reply now at any cost. She shook her head therefore, and a very
stubborn and unpromising light came into her brown eyes.

The Captain looked at her in disgust.

"Well, I suppose your name does not matter anyway," he said gruffly.
"Where do you live?"

Another shake of the small black head, and an expressive shrug.

"You live in Cellino, so why not say so? Come, no more sulking. If
you won't answer me of your own free will, you must be made to answer."

"No, Señor," Lucia smiled provokingly.

"No--what in thunder do you mean?"

"No, Señor," there was not a trace of impertinence in her face.

The officer looked at her in despair.

"Do you, or don't you understand what I am saying?" he demanded.

"No, Señor," Lucia reiterated.

"Where is the soldier who found this girl?" the Captain shouted to an
orderly.

Lucia did not understand what he said, but she knew that her captor was
well out of sight with his pick and shovel by now, and in all