It was a long walk, for the river twisted and turned many times before
it reached the walls of Cellino. But it did not tire Lucia, as it did
the two men. They walked slower and slower as the afternoon wore on,
stopping every few minutes to rest and talk excitedly.

At a little before sunset the guns grew louder and seemed to be much
nearer. All day there had been a dull rumble, but now they burst out
into a terrific roar. Lucia saw the men below her stop and look up.
They stood still for a long time, and then hurried on. Until now the
road had been deserted, but ahead at the end of a footbridge, just
around a sharp turn, Lucia, from her vantage point, could see another
figure. The soldiers could not have seen him, but when they reached
the turn of the road they both left the open and took cover in the
rocks above.

Lucia watched narrowly. They did not stop as she half expected them to
do, but crept on until they were abreast of the man. He was a beggar
to judge by his shabby clothes, and he was apparently whiling away his
afternoon by staring into the river.

Lucia's first thought was that the Austrians would shoot him. She
caught her breath sharply when a queer thing happened. One of the
soldiers picked up a stone and threw it down into the stream.




CHAPTER VIII