At the shed she stopped and looked at the door. It was light, and she soon tore it away from its support. Then she went into the cottage and came back with a rope. She made a loop and put it over the goat's head. Then with two long pieces she contrived a harness and hitched the door to it. One end dragged on the ground, and the other was about a foot above it. The rope was crossed on the goat's back and tied firmly to the long ends of the door that did duty as shafts. Garibaldi was too disheartened to protest, and Lucia had little trouble in leading her down the hill.
The soldier was delirious when she reached him, but he was so weak that it was an easy matter to roll him on to the improvised stretcher.
Lucia took hold of one shaft, and with Garibaldi pulling too, they started off.
It was a long and weary climb, but at last they reached the cottage.
The terrible jolting had been agony for the soldier. He regained consciousness on the way, and from time to time a groan escaped him. But when he was in the house he did his best to smile, and crawled onto the mattress that Lucia had pulled to the floor.
She made haste to take off his knapsack, and under his direction she dressed the ugly wound in his thigh. Her fingers, only used to rough work, moved clumsily, but she managed to make him a little more comfortable. He smiled up at her bravely.
"Poor little one, you are tired. Go and eat," he whispered. And Lucia, after she saw his head sink back on the pillow, found a stale loaf of black bread and began to munch it slowly.
The soldier pointed to his knapsack and told her to eat whatever she found in it.
"There should be some of my emergency rations left," he said faintly.
Lucia found some dried beef and offered it to him, but he shook his head and asked for a drink of water. She gave it to him, but his eyes closed and his head fell back as he drank. She ate all the beef and a cake of chocolate that she found; and then went to the door to look out.