To reach the point desired, they had, of course, to cross the road,
which was tolerably wide, and then skirt a kind of paddock.

There were few stars to be seen, and the moon--a new one, and perhaps
not yet fully acquainted with her business--was partly hidden behind
some clouds, though not so entirely obscured but that the forms of the
three brigands cast deep shadows on the ground.

But surely that is not a shadow, which as they move, moves also from an
adjoining doorway, and follows them.

Like them, it is wrapped in a cloak; like them, it stalks along slowly
and erect, but unlike them, it makes no noise.

Its footfall is silent as that of the panther lurking in the jungle.

Its very breath, if it has any, seems hushed.

The three villains go slowly, and the shadow, or substance, whatever it
may be, keeps the same pace, till they reach the open field at the back
of the hotel.

Hunston, Toro, and the Greek then stand side by side looking towards
the hotel, but the shadow sinks down out of sight by the side of the
fence.

Another hasty look round, and then the Greek brigand pronounced that
they were safe.

"No fear of being interrupted here."