"Nonsense," Lucia spoke shortly. There was an angry gleam in her big eyes and her cheeks flushed a dark red.

"Leave Cellino, indeed! The very idea! Since when must Italians make way for Austrians, I'd like to know?"

"But if the enemy are advancing as they say," Maria protested nervously, "we will either have to leave, or be shelled to death by those dreadful guns."

"Or be taken prisoners, and a nice thing that would be," her mother added. "No, if the order to evacuate comes we must go at once. There will be no time to spare. Other towns have been captured, and there is only that between us."

She pointed to the zigzag mountain peaks so short a distance beyond the north gate. As if to give her words weight, a heavy thunder of guns rumbled ominously.

Maria shuddered. "There, that is ever so much nearer. Oh, I am frightened,—something dreadful is happening over there just out of sight."

"Silly! those are our own guns. Ask any of our soldiers," Lucia said.

"Here comes your guard, the handsome Roderigo Vicello, maybe he can tell us. Good morning to you!" she called gayly and beckoned the soldier to come to them.

"I hope you are well this morning," Roderigo said respectfully, bowing to Señora Rudini.

"Oh, we are well, but very frightened," Maria replied, trying hard to imitate her cousin's gaiety.

"Maria thinks that the guns we heard just now are Austrian, and I have been trying to tell her that they are Italian. Which of us is right? You are a soldier and ought to know."

"Our guns, of course. They have a different sound," Roderigo explained impressively.

He had never been any nearer to the front than he was at this moment, but he spoke with the assurance of an old soldier, partly to quiet Maria's fears, but mostly to still his own nervous forebodings. It would never do to let the little black-eyed Lucia see that he was even a little afraid.

"There, what did I tell you!" Lucia was triumphant. "I knew, but of course you would not believe me. Now perhaps you will tell her that we will not have to run away at a minute's notice, too?"

She turned to Roderigo, but eager as he was to display his importance he could not give the assurance she asked. The little knowledge that he had, made him think that the evacuation was very likely to occur at any day.

He covered his fears, however, by replying vaguely: "One can never be sure. War is war, and perhaps it may be necessary, as well as safer, for you to leave for the time being."

Lucia looked at him narrowly.

"What makes you say that?" she demanded. "Have you heard any of the officers talking?"

"No, but this morning's news is very bad. We have our orders to be ready to start at any moment."

"Oh!" Maria caught her breath sharply, and her eyes filled with tears as she looked at Roderigo shyly.

He saw the tears in surprise, and a contented warmth settled around his heart. He looked half expectantly at Lucia. Surely, if this calm, shy girl of the north would shed a tear for him, she with the warm blood of the south in her veins would weep. But Lucia's eyes were dry, and the only expression he could find in them was envy. He turned away in disgust. He did not admire too much courage in girls, for he was very young and very sentimental, and he enjoyed being cried over.

A bugle sounded from the other end of the street, and in an instant everything was in confusion. The soldiers hurried to answer, and the people crowded about to see what was going to happen.

Lucia, eager and excited, snatched Maria's hand and pulled her into the very center of the crowd. An officer, with the bugler beside him, read an order from the steps of the town hall, an old gray stone building that had stood in silent dignity at the end of the square for many centuries.

The girls were not near enough to hear the order, but they soon found Roderigo in the excited mass of soldiers, and he explained it to them.

"We are to leave for the front at once," he cried excitedly. "We have not a moment to spare. Tavola has been captured by the enemy, and our troops are retreating through the Pass."

"The Saints preserve us!" Señora Rudini covered her face with her apron and cried. "My sons! My sons! Where are they, dead or prisoners?"

"No, no, they are safe," Lucia protested. "They are with the Army. Don't worry, when the reënforcements reach them they will go forward again."

But her aunt refused to be comforted. Everywhere in the street women were calling excitedly, and a number of them besieged the officers for information.

The soldiers hurried to their billets and got together their kits. The square buzzed and hummed with excitement and the guns kept up a steady bass accompaniment.

The bugle sounded a different order every little while. Some of the more prudent women went home and began packing their household treasures, but for the most part every one stayed in the market-place and argued shrilly.

"Come!" Lucia exclaimed, catching Maria's hand. "We can watch them march off from the top of the wall by the gate."

They ran quickly through the side streets, and by taking many turns they at last reached the broad top of the wall, which they ran along until they were just above the north gate.

"Here they come!" Maria exclaimed. "I can hear them."

The paved streets of the town rang with the heavy tramp, tramp of men marching, and before long they appeared before the gate. The order to walk four abreast was given. The men took their places, and then at a brisk pace they marched through the old gate, a sea of bobbing black hats and cock feathers.

The townspeople followed to cheer them excitedly. Lucia and Maria leaned dangerously over the edge of the wall in their attempt to recognize the familiar faces under the hats.

The soldiers looked up and called out gayly at sight of Lucia. She had taken off her flowered kerchief and was waving it excitedly. The wind caught her dark hair and blew it across her face, and her bright skirts in the sunshine made a vivid spot of color against the stone wall. The men turned often to look back at her as they marched along the wide road.

Maria did not lift her eyes from the sea of hats beneath her. She was waiting for one face to look up. At last she had her wish. Roderigo's place was towards the end of the column; when he walked under the gate he looked up and smiled. It was a sad smile, full of regret.

Without exactly meaning to, Maria dropped the flower she was wearing in her bodice. Roderigo caught it and tucked it, Neapolitan fashion, behind his ear, then he blew a kiss to Maria and marched on.

Lucia watched the little scene. She was half amused and half contemptuous. Her little heart under its gay bodice was filled with a fine hate that left no room for pretty romance.

CHAPTER IV

LOST

When the soldiers had climbed out of sight into the mountains, Maria walked slowly back to find her mother, and Lucia after a hurried good-by ran home to tell Nana and Beppino the news.

She was far more worried over the possible order to evacuate than she would admit. As their cottage was the farthest north on the road, it would be the nearest to the Austrian guns. Personally Lucia scorned the very idea of the Austrian guns, but she could not help realizing the danger to Nana and Beppino and Garibaldi. She was still undecided what to do when she reached the cottage.

Nana Rudini was standing in the doorway, shading her eyes with her withered old hand, and staring intently in the direction that the soldiers had taken.

"Did you see the troops, Nana?" Lucia asked cheerfully. "They were a fine lot, eh? I guess they will be able to stop the enemy from coming any nearer."

"Nearer?" queried Nana, "what are you saying?"

"We have had bad luck," Lucia explained. "Tavola has been captured, and our soldiers are retreating.