on the bridge. She did not attempt to
go to the road, but kept to the shelter of the rocks, and a little to
one side of the fire. The shells were bursting all around her, but she
was above the range of the guns, and comparatively safe.

She hurried as fast as she could, but it was hard to keep the
direction, in all the noise and blinding flames. She did not dare to
look towards Cellino, or think what that hideous column of smoke might
mean.

At last she reached the river, and the bridge was in sight a little
distance ahead. It was an old stone bridge, and wide enough for men to
walk four abreast. At that point the river was very wide and the
bridge was made in three arches. It looked very substantial, and Lucia
stopped, suddenly terrified by the thought that she did not have the
slightest idea how or where to blow it up.

She looked about her as if for inspiration. She found it in the moving
line of men just visible far above in the mountains.

The Austrians! They were advancing, and the sudden realization of it
brought out all her courage and daring, and intensified the hatred in
her heart.

"They shall not cross our bridge," she shouted defiantly, and raced
ahead regardless of the rain of shot and shell.

But when she reached the bridge she stopped again, helpless and
completely baffled. The wall rose above her high and impregnable. A
little farther along, the window of the convent seemed to be ablaze
with light. The church had been struck, and Lucia could feel the heat
of the flames from where she stood.

The North Gate seemed miles away, and she turned to the convent. She
knew there was a door that gave on to the river bank, and she ran
forward. She found it and pushed frantically against it. It was
locked, the only other opening being a window higher up.

Lucia looked at it in despair. It was her only chance. The glass had
been smashed by the impact of the bursting shells and lay in broken
bits under her feet. She could just reach the ledge with her hands,
and the stone felt warm. The wall was rough and uneven, and after a
struggle she managed to find a foothold and pulled herself up. The
jagged glass still in the casement cut her hands, but she did not stop
to think about it. Once inside she ran along the dark corridor and up
the few steps that led to the first floor. The big iron doors were
open, and she caught her first sight of the town.

The convent was just outside, and on the