after that she had heard Gus run off under the window, the dog barking
joyfully and going, too. How we lay and trembled! By and by I got out of
bed, and peeped through the Venetians, in spite of Lottie's entreaties.

"Oh, Sissy, please don't! Susette will be so angry! Please, Sissy, come
back!"

I protested that Susette was not _my_ nurse, yet I knew she could scold
in such a bewildering torrent of French as did sometimes frighten me;
and as I could see nothing but the calm, beautiful starlit sky over the
sleeping sea, I dropped the blind, and sprang back into bed. It made a
noise as I dropped it, and for some time the fear of being heard, and
the anxiety to appear asleep if any one came, made us forget our alarm
about Harry. In fact, I think we were getting sleepy again--I was, at
least--but we started up at the sound of the hall-door softly opened,
and then men's footsteps on the stairs. There was a low moan as the
steps passed our door. Oh, how breathlessly we waited! Once, even, I had
the door ajar, and was peeping out, when a hurried hand outside suddenly
shut it again, making me start back. By and by there was a sound of
footsteps going downstairs, and in a moment Lottie and I were both in
the passage entreating Jane to tell us what had happened.

"Master Harry has been tumbled over the pony's head, Miss Lottie," she
said, "and he's been lying in a ditch nobody knows how long; but the
dog's saved his life--him and Gus together--and the doctor hopes he
won't be very bad, no bones being broken, only bruises and knocks of the
head. He don't quite know himself, you see, yet, poor young gentleman!
and we have to keep him quiet, so you must go and be as still as mice.
The doctor'll be here in the morning, and the missis, too, may be!"