"The Saints preserve us!" Señora Rudini covered her face with her apron
and cried. "My sons! My sons! Where are they, dead or prisoners?"

"No, no, they are safe," Lucia protested. "They are with the Army.
Don't worry, when the reënforcements reach them they will go forward
again."

But her aunt refused to be comforted. Everywhere in the street women
were calling excitedly, and a number of them besieged the officers for
information.

The soldiers hurried to their billets and got together their kits. The
square buzzed and hummed with excitement and the guns kept up a steady
bass accompaniment.

The bugle sounded a different order every little while. Some of the
more prudent women went home and began packing their household
treasures, but for the most part every one stayed in the market-place
and argued shrilly.

"Come!" Lucia exclaimed, catching Maria's hand. "We can watch them
march off from the top of the wall by the gate."

They ran quickly through the side streets, and by taking many turns
they at last reached the broad top of the wall, which they ran along
until they were just above the north gate.

"Here they come!" Maria exclaimed. "I can hear them."