"I shall keep watch of him.

It is possible he's plotting something against our interests." The post master had already disappeared into the garden, intending to watch there and wait his chance to be admitted to the house as an assistant.

He now returned to it very softly, his boots making no noise, for there were carpets on the stairs and corridors.

He was able to reach the door of his uncle's room without being heard.

The abbe and the doctor had left the house; La Bougival was making the poultices.
"Are we quite alone ?" said the old man to his godchild.
Ursula stood on tiptoe and looked into the courtyard.
"Yes," she said; "the abbe has just closed the gate after him." "My darling child," said the dying man, "my hours, my minutes even, are counted.