Meantime the young woman continued to advance, counting the houses and windows. This was neither long nor difficult. There were but three hôtels in this part of the street; and only two windows looking toward the road, one of which was in a pavilion parallel to that which Aramis occupied, the other belonging to Aramis himself. “_Pardieu!_” said D’Artagnan to himself, to whose mind the niece of the theologian reverted, “_pardieu_, it would be droll if this belated dove should be in search of our friend’s house. But on my soul, it looks so. Ah, my dear Aramis, this time I shall find you out.” And D’Artagnan, making himself as small as he could, concealed himself in the darkest side of the street near a stone bench placed at the back of a niche. The young woman continued to advance; and in addition to the lightness of her step, which had betrayed her, she emitted a little cough which denoted a sweet voice. D’Artagnan believed this cough to be a signal. Nevertheless, whether the cough had been answered by a similar signal which had fixed the irresolution of the nocturnal seeker, or whether without this aid she saw that she had arrived at the end of her journey, she resolutely drew near to Aramis’s shutter, and tapped, at three equal intervals, with her bent finger. “This is all very fine, dear Aramis,” murmured D’Artagnan. “Ah, Monsieur Hypocrite, I understand how you study theology.” The three blows were scarcely struck, when the inside blind was opened and a light appeared through the panes of the outside shutter. “Ah, ah!” said the listener, “not through doors, but through windows! Ah, this visit was expected. We shall see the windows open, and the lady enter by escalade. Very pretty!” But to the great astonishment of D’Artagnan, the shutter remained closed. Still more, the light which had shone for an instant disappeared, and all was again in obscurity. D’Artagnan thought this could not last long, and continued to look with all his eyes and listen with all his ears. He was right; at the end of some seconds two sharp taps were heard inside. The young woman in the street replied by a single tap, and the shutter was opened a little way. It may be judged whether D’Artagnan looked or listened with avidity. Unfortunately the light had been removed into another chamber; but the eyes of the young man were accustomed to the night. Besides, the eyes of the Gascons have, as it is asserted, like those of cats, the faculty of seeing in the dark. D’Artagnan then saw that the young woman took from her pocket a white object, which she unfolded quickly, and which took the form of a handkerchief. She made her interlocutor observe the corner of this unfolded object. This immediately recalled to D’Artagnan’s mind the handkerchief which he had found at the feet of Mme. Bonacieux, which had reminded him of that which he had dragged from under the feet of Aramis. “What the devil could that handkerchief signify?”