Lucia went back to the ward and did not stop until she stood beside
Roderigo's bed. He was asleep, but his brows were drawn together in a
worried frown. Lucia put her finger on her lip and turned to her
cousin and pointed. Maria looked; a glad light came into her eyes, and
without a sound she fell on her knees beside the bed.

Lucia left her and went over to Sister Francesca. She was awfully
tired, and her arms were numb, but she did not dare stop for fear she
would not be able to begin again.

"What can I do?" she asked.

Sister Francesca pointed to two empty buckets. "Go out to the well and
fill those. We need more water badly," she said, without looking up.

Lucia picked up the pails and walked to the end of the room, through a
little side door and into a cloister. In the center of it was an old
well that she worked by turning an iron wheel.

Lucia drew the water and poured it into her pails, and started back
with them. It had been all her tired arm could do to lift the empty
ones, but now each step made sharp pains go up to her shoulders. She
staggered along with them, fighting hard against the dizziness in her
head, but when she was half-way down the ward everything began to swim
before her. She swayed, lost her balance, and would have fallen had
not a strong arm caught her. The pails fell to the floor, the water
splashing over the tops.

Through the singing in her ears she heard an angry voice.