And yet, had he but known it, that was very nearly what had happened. When Mattina, worn out with crying, had sunk down on the floor against the door, sobbing out every now and then, "My mother, my manitsa," she suddenly heard a very low muffled knocking which seemed to come from the other side of the room. At first she took no heed. It was someone, she supposed, in the next house; she had often heard people moving there. But it came again, a soft little knock repeated twice; then her name just whispered. "Mattina! Mattina! Are you there?" The voice was Kyra Polyxene's, she was quite sure, but from where did it come? She crossed the little room. The knock was quite clear now. "Mattina!" "But where are you, Kyra Polyxene?" "Now you will see; can you hear what I say?" "Yes, I hear you." "Move your mattress!" "What did you say?" "I dare not speak any louder; move your mattress away from the wall!" Mattina seized hold of the heavy straw mattress with both hands, and dragged it aside. "Have you done it?" "Yes." Then slowly, very slowly, a narrow door painted exactly the same color as the rest of the room, with no handle, no crack even to show its outline or to distinguish it from the surrounding wall, a door which Mattina had certainly never seen before, was pushed open from the other side and Kyra Polyxene's kind old face appeared in the opening. "Not a word!" she whispered, with a finger on her lips. "Not a word for your life! Come!" Mattina was very bewildered. "Where shall I come? How did you get in?" "Hush! Lest they hear us from below. Once this was all one big house, and when they made it two, they left this door. It was all painted over, and no one knew; but I remembered. Wait!" and she came right in. "Give me your coverlet! See I will hang it over the opening, so ... because now that I have opened the door, when it is light they will see that the paint has cracked. And before that lazy mistress of yours takes the coverlet down to shake it, many days will pass. Come! Why are you waiting?" "Kyra Polyxene," said Mattina, "they all tell lies! I never saw their money!" "And for that, will you stay here and let them take you and lock you in prison?" There was a loud knocking at the door below. Mattina clung desperately to Kyra Polyxene's skirts. "Do you hear?" "I hear," said the old woman grimly. "Come, I tell you! Come!" She pushed Mattina first through the half-open door and followed, closing it softly behind her and turning a rusty key on the other side. They were standing in a small dark room filled with cases and lighted by one candle. Kyra Polyxene took up the candle. Then she clasped Mattina's hand tightly in hers, and together, treading very softly, they crossed a long narrow passage outside the room, passed through a glass door, went down a flight of stone steps into a cellar where piles of wood were stacked, and then went up three or four steps again to a little back door that opened on the pavement.