She reached home before either Nana or Beppino were awake, and hurried to finish her milking.  When the scant breakfast was over, she was ready to start for town with her pails.

When she entered the market-place, it was to find a very different scene from the one of the day before.  The place was thronged with soldiers, but they were not laughing and jesting; instead, little groups congregated around the stalls and talked excitedly.  Some of the old women had covered their faces with their black aprons, and were rocking back and forth on their chairs in an extremity of woe.

There was an unnatural hush, and men and women alike lowered heir voices instinctively as they talked.

Lucia had seen the same thing many times before.  She guessed, and rightly too, that a battle was going on, and that news of some disaster had reached the little town.  She did not go at once to her aunt’s stall, but left her pails inside the big bronze door of the church, and slipped quietly inside.  The place was deserted, and the lofty dome was in dark shadow.  Long rays of pale yellow light from the morning sun came through the narrow windows and made queer patches on the marble floor.  In the dim recesses of the little chapels tiny candles flickered like stars in the dark.

Lucia looked about her to make sure that she was alone, and then walked quickly to one of the chapels and dropped four shining copper pennies into the mite box that stood on a little shelf beside the altar.  She stayed only long enough to say a hasty little prayer, and then hurried out again into the sunshine.  The clouds of the night before and the mist of the early morning had disappeared, and the market-place was bathed in warm golden sunshine.

Lucia picked up her pails and hurried to her aunt’s stall.

“Well, you are late,” Maria said.  “We thought you had stubbed your toe and spilled all the milk.”

“And only two half-full pails again,” Senora Rudini grumbled.  “But no matter, we can get more from old Paolo.  Have you heard the news?” she asked abruptly.

“No,” Lucia replied indifferently.  “What is it?”

“A big gain by the enemy.  They have taken thousands of our men, and they say we may be ordered to leave Cellino at any minute.”

“Think of it!  They are as near as that!” Maria said excitedly.  “Oh if we must move, where can we go to?  I am so frightened.”

“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.”