"You look so proper," he said, "that I am sure nobody will think of trying the door while you sit there. Will you remain till I come back?"
"Like Saint Peter in his chair," I whispered, for I wanted to get rid of him.
"Well, then, I must risk whatever may happen, and leave you here." So he went away. Now I ask you if this was not a ridiculous position. But I had discovered, in the course of my fortnight's wanderings, that I was really something of a philosopher in practice, and I am proud to say that on this occasion I smoked in absolute indifference to the absurdity of the thing. People came and stood at a distance in the passage, and eyed me curiously. But they knew I belonged to the party of foreigners, and doubtless they supposed it was the custom of my country to guard doors in that way.
An hour passed, and I heard Hedwig stirring in the room. After a time she came close to the door and put her hand on the lock, so that it began to rattle, but she hesitated, and went away again. I once more heard her moving about. Then I heard her open the window, and at last she came boldly and opened the door, which turned inward. I sat like a rock, not knowing whether Nino would like me to turn round and look.
"Signor Grandi!" she cried at last in laughing tones.
"Yes, signorina!" I replied, respectfully, without moving. She hesitated.
"What are you doing in that strange position?" she asked.
"I am mounting guard," I answered. "I promised Nino that I would sit here till he came back." She fairly laughed now, and it was the most airy, silvery laugh in the world.
"I am not sure that Nino would let me," said I. "I promised not to move, and I will keep my promise."
"Will you let me out?" she asked, struggling with her merriment.
"By no means," I answered; "anymore than I would let anybody in."
"Then we must make the best of it," said she. "But I will bring a chair and sit down, while you tell me the news."
"Will you assume all responsibility toward Nino, signorina, if I turn so that I can see you?" I asked, as she sat down.
"I will say that I positively ordered you to do so," she answered, gaily. "Now look, and tell me where Signor Cardegna is gone."
I looked indeed, and it was long before I looked away. The rest, the freedom, and the happiness had done their work quickly, in spite of all the dreadful anxiety and fatigue. The fresh, transparent colour was in her cheeks, and her blue eyes were clear and bright. The statue had been through the fire, and was made a living thing, beautiful, and breathing, and real.