lying down in the sunshine, and
as Lucia watched her she saw a familiar figure running towards her.
She saw it stop and pat the goat. With a cry of joy she recognized
Maria, bedraggled and muddy, but without doubt Maria. She ran forward
to meet her.

"Maria, where have you come from?" she called as the older girl threw
herself into her out-stretched arms and began to cry.

"Oh, from miles and miles away! I have been running since late last
night," she sobbed.

"But what has happened? Beppi, Nana, are they safe?" Lucia demanded.

"Yes, yes, they are all safe with mother," Maria replied.

"Then why did you come back?" Lucia persisted.

"Oh, I could not bear it!" Maria tried to stifle her sobs. "All
yesterday, as we ran away from the guns, I kept thinking--back there,
there is work and I am running away. I knew that you were here, and I
thought you were killed. Nana was half crazy with fear and we could
get nothing out of her."

"But Beppi, he is safe, and aunt is taking care of him?" Lucia insisted.

"Oh, he is safe, of course, and so excited over his adventure, but he
was crying for you last night, and we had hard work to comfort him."

Maria paused, and Lucia looked into her eyes. There was a question
there and she knew that her cousin did not give voice to it. She put
her arm around her and led her back towards the convent.

"Come," she said, smiling with something of her old mischievousness.
"There is much to be done, and I will take you to Sister Francesca.
She will tell you where to begin."

Maria followed her.

Lucia went back to the ward and did not stop until she stood beside
Roderigo's bed. He was asleep, but his brows were drawn together in a
worried frown. Lucia put her finger on her lip and turned to her
cousin and pointed. Maria looked; a glad light came into her eyes, and
without a sound she fell on her knees beside the bed.

Lucia left her and went over to Sister Francesca. She was awfully
tired, and her arms were numb, but she did not dare stop for fear she
would not be able to begin again.

"What can I do?" she asked.

Sister Francesca pointed to two empty buckets. "Go out to the well and
fill those. We need more water badly," she said, without looking up.

Lucia picked up the pails and walked to the end of the room, through a
little side door and into a cloister. In the center of it was an old
well that she worked by turning an iron wheel.

Lucia drew the water and