ide 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 shells did not fall near them as she had
expected, and after her first fright had passed, 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