Presently the child came to a halt because the way ended and they could proceed no farther.

He leaned against the rock and in a high-pitched, sweet voice sang part of a Sicilian ditty, neither starting the verse nor ending it, but merely trilling out a fragment.
Uncle John regarded him wonderingly; and then, with a sudden suspicion, he demanded: "You are not playing me false, Tato ?" "I, signore ?" smiling frankly into the man's eyes; "you need never fear Tato, signore.

To be your friend, and Signor Ferralti's friend, makes me very proud." The rock he leaned against fell inward, noiselessly, and disclosed a passage.

It was short, for there was light at the other end.
The strange child darted in at once.
"This way, signore.

He is here!" Uncle John drew back.