The child slept sweetly through it all.
Rose darted into Josephine's room, took the key from the inside to the outside, locked the door, put the key in her pocket, and ran down to her mother's room; her knees trembled under her as she went.
Meantime, Jacintha, sleeping tranquilly, suddenly felt her throat griped, and heard a loud voice ring in her ear; then she was lifted, and wrenched, and dropped.

She found herself lying clear of the steps in the moonlight; her head was where her feet had been, and her candle out.
She uttered shriek upon shriek, and was too frightened to get up.

She thought it was supernatural; some old De Beaurepaire had served her thus for sleeping on her post.

A struggle took place between her fidelity and her superstitious fears.

Fidelity conquered.