's that?"
"I will tell you afterwards," Beppi replied noncommittally.
"I must go and find Maria," Lucia said, "I have not told her half the
things I want to. She won't take proper care of my goats, I know, but
no matter, I will do my best to tell her what to do."
She went into the convent. Maria was busy in the ward, but at Lucia's
beckon she left what she was doing and went to her.
"Come over by Roderigo's bed," Lucia said, "we have only a little time
to talk before we leave."
"Oh, but you must be excited!" Maria exclaimed.
"Look at her eyes," Roderigo laughed, "of course she is."
"Well, and why not," Lucia demanded, "wouldn't you be?" Roderigo
shivered.
"If I were going this day, back to Napoli, I would die from joy," he
said.
"Nonsense, that's what Lucia said about the King's speaking to her,"
Maria reminded, "but she's still alive, and the King not only spoke to
her but kissed her too."
"Do you know," Lucia said quietly, "sometimes I think perhaps I am dead
and this is Heaven."
"Heaven!" Roderigo laughed, "never, it is much too cold, see the sick
yellow sun up there." He pointed to the window, "in Heaven the sun is
hot and the sky is blue, just as you will find it to-morrow. Oh, but I
envy you. What wouldn't I give--" He hesitated and looked at Maria,
"No, I would not go if I could; I am happy here."
Maria's smile rewarded him.
"But surely after the war," Lucia said, "you will both come to Napoli
to live."
"Perhaps," Roderigo assented, "after the war."
They were silent for a moment, aware for the first time of what the
coming separation would mean. Then Roderigo exclaimed gayly,
"But how solemn we are! We must laugh. I tell you, Lucia, when you
see my old grandfather Vesuvius you must give him my best respects, for
mind if you are not respectful to him he may do you some harm."
"Oh, I will be very careful," Lucia laughed, "but I will never call
that cross old, smoking mountain my grandfather, I can promise you
that."
"Haven't you some friends that Lucia could see?" Maria inquired, "or
could she perhaps take a message to your family."
"No." Roderigo shook his head, "she will not be near them, but
perhaps--" He turned to Lucia, "if you are ever walking along the
shore below Captain Riccardi's place, you may meet a soldier, an old
man with a scar on his face; if you do, he is my uncle Enrico."
"But what does he do on the beach?" Maria inquired.
"Oh, he watche
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