At last, however, her toilet was completed, and she opened the door as gently as possible on her way to the Count. As the handle still remained in her hand, she heard, to her great horror, the voice of Miss Wewitz calling to her from her bed-room—for the schoolmistress, knowing that it was the day for the Frenchmen’s departure, and expecting that there would be a scene of some kind or other before she got them clear out of the house, had herself been awake since daylight; and having caught repeated sounds of glasses jingling, and other noises, proceeding from Miss Chutney’s room, had felt satisfied that all was not right, and had been sitting up in her bed for some little time, listening attentively to what was going on, when she was convinced she heard the door of that young lady’s bed-room opened.
Miss Chutney no sooner heard the voice, than she felt it was no time for her to hesitate; so, descending the stairs as rapidly as she could, she hurried to the Count, begging of him to hide her, for Miss Wewitz was following her.
The Count did not take long to tell the terrified girl how well he had arranged matters in the linen-room, and that she need be under no fear of detection if she would but do as he requested her; and then he explained that he intended her to take the place of the lay figure of his talented friend, Adolphe, and to have her removed immediately from the house in that character. All she had to do was, to keep every limb perfectly rigid, and not to move a muscle of her body on any account.
The schoolmistress, who now grew considerably alarmed for the safety of the wayward girl, hastily threw on her dressing-gown, and hurried as quickly as possible to the linen-room. To confess the truth, however, she had little hope of finding her in that place; and as she mounted the stairs, she panted with trepidation, lest she should discover that the young lady had sought protection from that wretch of a Frenchman.
It would be impossible to picture Miss Wewitz’s astonishment and joy at perceiving, on opening the linen-room door, the figure of the girl, bent down in the same attitude of penitence and shame as she had observed her in on the preceding day; she felt like a female Atlas, with the weight of the world suddenly taken off her shoulders. Then, noticing that the despised crust of dry bread was no longer there, (the fact was, M. Adolphe Sheek had eaten it that morning, with the view of keeping the wind off his stomach,) Miss Wewitz threw up her hands with delight, to think all was progressing so favourably, and again congratulated herself that, if the girl was only left to the workings of her better nature, she would have her at her feet before dinner-time.
With this consolatory reflection the schoolmistress closed the door, and having locked it securely, placed the key in her pocket, exclaiming to herself as she did so, “Thank goodness, my lady, you’re all safe!”
Miss Wewitz descended the stairs with a much lighter step than she had mounted them a few moments before, comforting herself with the reflection, that precisely the same change was taking place in Miss Chutney as had been wrought in her own nature, on the memorable occasion of her refusing to eat that delicious boiled rice-pudding.
On reaching her bed-room, however, she thought, as she overheard the Frenchmen on the move, that it would be advisable just to “pop down,” and assure herself that all was right; “for she could not rest easy,” she said, “until she had seen the last lock of their back hair.” Notwithstanding she felt satisfied she had got her parlour boarder safe under lock and key, there was no telling what tricks the creatures might be at—they were such a set!”
Accordingly, having adjusted her cap and patted down her front hair, she tripped down the stairs with one of her most amiable smiles on her countenance, and putting her head in at the door, said in her softest tone, and in a mixture of English and French, “I am ready to pay you votre argent, Monsieur le Comte, whenever you please.” (Miss Wewitz was to be numbered among the many ladies who understand the language perfectly, but cannot speak it.)
The Count and M. Adolphe had just finished “posing” Miss Chutney in the same attitude as the model, and had retired a few paces back to admire her, as she stood with her hands crossed on her bosom, and her head bent down, as if at her devotions, and were congratulating one another on the perfect resemblance the young lady bore to the “lay” sister, when the head of the schoolmistress was discovered peeping round the door.