"Who told you?" Lucia's eyes flashed excitedly. Her loyal little
Italian heart beat with eager anticipation.

"Do you suppose I can see him?" she demanded, "but of course, I must,
even if I have to hide under the Captain's bed. He is sure to stop and
speak to my Captain," she added with pride.

"Oh, Roderigo says that he always stops and speaks to all the wounded
and shakes their hands, and is very kind and so sorry always when they
are badly hurt. Roderigo says he has talked to soldiers who have won
decorations, and the King himself pins them on--just think of it!"

Lucia gave a profound sigh.

"If he ever spoke to me," she said solemnly, "I would die of joy."

It was several days after Lucia and the Captain had talked in the
garden, and Lucia was beginning to grow accustomed to the wonderful
idea. Her dreams were coming true at last, and she had to admit to
herself that she always believed that they would. Captain Riccardi was
truly a fairy godfather in her eyes, and she proved her gratitude for
his kindness in a hundred little ways a day. It never seemed to enter
her mind that all he was offering, wonderful as it was, could not pay
her for her courage in saving his life.

She insisted upon laying all the credit on his shoulders, and with a
smile and a shrug the Captain accepted the double share, and determined
in his big heart to be worthy of it.

When Lucia and Maria went down to the ward a little later, the patients