BACK TO FIGHT
A big gray car, very like the one that had come to Cellino, drove up
before the door of the Riccardi villa two days later.
The Captain, once his mind was made up, did not waste any time in
carrying out his plans. He was eager to rejoin his comrades in the
north, but when the time came to leave he was very sorry to say good-by
to Lucia. She had found a warm and secure spot in his big heart, and
he knew he would miss her gay chatter and the laughing expression of
her eyes.
All the household were on the steps to say good-by, even Nana had been
prevailed upon to leave her seat in the garden by the well, and her
lace bobbins, long enough to see him off.
Beppi danced about excitedly. "Oh, please hurry up and end the old
war," he cried impatiently, "and come back, we will be so lonely
without you. I promise to be very, very good."
"That's right, and when I come home I shall bring you all the souvenirs
I promised; an Austrian helmet and a piece of shell," the Captain
replied.
"And your sword, don't forget that," Beppi reminded him.
"Oh no, of course I won't forget that," the Captain swung Beppi high in
the air above his head and kissed him, then he turned to Lucia.
"I will be good too," she promised, laughing.
"Of course you will, but you must be happy too, that is the most
important of all," the Captain said seriously. "Be sure and pick all
the flowers in the garden and stay out in the sunshine all day."
"And may I take the flowers to the hospital?" Lucia asked, "we have so
many in the house, and the sick soldiers would love them so."
"Yes, do what you like with them," the Captain replied, "but be
careful, don't do anything dangerous, you are such a spunky little
fire-brand, that I can't help worrying."
"Oh, but you mustn't, I will be so very careful. Besides there is
nothing to do down here, it is not like Cellino."
"Well, you can't always be sure," the Captain said, his eyes twinkling,
"if there was any danger you'd be sure to be in the heart of it."
"No, I will close my eyes tight," Lucia promised, "and walk in the
other direction, that is, unless it was something very, very important."
"I thought so. Well, I guess you'll be safe here, safer than you've
ever been before, anyway," the Captain said, "and now good-by."
He kissed her low, broad forehead, very gently.
"Good-by, fairy godfather, come back soon." Lucia tried not to let her
voice tremble.
The Captain got into the car hurriedly. He waved to the group on the
steps until he was out of sight.
Lucia went back into the house, but the spacious rooms and high
ceilings only added to her unhappiness. She almost longed for the
comfort of the tiny old cottage and the familiar sight of the green bed.
She wandered about listlessly; she was quite alone. Nana had gone back
to her lace making, and Beppi was in the garden. The old man and his
wife--the Captain's faithful servants--were in the kitchen.
In the library Lucia stopped before the rows of books and tried to read
their titles. But she gave it up and looked at the pictures, that
amused her for a little while, for she thought they were beautiful, but
she did not understand them. She could not give anything her undivided
attention for her thoughts were on the way with the Captain, and she
was fighting against the unhappiness that threatened to overpower her.
"Surely he will come back," she said, to a copy of Andrea del Sarto's
St. John that hung above the mantel. "This cruel war has taken my real
father; it cannot take my godfather too." She gave herself a little
shake, "It is that I am lonely that I think such sad thoughts, I will
go out to the garden and pick flowers for the soldiers."
Accordingly she found her basket and scissors and spent the rest of the
afternoon in the garden. When her basket was piled high she put on her
hat very carefully, regarding it from every angle of the Florentin
mirror. It was the first hat she had ever owned and she was very proud
of it.
When it was tilted to her satisfaction she took up the basket and went
out by the garden gate.
The hospital was a little over a mile away. Lucia had visited it with
Captain Riccardi. It had formerly been a private villa and its
terraced gardens went down to the water's edge.
Lucia knew the way and she loitered along, enjoying the newness of the
scenes about her. Everything and everybody were so different, the
fishermen with their bright sashes and Roman striped stocking caps, the
old women and the young girls in their bright dresses, with great gold
loops hanging from their ears. Even the sound of their voices was
different as they called out greetings to one another.
Lucia decided that the very first thing she would do when the Captain
came home would be to ask him for a pair of gold earrings.
So occupied was she with her thoughts that she reached the gate to the
hospital before she realized it. She lifted the heavy knocker; an old
man opened the door.
"This is not visiting day, little one," he said, as he looked down at
Lucia.
"Oh, I am not visiting," she replied, "I brought these few flowers for
the sick soldiers; will you take them?"
"Indeed I will." The old man held out his hand. "Do you want the
basket back again?"
"Oh, no, there's no hurry for that, I will get it the next time I
come," Lucia replied. "I mean to bring flowers every day or two for
the soldiers."
"That is very kind of you," the old man smiled, "I'll take these right
up."
Lucia nodded and turned to go back along the road. The sun was setting
over the water, and below the bay beckoned invitingly. She looked and
decided to go home that way.
She took a path that led to the water's edge. It was steep, for that
part of the coast rose high above the water. She was tired when she
reached the bottom and sat down to rest on the low stone wall.
The soft lapping of the water made her drowsy, and she slipped to the
sand, leaned her head against the wall and closed her eyes.
There was not a sound but the soothing voice of nature, the ripple of
the water, the sighing of the wind and the occasional cry of a sea bird.
All the sounds together seemed to rock Lucia in a sort of lullaby, and
it was not many minutes before she was asleep.
When she awoke it was quite dark and she was conscious of a difference
in the voice of the water. A heavy regular splash, splash, grew nearer
and nearer as she listened. If she had been accustomed to living near
the water she would have recognized it as the rhythmic stroke of oars,
but she did not, and it was not until a shape loomed up in the dusk a
little farther down the beach that she realized it was a boat.
She got up and walked towards it. If it was a fisherman's boat she
wanted to see it, even if it meant being late to supper.
But it was not a fisherman's boat, it was a light, high-sided row boat
and the man in it stood up and pushed forward on his stout oars.
He made a landing on the sand before Lucia reached him, and he jumped
out hurriedly.
Whatever his business was it occupied all his thoughts, for he did not
look to right or left but ran straight to the wall. Another figure
came out of the shadows to meet him. They spoke in whispers, but Lucia
was near enough to hear what they said.
She listened out of curiosity for it struck her as being rather strange
that a man dressed in beautiful dark clothes, with a hat such as she
had seen the men in Rome wear, should be out on the beach whispering in
the shadow of the wall to a boatman.
When she had listened she was even more surprised.
"It's all right, I've fixed it, you can get aboard her at midnight."
The boatman's voice was husky and very mysterious.
"Be sure and be here on time," the man replied, "this spot is safe,
wait until the guard has passed and then land. If there is any danger,
whistle."
The boatman nodded. "It's a risky business," he objected.
"You will be well paid for it," the man answered sharply. "Now go."
Lucia watched him disappear into the dusk and waited until the boatman
had rowed out of sight. Then she straightened her hat and started for
home, thinking very hard as she hurried along.