“I might have known!” Tacita exclaimed joyously, embracing her. “I did almost know. It is all that was needed to make me perfectly happy! And now, let us start for home. At last I can call it home! ‘By the side of a rock,’ my mother said.”
They went down stairs. There was no one visible, and the door was still barred. Elena led her companion into the niche under the stair, and tapped on the stone wall. Immediately, as though her light touch had pushed it, a part of the wall receded a few inches, was lifted a few inches, and swung slowly backward. It was a door of small stones set in a plank frame, the irregular edges fitting perfectly into the masonry about them. A narrow, dim passage was visible, leading downwards.
They descended, hand in hand, passing by a man who stood there in the shadow; and the door was closed and barred behind them. It was hung on iron hooks that were round at the top, and square below. When the bars were removed, and the door freed from the wall, a pulley lifted it from the square to the round iron on which it swung.
The incline led to a small cave, scarcely larger than the room above. It was all open to the west, and an abyss separated it from a precipice, leaving only a narrow shelf of rock outside the cave’s mouth. Beside this shelf, no other egress was visible.
The place showed signs of having been recently used as a stable. For the rest, it might not have been visited for years. There was an old chest with rusty hinges, an old box full of pine-needles, and some discolored blocks of wood that might have served as seats.
“It is Arone, my brother!” said Elena, when the man came down to them after fastening the door.
He had a sunny face, and he resembled his sister so closely that an introduction was scarcely necessary. His dress set off a fine manly figure. It was a gray cloth tunic reaching to the knees, and girded with a dark blue fringed sash. Long gray stockings and a gray turban-shaped cap with a blue band completed his costume. The band of the cap was closed over the left ear with a small silver hand.
The shelf of rock proved to be their path. Holding by a rope fixed in iron hooks, they followed its curve to a small platform of rock. From this, a bridge of two planks, over which the rope was continued, crossed the chasm to a second shelf. This was more dangerous than the first; for it was wet, and the sheer rock it followed was dripping. Beyond, in a wider path, were their guides of the day before, and the donkeys.
Holding the rope, Tacita passed the wet rock, not daring to look downward, and was received by her companions with a “Brava!”
The worst was over. She sat down to get her breath, and Arone returned to remove the ropes and plank.