The figure, in short, was standing between them and the sun, and was contemplating the chateau, not the tree.
The shadow took off its hat to Josephine, in the tree.

Then would she have screamed if she had not bitten her white hand instead, and made a red mark thereon.
It wiped its brow with a handkerchief; it had walked fast, poor thing! The next moment it was away.
They looked at one another and panted.

They scarcely dared do it before.
Then Rose, with one hand on her heaving bosom, shook her little white fist viciously at where the figure must be, and perhaps a comical desire of vengeance stimulated her curiosity.

She now glided through the fissure like a cautious panther from her den; and noiseless and supple as a serpent began to wind slowly round the tree.

She soon came to a great protuberance in the tree, and twining and peering round it with diamond eye, she saw a very young, very handsome gentleman, stealing on tiptoe to the nearest flower-bed.