“Oh!” A long pause, during which I collapsed upon my straw seat, and swallowed macaroni thoughtfully. As the result of my meditations, “Valeria, _carissima_!” “Hush! Yes.” “Can’t you get me out of this infernal den?” “Perhaps, if they all three sleep in the kitchen; at present one is awake. Watch for my signal, and if they all three sleep I will manage to slip the bolt. Then you must give me time to get back into bed, and when you hear me snore you may make the attempt. They are all three sleeping on the floor, so be very careful where you tread; I will also leave the front door a little open, so that you can slip through without noise.” “Dearest Valeria!” “Hush! Yes.” “Hand me that cane--it is my fishing-rod, you know--through this hole; you can leave the sketch-book and paint-box under the tree that the donkey fell against; I will call for them some day soon. And, Valeria, don’t you think we could make our lips meet through this beastly hole?” “Impossible. There’s my hand; heavens! Croppo would murder me if he knew. Now keep quiet till I give the signal. Oh, do let go my hand!” “Remember, Valeria, _bellissima, carissima_, whatever happens, that I love you.” But I don’t think she heard this, and I went and sat on the onions, because I could see the hole better and the smell of them kept me awake. It was at least two hours after this that the faint light appeared at the hole in the wall and a hand was pushed through. I rushed at the finger-tips. “Here’s your fishing-rod,” she said, when I had released them and she had passed me my air-gun. “Now be very careful how you tread. There is one asleep across the door, but you can open it about two feet. Then step over him; then make for a gleam of moonlight that comes through the crack of the front door, open it very gently, and slip out. _Addio, caro Inglese_; mind you wait till you hear me snoring.” Then she lingered, and I heard a sigh. “What is it, sweet Valeria?” and I covered her hand with kisses. “I wish Croppo had blue eyes like you.”