been trying to tell her that they are Italian. Which of us is right?
You are a soldier and ought to know."

"Our guns, of course. They have a different sound," Roderigo explained
impressively.

He had never been any nearer to the front than he was at this moment,
but he spoke with the assurance of an old soldier, partly to quiet
Maria's fears, but mostly to still his own nervous forebodings. It
would never do to let the little black-eyed Lucia see that he was even
a little afraid.

"There, what did I tell you!" Lucia was triumphant. "I knew, but of
course you would not believe me. Now perhaps you will tell her that we
will not have to run away at a minute's notice, too?"

She turned to Roderigo, but eager as he was to display his importance
he could not give the assurance she asked. The little knowledge that
he had, made him think that the evacuation was very likely to occur at
any day.

He covered his fears, however, by replying vaguely: "One can never be
sure. War is war, and perhaps it may be necessary, as well as safer,
for you to leave for the time being."

Lucia looked at him narrowly.

"What makes you say that?" she demanded. "Have you heard any of the
officers talking?"