"I know it because Donna Bianca has described it to me," returned Silvio, who did not at the moment understand what it might be that had so suddenly aroused the princess's indignation. "The picture moves into the wall, and behind it is the secret entrance. Concetta Fontana, when she went to warn Donna Bianca that the peasants were forcing their way into the castle, found her locked in her room—"
"Sciocchezze!" exclaimed Princess Montefiano. "Why should she be locked in her room?"
"For a very simple reason. The Abbé Roux did not want Donna Bianca to know what was going on. She had retired to her room after breakfast, and when the disturbances began, he turned the key of the door opening into your apartment."
"It is true," said the princess, as if to herself. "The child complained of a headache, and had gone to her room. I thought she was there, until, to my astonishment, I heard that she was speaking to the peasants."
"Concetta Fontana took her down the concealed passage," said Silvio, "and it is fortunate she did so, princess, or there would certainly have been bloodshed at Montefiano to-day."
"Holy Virgin! how many more things am I to hear?" exclaimed Princess Montefiano. "As to this mysterious passage," she continued, "why have I never been told of its existence? Even now I will not believe it until I see it. Concetta Fontana must be romancing. At any rate, I will investigate the matter for myself. And so it was by means of this unknown passage that you communicated—by letter, of course—with my step-daughter?"
"Yes," replied Silvio, simply. "I sent a letter to Don Agostino, begging him to get it conveyed to Donna Bianca if he possibly could do so. The agent—Fontana—told him of the passage, and how Donna Bianca's room could be entered at any time by a person knowing the secret communication. Concetta delivered the letter, and another subsequent one, and took Donna Bianca's replies to Don Agostino. He posted them to me. You see, Signora Principessa," added Silvio, "that I have answered your questions frankly. And you will not blame Concetta, for she only did as she was told."
Princess Montefiano looked at him with something like a smile on her face. Possibly the straightforward manner in which Silvio had spoken to her throughout their conversation had impressed her more favorably than she was fully aware of.
"I do not understand why Monsignor Lelli—Don Agostino, as you call him—should have taken upon himself to help you so untiringly," she observed, presently. "In your case I conclude his friendship with your father to have been the motive. But he seems to be equally concerned for my step-daughter's happiness. To be sure he tells me that he knew her mother, many years ago. He seemed to be under a strange emotion when he spoke of her, and hinted at some kind of responsibility he felt towards my step-daughter."
"Monsignor Lelli considers that he has a certain responsibility towards Donna Bianca," said Silvio; and then he paused.