Then the officer who had ordered Lucia shut up in the tool-house, gave
them some orders that she could not understand.

One soldier came over to the shed and unlocked the door. He beckoned
Lucia to step outside, and as the men filed past the door he handed
each one a pick and shovel. When they had all received them, and Lucia
expected to return, the Captain spoke to her. His Italian was so very
bad she pretended not to understand.

"What is your name?" was his first question.

Lucia shook her head.

"Your name?" he persisted. "Marie, Louise, Josephine?"

"No, Señor," Lucia replied bewildered.

"Well then, what is it?"

"I don't understand."

"Your name?"

"No, Señor."

"Your name? Have you no sense--stupid!" The Captain's patience was
fast giving way.

Now to call an Italian stupid is the worst possible insult, and Lucia's
cheeks flushed hotly. She was very angry, and she determined not to