The Cottage on the Cliff. 103

 

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 madea 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