"The other end!" echoed his daughter. "Then you got through?" Vistarnini rubbed his damaged hands together with satisfaction. "Aye," he said with a smile, "after tearing my clothes, fighting briers, stepping on toads, stifling with dust, and pitching on my face in the dark, I----" "Fell into a pond!" laughed Graziosa. "Got to the other end," cried the little painter. "Got to the other end!" Graziosa disappeared from the window, and came running into the courtyard, a slender figure in scarlet. "Got to the other end," repeated Vistarnini breathlessly. "A noble underground passage, Graziosa, that is what we have discovered, large enough to admit an army if need were, and with a concealed opening, leading out through a cave to the midst of----" "A pond," suggested Graziosa with a glance at his garments. "A wood--the pond was a mere accessory; a wood, some two miles beyond the town." "Then since this end is reached from our house, we are the only ones who can gain access to it?" said Graziosa. "We are," returned the painter proudly. "And, Graziosa, we will remain so." "Thou mean'st thou wilt tell no one?" asked his daughter. "No; it will be very useful. I hate to be forever passing the gate, giving accounts of myself to every saucy soldier. In time of need, should there be a war, then perchance we can speak of it." "I think we should speak of it now," said Graziosa thoughtfully. "I think we should tell the Duke." "Tell the weathercock!" said Vistarnini. "I tell thee it will be useful; the tolls nearly ruin me--and now I can bring everything I buy outside in through the secret passage." "'Tis scarce honest, father." Agnolo laughed. "I discovered it," he said. "No one knew of it, and the Duke can well spare my tolls." "Meanwhile change thy dress, father," laughed Graziosa, "and thou always dost as thou thinkest. I have no more to say." Then, as Vistarnini moved toward the house, his daughter called after him softly: "I may tell Ambrogio, father?" "Thou may'st do no such thing," returned Agnolo. "His conscience would prick him--he is overgrave and honest----" "He is not," said Graziosa indignantly. "I mean--he would not tell--I am sure he will not tell!" "And so am I--for he will never know," said Agnolo with a smile. "Now thy promise, Graziosa, that thou tellest no one, not even thy precious Ambrogio--and the first thing I smuggle through shall be a new silk gown for thee!" Graziosa laughed, and seated herself on the edge of the basin. "I promise," she called. "But as for the gown, thou couldst have brought me that in any case!" Vistarnini turned into the house, and silence again fell on the sunny courtyard. Graziosa looked musingly at the gate, then down at her bare arm and sighed. Two pet doves whirled down from the chestnuts and strutted across the courtyard, with a show of white tails.