Stooping, I sped silently across it until I had gained the flower-bed immediately below the window that had drawn me to it.

Crouching there--for did I stand upright my chin would be on a level with the sill--I paused to listen for some moments.

The only sound I caught was a rustle, as of paper.

Emboldened, I took a deep breath, and standing up I gazed straight into the chamber.
By the light of four tapers in heavy silver sconces, I beheld St.Auban seated at a table littered with parchments, over which he was intently poring.

His back was towards me, and his long black hair hung straight upon his shoulders.