Giuseppe and Lucia
The Austrian laughed a cruel sort of a laugh, and asked, "Which way did they go?"
Poor Lucia could not say any more for sobbing, but pointed with her hand up the road,—never in her innocence thinking of misleading him. It was enough; in another moment he was leading on his men, with the hope of soon surprising and destroying the Italians.
When they were out of hearing, Giuseppe flung himself on the ground, crying bitterly. "Ah, little Lucia," he said, "how could you betray our General, the hope of Italy? Why did you not let the Austrian kill me?"
"O brother, brother," replied the child, weeping, "how could I let him? I love you better even than Garibaldi; besides, he is such a great fighter, may be he will kill them all."
"No, no," groaned the poor lad, "they are too many for him, if they take him by surprise."
Suddenly he sprang up, his face looking all bright and eager, and said, "Little sister, now you have done our General so much mischief, are you brave enough to try to save him?"
"Why, what can such a little thing as I do?"
"I will tell you. You can stay here with the pipes and marionettes, while I run over the mountain by a little path,—a cross-cut I know,—and warn Garibaldi that the Austrians are after him. I will be back by midnight, I hope, but you must stay here till I come; there will be moonlight, and it will not be cold. Dare you stay alone?"
"Yes," answered Lucia, firmly, though turning quite pale; "the blessed Mother of our Lord will watch over me, and may be our mother will come with her. I think she 's a saint; I am sure she ought to be made one."