Lucia Rudini Part 14

"Guess so."

Lucia felt the strong arms lift her, as if she weighed no more than a feather. He carried her down the ward and up a flight of stairs.

Sister Francesca was waiting for them at the door of the little room.

It had been one of the sister's cells. With her help Lucia was soon in a coa.r.s.e white nightgown and tucked in between clean sheets.

The Doctor came in to see her a little later.

"How is my soldier of the pennies?" she asked, and then as she realized he would not understand she added, "the one I brought up the hill."

"Oh, Captain Riccardi, he's still very ill, but he is going to pull through all right."

Lucia smiled.

"Oh, I am glad," she said. "I was so afraid, he looked so queer."

"Well, don't worry any more," the Doctor replied, "and now what do you want?"

Lucia sighed contentedly.

"Something to eat, if you please," she said shyly, "I am very hungry."

CHAPTER XIII

AN INTERRUPTED DREAM

A week pa.s.sed, a week of lazy luxury between cool linen sheets for Lucia, and she enjoyed her rest to its fullest extent. Every one in the convent, which was now a hospital, and running smoothly with capable American nurses, made a great fuss over her, and she had so much care that sometimes she was just the least bit bored. When the week was over, and she was feeling herself again, she grew restless and clamored to get up. Even the sheets, and the delicious things she had to eat, could not keep her contented. At last the Doctor said she might go out for a few hours into the suns.h.i.+ne, and the whole hospital hummed with the news.

Maria, in a white ap.r.o.n and cap, helped her dress, and went with her down the stone steps and out into the convent garden.

The first thing that met her eye was Garibaldi, clean and lazy, lying contentedly in the sun. She came over and seemed delighted to see her mistress once more.

"But you are so clean, my pet!" Lucia exclaimed. "And your coat looks as if it had been brushed," she added, wonderingly.

Maria laughed.

"It was. The big American, Senor Lathrop, makes so much fuss over her, you would think she was a fine horse."

"What about Senor Lathrop?" a laughing voice demanded. "Oh, drat this language, I keep forgetting." He stopped and then said very slowly in Italian: "Good morning, how are you this morning?"

"Oh, I am very well, and you," Lucia replied, "you have been very good to take such care of Garibaldi."

"Garibaldi? I don't understand," Lathrop replied.

Lucia pointed to the goat and said slowly. "That is her name."

"Name! The goat's name Garibaldi!" Lathrop exclaimed, and added in English, "Well I'll be darned!"

"Not just Garibaldi," Lucia corrected him. "Her name is 'The Ill.u.s.trious and Gentile Senora Guiseppe Garibaldi,' but we call her Garibaldi for short."

Lathrop understood enough of her reply to catch the name. He threw back his head and laughed uproariously.

"All that for a goat! No wonder she was a good sport with a name like that to live up to!"

He stood for a long time looking at the poor, s.h.a.ggy animal before him, then he laughed again and went into the convent.

"He is a funny man," Lucia said wonderingly. "Why should he laugh because of Garibaldi's name?"

"Oh, he meant no disrespect," Maria reasoned. "Americans all laugh at everything. The nurses are the same, they are always laughing. If anything goes wrong and I want to stamp my foot, they laugh."

Lucia was somewhat mollified. "What is the news?" she demanded, "I have been up there in my little room for so long, no one would tell me anything. Sister Francesca would smile and say, 'Everything is for the best, dear child,' when I asked for news of the front, and I was ashamed to ask again, but you tell me."

"Oh, there is nothing but good news," Maria replied. "We are gaining everywhere. The night after the battle, some of our soldiers built a bridge over the river and crossed, and when the Austrians rallied for a counter-charge they were ready for them and took them by surprise."

Maria paused, and her eyes filled with tears. "And only think, Lucia, if you had not destroyed the bridge and warned the Captain of the beggar man, we might have been taken by surprise, and Cellino would be an Austrian village. Oh, I tell you the ward rings with your praise.

The men talk of nothing else."

"Nonsense, I did not do it alone. How about your Roderigo? He is the one who deserves the praise. But tell me, how is my soldier of the pennies? I am never sure that the Doctor tells me truly how he is."

"Why do you call him 'your soldier of the pennies'?" Maria asked. "His name is Captain Riccardi, and he is very brave. Every one knows about him, and some of the boys say he is the bravest man in the Italian army."

"Perhaps he is," Lucia laughed, "but he is my soldier of the pennies, just the same, that's the name I love him by."

"But I don't understand," Maria protested, "did you know him before?"

"Yes and no," Lucia teased. "I did not know his name, or what he looked like, but I knew there was a soldier of the pennies somewhere."

"But tell me," Maria begged. "I am so curious."

Lucia laughed. "Very well, it is a queer thing. Listen. Do you remember how for a few days about a week before this battle, I only brought two pails of milk to your stall in the morning?"

Maria nodded.

"Well, the rest of the milk went to Captain Riccardi, but I did not know it. You see, one day Garibaldi ran away and went far up into the hills. I think the guns frightened her, and of course I went after her. I found her on a little plateau quite far up, and because I was tired I sat down to rest, keeping tight hold of her, you may be sure.

I was dreaming and thinking, and oh, a long way off, when suddenly I heard a voice above me. I looked up; my, but I was frightened, I can tell you, but I could see no one. The voice said: 'Little goat herder, will you give me a drink of milk?'"

Lucia stopped.

"Go on!" Maria exclaimed. "What did you do?"

"I am ashamed to say," Lucia replied, "I was so frightened that I ran back down the mountain as if the evil spirit were after me, and I did not stop until I was safe at home. Then I began to think. Of course, at first I had thought only of an Austrian, but when I stopped to think, I knew that Austrians don't speak such Italian--low and very soft this was, as my mother used to speak, and your Roderigo. Well, then of course, I wanted to die of shame; I had run away from one of the soldiers. I thought about it all night, and I could not sleep.

Just before dawn I got up very softly and went down to the shed. I filled two pails half-full and carried them up to the same place.

"I could not see or hear any one, but I left them, and that afternoon I went back to see if it had been taken away. There were the empty pails, and beside them a strip of paper with four pennies wrapped up inside.

"After that, I took the milk up every day to the plateau, but I never saw or heard the soldier again. Sometimes he would write me a little note and say 'thank you,' to me, but always there was the money. So that is why I called him my soldier of the pennies; do you see?"