The Mesmerist's Victim by Alexandre Dumas

From his garret, Gilbert was watching, or rather devouring Andrea's room. It would be hard to tell whether his eyes now gazed with love or hatred. But the curtains were drawn and he could see nothing in that quarter; he turned to another.

Here he espied the plume of Corporal Beausire, as the soldier to beguile his waiting, whistled a tune. It was not till ten minutes had elapsed that Nicole appeared. She made her lover a sign which he understood, for he nodded and went towards a walk in a cutting leading to the Little Trianon.