The night was still and warm, with a thick mist, penetrated by dim moonlight. A low knock sounded on the gate which opened on the road; the shutter of one of the lower windows was opened, and a man peered out, asking:--
Astro came from the house and let her in; a girl clad in white, which the moonlight and the mist changed to a strange green. They parleyed together at the gate; then passed Giovanni without seeing him, where he sat in the deep shadow of the vine branches.
The girl seated herself on the low wall of the well. Her face was an odd one, immobile and placid, like the faces of old statues. She had a low forehead, straight black eyebrows, too small a chin, and eyes of transparent amber. But what chiefly struck Giovanni was her hair, so light, so soft, so crisp, as if possessed of life. Like the Medusa's aureole of serpents, its blackness framed her face, making its paleness paler, its lips more scarlet, its amber eyes more translucent.
'Then you too, Astro, have heard speak of Frate Angelo?' said the girl.
'Yes, Monna Cassandra. They say the Pope hath sent him to extirpate heresy and black magic. And I tell you, merely to hear what is told of the Fathers Inquisitors raises the hair of your skin! God keep us from their claws! Monna Cassandra, be discreet; and, above all, warn your aunt.'
'It matters not. Warn that Monna Sidonia with whom you live.'
'Then, blacksmith, you suppose us witches?'
'I suppose nothing. Messer Leonardo hath taught me there is no witchcraft; nor can be none, by the law of nature. Messer Leonardo knows everything and believes in nothing.'
'Believes in nothing? Not in the devil? Not in God?'
'And your flying-machine?' she said contemptuously; 'is it ready?'
'Ready? We are going to make it all over again!'
'Astro! Astro! You credit this nonsense? These machines are dust cast into the eyes. I wager Messer Leonardo has flown many a time ere now.'
'You think that is it? Nay, others have seen me fly. Perhaps you know not the tale?'
The smith scratched his head hesitatingly.
'But I forget,' she said mockingly; 'you are all learned folk here, who believe not in miracles, but in mechanics.'
'S'death! Those same mechanics are a weight on my neck. Did you but know----' He spread out his hands appealingly, and continued: 'Monna Cassandra; you know my faithfulness. Nor is there temptation to chatter, lest Frate Angelo play eavesdropper. Tell me, then, in all secrecy, tell me of your charity with all the particulars----'