"Viva! Viva!" A great cry rose within the walls of Cellino, and swelled to a mighty cheer, as a gray automobile drove slowly through the Porto Romano, and stopped in the market-place opposite the town hall.
The soldiers who had so bravely defended the town were lined up ready for inspection, and as the King lifted his hand to salute the colors, a silence, as profound and as moving as the cheer had been, fell over the crowd.
Lucia, with Beppi held tightly by the hand, was on the edge of the crowd. She trembled with excitement as she looked at the greatest, and best-loved man in all Italy.
"See!" she whispered excitedly to Beppi, "that is the King—our King! Look at him well, for we may never be lucky enough to see him again in our whole lives."
Beppi's big eyes were round with wonder. He looked. His gaze fastened on the shining sword. Then the memory that he might some day be a General returned to him, and he drew himself up very straight. As the King passed on his inspection, his little hand went up in a smart salute.
His Majesty stopped, smiled, and returned the salute gravely.
Beppi waited until he had walked on, then he buried his face in Lucia's skirts, and wept from sheer joy.
Lucia's pride knew no bounds. Her heart was beating wildly, but she stood very still until the King went into the town hall, then she picked Beppi up in her arms and ran excitedly across the town and out to the convent.
"We can see him again, darling, so stand very still," she said. "He is coming to see the soldiers."
They watched the gate eagerly, and before long the gray car came through it very slowly. A crowd of people surrounded it, cheering and throwing flowers. The King smiled and bowed to them all. Lucia's eyes never left his face. Suddenly she saw him lean forward excitedly as the big car stopped. Beppi tugged at her skirts.