"We have a saying in Sicily that 'each year has its sunshineand rain，'which means its sorrow and its joy，"she answered."Perhaps I sometimes think more of the tears than of the laughter，although I know that is wrong.Not always shall I be a mountaineer，and then the soft dresses of the young girls shall be my portion.Will I like them better？I do not know.But I must go now，instead of chattering here.Farewell，signorini，until to—morrow.""Will you not remain with us？""Oh，no；although you are kind.I am expected home.But to—morrow I will come for the money.You will be silent？""Surely，Tato."The child smiled upon them pleasantly.It was a relief to deal with two tender girls instead of cold and resentful men，such as she had sometimes met.At the door she blew a kiss to them，and darted away.
In the courtyard Frascatti saw her gliding out and discreetly turned his head the other way.
Tato took the old road，circling around the theatre andthrough the narrow，winding streets of the lower town to the Catania Gate.She looked back one or twice，but no one noticed her.If any of the villagers saw her approaching they slipped out of her path.
Once on the highway，however，Tato became lost inreflection.Her mission being successfully accomplished，it required no further thought；but the sweet young Americangirls had made a strong impression upon the lonely Sicilian maid，and she dreamed of their pretty gowns and ribbons，their fresh and comelya faces，and the gentleness of their demeanor.
Tato was not gentle.She was wild and free and boyish，and had no pretty gowns whatever.But what then ？She must help her father to get his fortune，and then he had promised her that some day they would go to Paris or Cairo and live in the world，and be brigands no longer.
She would like that，she thought，as she clambered upthe steep paths；and perhaps she would meet these American girls again，or others like them，and make them her friends.She had never known a girl friend，as yet.
These ambitions would yesterday have seemed far in the dim future；but now that her stern old grandmother was gone it was possible her father would soon ful?ll his promises.While the Duchessa lived she ruled them all，and she was a brigand to the backboneb.Now her father's will prevailed，and he could refuse his child nothing.
Kenneth was not an expert detective，but he had managedto keep Tato in sight without being suspected by her.He had concealed himself near the Catania Gate，through which he knew she must pass，and by good luck she had never looked around once，so intent were her musingsc.
When she came to the end of the path and leaned against the rock to sing the broken refraina which was the "open sesameb"to the valley，the boy was hidden snug behind a boulder where he could watch her every movement.
Then the rock opened；Tato passed in，and the openingclosed behind her.
Kenneth found a foothold and climbed up the wall of rock，higher and higher，until at last he crept upon a high ridge and looked over.
The hidden valley lay spread before him in all its beauty，but the precipice at his feet formed a sheer drop of a hundred feet or more，and he drew back with a shudder.
Then he took courage to look again，and observed the house，on the porch of which stood Tato engaged in earnest conversation with a tall，dark Sicilian.Uncle John was nowhere to be seen，but the boy understood that he was there，nevertheless，and realized that his prison was so secure that escape was impossible.
A n d n o w h e c l i m b e d d o w n a g a i n ，a m u c h m o r e dif?cult feat than getting up.But although he was forced to risk his life several times，he was agile and clear—headed，and ?nally dropped to the path that led to the secret door of the passage.
His next thought was to mark the exact location of the place，so that he could ?nd it again；and as he returned slowlyalong the paths through the rocky ?ssures he took mental note of every curve and communication，and believed he could now ?nd his way to the retreat of the brigands at any time he chose.