Groves of oranges and of olive, lemon and almond trees
occupied much of the vale, and on a higher point at the right, its back
to the wall of rock that towered behind it, stood a substantial yet
picturesque mansion of stone, with several outbuildings scattered on
either side.
The valley seemed, indeed, a toy kingdom sequestered from the great
outside world, yet so rich and productive within itself that it was
independent of all else.
Uncle John gazed with amazement. Who could have guessed this delightful
spot was hidden safe within the heart of the bleak, bare mountain
surrounding it? But suddenly he bethought himself.
"What place is this, Tato?" he asked; "and where is our friend
Ferralti, who needs me?"
There was no reply.
He turned around to find the boy had disappeared. Moreover, the passage
had disappeared. Only a wall of rock was behind him, and although his
eyes anxiously searched the rifts and cracks of its rough surface, no
indication of the opening through which he had passed could be
discovered.
CHAPTER XVII
THE HIDDEN VALLEY
Uncle John's first inspiration was to sit down upon a stone to think. He
drew out his pipe and lighted it, to assist his meditations.
These were none too pleasant. That he had been cleverly entrapped, and
that by a child scarcely in its teens, was too evident to need
reflection.
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