Page:Stories by Foreign Authors (French II).djvu/68

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to climb down. Her skirts were much in her way. Suddenly a stone broke loose from the masonry, and fell into the Morelle with a resounding splash. She stopped, chilled with a shudder. But she saw that the waterfall, with its continuous roar, drowned out from afar any noise she might make, and she climbed down more boldly, feeling for the ivy with her foot, making sure of the rungs of the ladder. When she had got on a level with the room that was used as Dominique's prison, she stopped. An unforeseen difficulty nearly made her lose all her courage; the window of the room below was not cut regularly under the window of her chamber; it was some way from the ladder, and, when she stretched out her hand, she felt only the wall. Would she have to climb up again, without carrying her plan through to the end? Her arms were getting tired, the murmur of the Morelle beneath her began to make her dizzy. Then she tore off little bits of mortar from the wall, and threw them against Dominique's window. He did not hear, perhaps he was asleep. She broke off some more pieces from the wall, barking her fingers. And her strength was giving out, she felt herself falling backwards, when Dominique, at last, softly opened his window.

——"It's I," she whispered. "Take me quick, I'm falling."