Through the singing in her ears she heard an angry voice.

“Poor youngster, whoever sent her out for water?  Seems to me she’s earned a rest.  Here, sister, help me, will you?”

Then Maria’s soft voice came to her.

“Lucia dear, don’t look like that!” she cried excitedly.  “Here, senor, put her on the bed, so.”

She felt herself being lifted ever so gently, and then the soothing comfort of a mattress and a pillow stole over her and she fell sound asleep.

She did not wake up until late in the afternoon.  The sun was setting and the long ward was in deep shadow.  She opened her eyes for a minute and then closed them again.  She was too blissfully comfortable to make any effort.

She was conscious first of all of a strange quiet.  The guns seemed to have very nearly stopped, there was only a faint rumble in the distance, and an occasional sputter from the guns near by.

The enemy had retreated beyond, far into the hills, and for the time being Cellino was safe.  Lucia guessed as much and smiled to herself.

People tiptoed about the room near her, and she could hear their voices indistinctly.  She did not try to hear what they said, she was too tired to think.  She snuggled closer in the soft pillows and sighed contentedly, but before long a voice near her separated itself from the rest, and she heard: 

“We will go to my beautiful Napoli, you and I, and I will show you the water, blue as the sky, and we will be very happy, and by and by you will forget this terrible war, as a baby forgets a bad dream.”

Lucia opened one eye and moved her head so that she could see the speaker.  He was Roderigo, of course, and he was holding Maria’s hand and talking very earnestly.

Lucia eavesdropped shamelessly.  She was curious to hear what her cousin would say.

“But surely you will not fight again!” Maria’s voice was pleading.  “You are so sick, they will not send you back again.”

“But I must go back, my wound is not a bad one and I will be well in no time, and I must go back.  Think how foolish it would be, if I was to say, ‘Oh, yes, I fought for two days in the great war.’  You would be ashamed of me, and that little cousin of yours, Lucia, she would think me a fine soldier.”

Lucia laughed aloud and the voices stopped.

Maria’s cheeks flushed and she jumped up.

“Are you awake, dear?” she asked hurriedly, “then I will go and tell Sister Francesca and the Doctor.”

She hurried off.  Lucia sat up and looked at Roderigo.  She was a sorry sight in her muddy clothes, and her hair fell about her shoulders.

“You are a fine soldier, Roderigo Vicello,” she said impulsively, “and I would say so if you had only fought for one day, for I know how brave you are.  But you are right to want to go back.”

“Yes, I am right,” Roderigo replied.  He stretched out his hand and Lucia slipped hers into it.