They moved down the wide stairway, leaving the German soldiers where they would be rescued. Tony dashed off while the others, led by Arno, hurried out of the house and across the yard to the stables. Racing through the spacious barns they came to the kennels. By the time they had passed these Tony had caught up with them.
Pushing through a hidden gate in a hedge they came to a bridle path over which tall trees draped their branches.
"I say, a beautiful spot," Allison murmured.
"It has the smell of auld Ireland," O'Malley said wistfully.
"We are very fond of it," Tony said.
Arno was ahead, moving rapidly upward. They hurried along and caught up with him. From then on there was no talking; the trail wound upward steeply, covered by a canopy of trees. Reaching the top of the ridge they broke out into a forest. Arno led them to a spot where there was a narrow flight strip. Still they saw no planes.
Crossing the strip they entered a grove of tall trees and there stood three, trim ships. O'Malley yelped with joy. Stan looked at the craft critically. They were Nardi FN 500's, obsolete in speed and fire power, but trim and sturdy ships just the same. Arno smiled.
"We built this secret field so that we could slip in at night without the black-shirted Fascisti knowing where we had gone. We met often to plan the overthrow of Mussolini and his murderers."
"You landed here at night?" Allison asked in amazement.
"Certainly," Arno answered modestly.