ans, once green, could hardly be distinguished from the grey
wood-work of the walls. All round the house ran an open gallery or
verandah, raised some three or four feet from the ground. Upon this
gallery the windows and doors opened, and a paling or guard-rail
encompassed the whole. Opposite the doors, a stairway of half-a-dozen
steps led up; but at all other parts the space underneath was open in
front, so that, by stooping a little, one might get under the floor of
the gallery.

By crawling close up in front of the verandah, and looking through the
rails, we should be able to command a full view of all the windows in
the house;--and in case of alarm, we could conceal ourselves in the dark
cavity underneath. We should be safe there, unless scented by the dogs.

Our plan was matured in whispers. It was not much of a plan. We were
to advance to the edge of the verandah, peep through the windows until
we could discover the apartment of Aurore; then do our best to
communicate with her, and get her out. Our success depended greatly
upon accident or good fortune.

Before we could make a move forward, fortune seemed as though she was
going to favour us. In one of the windows, directly before our face, a
figure appeared. A glance told us it was the Quadroon!

The window, as before stated, reached down to the floor of the verandah;
and as the figure appeared behind the glass, we could see it from head
to foot. The Madras kerchief on the head, the gracefully undulating
figure, outlined upon the background of the lighted room, left no doubt
upon our minds as to who it was.

"'Tis Aurore!" whispered my companion.

How could _he_ tell? Did he know her? All! I remembered--he had seen
her that morning in the Rotundo.

"It is she!" I replied, my beating heart scarce allowing me to make
utterance.

The window was curtained, but she had raised the curtain in one hand,
and was looking out. There was that in her attitude that betokened
earnestness. She appeared as if trying to penetrate the gloom. Even in
the distance I could perceive this, and my heart bounded with joy. She
had understood my note. She was looking for me!

D'Hauteville thought so as well. Our prospects were brightening. If
she guessed our design, our task would be easier.

She remained but a few moments by the window. She turned away and the
curtain dropped into its place; but before it had screened the view, the
dark shadow of a man fell