From the height of those branches one might certainly see what was passing in Mademoiselle Stangerson's chamber.

Evidently that was what Rouletabille thought, for, enjoining me to remain hidden, he clasped the trunk with his vigorous arms and climbed up.

I soon lost sight of him amid the branches, and then followed a deep silence.

In front of me, the open window remained lighted, and I saw no shadow move across it.

I listened, and presently from above me these words reached my ears: "After you!" "After you, pray!" Somebody was overhead, speaking,--exchanging courtesies.