The soldiers who had so bravely defended the town were lined up ready
for inspection, and as the King lifted his hand to salute the colors, a
silence, as profound and as moving as the cheer had been, fell over the
crowd.

Lucia, with Beppi held tightly by the hand, was on the edge of the
crowd. She trembled with excitement as she looked at the greatest, and
best-loved man in all Italy.

"See!" she whispered excitedly to Beppi, "that is the King--our King!
Look at him well, for we may never be lucky enough to see him again in
our whole lives."

Beppi's big eyes were round with wonder. He looked. His gaze fastened
on the shining sword. Then the memory that he might some day be a
General returned to him, and he drew himself up very straight. As the
King passed on his inspection, his little hand went up in a smart
salute.

His Majesty stopped, smiled, and returned the salute gravely.

Beppi waited until he had walked on, then he buried his face in Lucia's
skirts, and wept from sheer joy.

Lucia's pride knew no bounds. Her heart was beating wildly, but she
stood very still until the King went into the town hall, then she
picked Beppi up in her arms and ran excitedly across the town and out
to the convent.