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"How can I get you back?" she asked. "The convent is so far away."
The soldier shook his head. "You can't. We are caught here between the two fires, it would be certain death to move. What made you come back?"
"To find you," Lucia replied. "I could not come sooner, there was so much to do. I even forgot you, but when I remembered, I ran all the way and now I am helpless."
"Don't give up," the Italian replied. "You must have courage for both of us, for I am useless. My leg has been badly injured by a piece of sh.e.l.l, and I cannot even crawl."
"Then there is nothing to do but wait for the light," Lucia was trembling all over. "Oh, what a long day it has been!"
"But the dawn will come soon," the soldier tried to cheer her, "and then perhaps the stretcher-bearers will find us. If they do not--"
"If they do not, I will find a way to take you to the convent," Lucia replied with sudden spirit, and with the same determination that had resulted in her blowing up the bridge, she added to herself:
"He shall not die!"
CHAPTER X
GARIBALDI, STRETCHER-BEARER
The long night set in, and the soldier, wearied from his long wait, dropped to sleep in spite of the noise. Lucia's tired little body rested, but her eyes never relaxed their watch in the darkness.
The fire kept up steadily, and at irregular intervals a star-sh.e.l.l would illuminate the high mountains. Towards midnight there was an extra loud explosion, and once more the terrifying flames seemed to encircle Cellino.
Lucia wondered dully what had been struck. The church was gone, and she supposed this was the town hall. It looked too near, as far as she could judge, for the convent.
Her ears were becoming accustomed to the sound, and she thought the fire from both sides was being concentrated towards the south. The sh.e.l.ls near them lessened, and at last stopped. Before dawn the Italian stirred, and called out in his sleep.
Lucia spoke to him, but he did not answer; he was so exhausted that he was soon unconscious again.
Lucia watched the east, and tried to imagine Beppi safe and sound in a town far away from this terrible din, but she could be sure of nothing.
She remembered Roderigo's words, 'She is safe,' and knew that he must have meant Maria. Surely Beppi and Nana were with her and Aunt Rudini; it could not be otherwise.
With a guilty start she remembered Garibaldi. Where was she, and what had become of her in all the terrors of yesterday? Lucia could not remember having noticed her after she left the footbridge. Was she safe in the mountains, or lying dead in a sh.e.l.l hole?
"My Garibaldi, poor little one, she would not understand, and she will think I neglected her."
Tears of pity and weariness stung Lucia's cheeks. The thought of her little goat, suffering and neglected, seemed to be more than she could bear. She buried her head in her arm and cried softly. The tears were a relief to her, and long after she had stopped sobbing they trickled down her cheeks.
She fell into a light doze now that her watch was so nearly ended, and did not waken until the east was streaked with gray. She might not have awakened then, had it not been for a cold, wet nose burrowing in her neck, and a plaintive, "Naa, Naa!"
She sat up suddenly to discover Garibaldi, covered with mud from her ears to her tail, looking very woe-begone, standing beside her.
Regardless of the mud Lucia threw her arms around her pet, and for once in her life the little goat seemed to return her caress.
When Lucia lifted her head there was a smile on her lips, and the old light of determination shone in her eyes. She got to her knees slowly and looked about her. The guns were booming back and forth, but their position seemed to be changed. The Austrian guns still sounded from across the river, but their range was much farther south.
Lucia looked towards the west. None of the guns that were there the night before could be heard. With a throb of joy she realized that the booming now came from the town.
"Had the Italians crept up and into Cellino during the night?" The very idea was so exciting that she could not rest until she made sure.
She stood up and walked over to the road. The gate had an odd appearance in the half light. She walked up the hill a little way, rubbing her eyes as she went. Something behind the wall seemed to appear suddenly, emit a puff of smoke, and then disappear.
Lucia had never seen a big gun in her life, and she did not know that one was hidden securely in the cover of the wall near the ruins of the church, for so quietly had the great monster arrived, and so stealthily had the soldiers worked, that its sudden appearance seemed almost a miracle.
Lucia put it down as one, and offered her prayer of thankfulness from the middle of the muddy road. Then the work at hand took the place of her surprise, and she ran back to her wounded soldier and roused him gently. He opened his eyes; they were bright with fever, and he tossed restlessly.
Lucia tried to move him, but could not. He was very big, and she could not pull him as she had the slender Roderigo.
As she stopped to consider, the walls of Cellino suddenly seemed to let loose a fury of smoke and flame. Nothing that had happened during the day before equalled it. The big guns boomed and the smaller ones sent out sharp, cracking noises that were even more terrifying.
Poor Lucia dropped to her face again, and Garibaldi cowered beside her.
Nothing seemed to happen. The sh.e.l.ls did not fall near them as she had expected, and after her first fright had pa.s.sed, she got to her feet again.
Tugging at the soldier was useless, and an idea was forming in her mind. She ran as fast as she could up the hill to the cottage, calling Garibaldi to follow.
At the shed she stopped and looked at the door. It was light, and she soon tore it away from its support. Then she went into the cottage and came back with a rope. She made a loop and put it over the goat's head. Then with two long pieces she contrived a harness and hitched the door to it. One end dragged on the ground, and the other was about a foot above it. The rope was crossed on the goat's back and tied firmly to the long ends of the door that did duty as shafts. Garibaldi was too disheartened to protest, and Lucia had little trouble in leading her down the hill.
The soldier was delirious when she reached him, but he was so weak that it was an easy matter to roll him on to the improvised stretcher.
Lucia took hold of one shaft, and with Garibaldi pulling too, they started off.
It was a long and weary climb, but at last they reached the cottage.
The terrible jolting had been agony for the soldier. He regained consciousness on the way, and from time to time a groan escaped him.
But when he was in the house he did his best to smile, and crawled onto the mattress that Lucia had pulled to the floor.
She made haste to take off his knapsack, and under his direction she dressed the ugly wound in his thigh. Her fingers, only used to rough work, moved clumsily, but she managed to make him a little more comfortable. He smiled up at her bravely.
"Poor little one, you are tired. Go and eat," he whispered. And Lucia, after she saw his head sink back on the pillow, found a stale loaf of black bread and began to munch it slowly.
The soldier pointed to his knapsack and told her to eat whatever she found in it.
"There should be some of my emergency rations left," he said faintly.
Lucia found some dried beef and offered it to him, but he shook his head and asked for a drink of water. She gave it to him, but his eyes closed and his head fell back as he drank. She ate all the beef and a cake of chocolate that she found; and then went to the door to look out.
Cellino was enveloped in smoke and she could not see the gate. The guns were barking, and little spurts of white smoke seemed to punctuate each separate fire. Away to the east the enemy's guns were still booming.
Lucia realized that a hard battle was under way, and that it would be useless to try to get help until there was a lull. She returned to the room and looked down at the soldier. He was moaning softly, and his eyes looked up at her beseechingly.
CHAPTER XI
THE AMERICAN