THE BEGGAR
As the sun rose higher, a quiet settled over the clearing. The men
talked and smoked, and the Captain read a newspaper at the door of his
dugout.
No one bothered Lucia, and she kept very quiet. She had had nothing to
eat since the night before and she was very hungry, but she would not
for the world ask her enemies for food. She was not above accepting
it, however, when a little before noon one of the soldiers brought her
a hard and tasteless biscuit and a cup of water. She ate greedily, and
then tired out from so much excitement she fell asleep.
She awoke an hour later to a scene of activity. She could see through
the peek-hole that the Captain was consulting his watch every little
while, and the men were hurrying about excitedly. They all looked up
at a certain mountain above with suspicious eyes, and Lucia could tell
by the tone of their voices that they were angry about something.
A few minutes later the arrival of a very muddy and tired soldier from
the opposite direction created a diversion. He saluted the Captain and
handed him a message. Whatever the message was, it pleased the
Captain, for he brought his fist down on his knee and laughed. Then he
gave some very long; and to Lucia, unintelligible orders, and the men
lost some of their ugly rebellious look.
He chose two soldiers from the group before him, and motioned them into
his dugout. Lucia tried to make something out of the strange words
that the other men spoke, but she could not. They were eagerly
questioning the messenger and giving him food and water. He was
answering them, and from the expression of their faces his replies were
not cheering. At last he stood up, shrugged his shoulders and for the
first time noticed Garibaldi.
The other soldiers explained, and Lucia knew they were discussing her
when they pointed to the shed. The messenger evidently suggested
milking the goat, for after a little laughing and jesting, one of the
men took a pail and approached Garibaldi.
Now, no one had ever milked Garibaldi in all her life but Lucia, and
from the disastrous attempts on the part of the soldiers it was evident
that no one was ever going to, if that very particular animal could
prevent it, and she seemed quite able to, to judge from the results.
Lucia watching through the cracks in the shed laughed softly to
herself. She was not surprised when, a few minutes later, one of the
men opened the door and told her to come out.
He could not speak Italian and he resorted to the sign language. Lucia
nodded in understanding. She might have pretended blank stupidity, but
she wanted some milk herself, and this was a good way to get it.
Besides, she decided that she would do something to make it impossible
for them to lock her up again on her return.
Garibaldi stood quite still as she milked her, and submitted meekly to
her affectionate pats.
The messenger drank greedily from the pail, and when he had finished
there seemed to be nothing else for Lucia to do but return to the shed.
She walked back to the door as slowly as possible, and looked hard at
the lock. It was just an ordinary padlock and it hung open on the
rusty catch. She looked quickly at the men behind her. They were busy
talking, and did not appear to be paying any attention to her.
Very quickly, without seeming to do it, she touched the padlock; it
swung on the catch, and then fell into the mud. Lucia put her foot
over it and ground it in with her heel.
When the soldier remembered her a few minutes later, and came over to
shut the door, he grumbled at the loss of the lock, but he did not
apparently connect her with its disappearance, nor did he bother much
about looking for it. He shut the door and walked back to join the
group that still surrounded the messenger.
Lucia sat down again and watched the door of the Captain's dugout. She
had wondered all day what the smiling Italian soldier and Beppi had
done after she left. She knew that Beppi could easily find his way
back to the cottage, and in case Nana had already gone, and Lucia knew
that in spite of her threats she would not go off alone, he would go
into the town and some one would take care of him.
As for the soldier, he would hear the rat, tat, tat, and know what it
meant, and return to his comrades for help. She listened, but there
was no sound of guns near enough to mean a fight close at hand.
The thought puzzled her, but she dismissed it as the Captain and the
two soldiers came out of the dugout. The men looked cross and sullen,
but the Captain was still smiling. He walked over to the messenger,
handed him a folded paper, and the man disappeared as mysteriously as
he came.
Lucia did not pay any attention to him, however, for she was interested
in the two soldiers. They were very busy buckling on their kit bags in
preparation for a departure. When they were ready, they stood at
attention before the Captain. After more orders from him, they started
off down the hill just back of the shed.
Lucia guessed that they were going to the river, with a cold feeling
around her heart, she realized that they could go straight to the wall
of Cellino. She did not stop to consider the many sentries who walked
up and down the walls day and night, or the fact that two enemy
soldiers would hardly walk up and attempt to enter a town in broad
daylight. She only knew that the river led to Cellino, and that all
she loved most in the world was there.
She was sick with fear. She looked back at the Captain; he was again
consulting his watch. The soldiers looked at him and fell to grumbling
again. After a moment of indecision he called to them.
They stood up and saluted. He gave a very peremptory order, and in a
few minutes almost all of them had their guns on their shoulders, and
waited his next word. The Captain himself buckled on his revolver, and
the party started off at a brisk pace through the tunnel.
Lucia watched them go. In a hazy way she realized that they were going
out in search of the men who had left earlier in the morning. This was
correct in part, but they were also going to look for another party of
men, the ones who had been responsible for the rat, tat, tat, Lucia had
heard.
The diggers, led by her captor, had been sent out that morning to
relieve their comrades already at work. When none of them returned the
Captain grew anxious, and was himself leading the searching party.
If Lucia had known, she would have realized that her Italian soldier
was in some way responsible for their absence, and she would have been
delighted. As it was, she dismissed the Captain with a shrug and
turned her attention to the few soldiers who remained. They were a
little distance from her, and most of them had their backs to her.
Lucia determined to try to slip out unnoticed. She waited until they
were all talking at once. By their angry gestures they appeared to be
discussing something of great importance; none of them even glanced
towards the shed.
Lucia pushed open the door very gently and waited. No one noticed it,
then she laid down flat and crawled out into the mud; it was slow work,
but in the end it proved the best way, for she reached the tree and
Garibaldi without being discovered. The shed hid her from sight. She
hurriedly untied the rope and freed the goat. It had never entered her
mind to escape and leave her behind.
Garibaldi, free once more, ran down the steep hill her hoofs making no
more than a soft, pad, pad noise in the mud. Lucia dropped to the
ground again and crawled slowly after her. Below her, almost at the
river's edge, she could see the two soldiers slipping and stumbling
along.
She wriggled on in the mud until she was well below the crest of the
hill, then she got up and began to run. She jumped from one rock to
the next, always keeping the two men in sight, but keeping under cover
herself. The men kept to the bank of the river and moved forward
cautiously. Lucia kept abreast of them, but stayed high up above their
heads.
It was a long walk, for the river twisted and turned many times before
it reached the walls of Cellino. But it did not tire Lucia, as it did
the two men. They walked slower and slower as the afternoon wore on,
stopping every few minutes to rest and talk excitedly.
At a little before sunset the guns grew louder and seemed to be much
nearer. All day there had been a dull rumble, but now they burst out
into a terrific roar. Lucia saw the men below her stop and look up.
They stood still for a long time, and then hurried on. Until now the
road had been deserted, but ahead at the end of a footbridge, just
around a sharp turn, Lucia, from her vantage point, could see another
figure. The soldiers could not have seen him, but when they reached
the turn of the road they both left the open and took cover in the
rocks above.
Lucia watched narrowly. They did not stop as she half expected them to
do, but crept on until they were abreast of the man. He was a beggar
to judge by his shabby clothes, and he was apparently whiling away his
afternoon by staring into the river.
Lucia's first thought was that the Austrians would shoot him. She
caught her breath sharply when a queer thing happened. One of the
soldiers picked up a stone and threw it down into the stream.