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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/34905-0.txt b/34905-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6561f8d --- /dev/null +++ b/34905-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,19841 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Pobratim, by P. Jones + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Pobratim + A Slav Novel + +Author: P. Jones + +Release Date: January 10, 2011 [EBook #34905] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE POBRATIM *** + + + + +Produced by Catherine B. Krusberg + + + + + + +THE POBRATIM + +A SLAV NOVEL + +BY + +PROF. P. JONES + +LONDON + +H. S. NICHOLS + +3 SOHO SQUARE and 62A PICCADILLY W + +MDCCCXCV + +[_All Rights Reserved._] + + + +_Printed and Published by_ + +H. S. NICHOLS + +AT 3, SOHO SQUARE, LONDON, W + + + +TO + +HIS HIGHNESS + +PRINCE NICHOLAS OF MONTENEGRO + +THIS BOOK IS HUMBLY DEDICATED. + + P. JONES + +TRIESTE, +17_th June_, 1895. + + + +CONTENTS + +ST. JOHN'S EVE + +THE BOND OF FRIENDSHIP + +CHRISTMAS EVE + +NEW YEAR'S DAY + +DUCK SHOOTING AT NONA + +THE BULLIN-MOST + +SEXAGESIMA + +MURDER + +THE HAYDUK + +PRINCE MATHIAS + +MANSLAUGHTER + +MARGARET OF LOPUD + +STARIGRAD + +THE "KARVARINA" + +A COWARD'S VENGEANCE + +THE VAMPIRE + +THE FACE IN THE MIRROR + +THE CONVENT OF ST. GEORGE + +THE "KARVA TAJSTVO" + +"SPERA IN DIO" + +FLIGHT + +THE "GIUSTIZIA DI DIO" + +THE WEDDING + + + + +POBRATIM + + + + +CHAPTER I + +ST. JOHN'S EVE + + +There was quite a bustle at Budua, because Janko Markovic and Milos +Bellacic had just come back from Cattaro that very morning, and--what +was really surprising--they were both getting shaved. + +Now, it has always been a most uncommon occurrence amongst us for a +man to get shaved on a Friday. + +Mind, I do not mean to say that I consider this operation as being in +any way unlucky if performed on that day. We, of course, cut our hair +during the new moon; but there is no special time for shaving. +Cutting one's nails on a Saturday brings on illnesses, as we all +know; and I, without being superstitious, can name you lots of people +who fell ill simply out of disregard to the wisdom of their elders. +Nay, I myself once suffered a dreadful toothache for having +thoughtlessly pared my nails on the last Saturday of the year. + +Shaving on Saturday, however, cannot be considered as harmful +either to the body or to the soul. Still, as we all go to the +barber's once a week, on Sunday morning, it has hitherto been +regarded as part of our dominical duties. + +There was, therefore, some particular reason that made these +prominent citizens shave on a Friday; could the reason be another +change in the Government? + +Quite a little crowd had gathered, by ones and by twos, round the +hairdresser's shop; some were standing, others sitting, some smoking, +others eating dried melon seeds--all were gravely looking at the +barber, who was holding Bellacic by the tip of his nose and was +scraping his cheek with a razor which kept making a sharp, stridulous +noise as it cut down the crisp, wiry stubble hair of almost a week's +growth. Then the shaver left the nose, for, as a tuft of hair in a +hollow spot under the cheek-bone was renitent to the steel blade, he +poked his thumb in his customer's mouth, swelled out the sunken spot +and cleaned it beautifully. He was a real artist, who took a pride in +doing his work neatly. He then wiped the ends on his finger, cast the +soap to the ground with a jerk and a snap, then he rubbed his hand on +the head of an urchin standing by. + +The barber, who was as inquisitive and as loquacious as all the +Figaros of larger towns, had tried craftily and with many an ambage +to get at the information we were all so anxious to know; but +nothing seemed to induce our clients to speak. + +"I suppose," said he, with a pleasant smile, "I'll soon have new +customers to shave?" + +"Yes? Who?" quoth Markovic. + +"Why, your sons, Uros and Milenko." + +"No, not yet; they'll not be back before some months." + +All conjectures and guesses, all suppositions and surmises were at +last at an end. The barber, although he had been a long time about +it, had finished shaving Bellacic; Markovic was now sitting down with +the towel tied round his neck. + +"This afternoon we start for Cettinje," said Bellacic, wiping himself. + +An "Ah!" of satisfaction and expectation was followed by a moment +of breathless silence. The barber stopped soaping his client's face +and turned to look at Bellacic. + +"On a diplomatic mission, of course?" he asked, in a hollow whisper. + +"On a diplomatic mission." + +"To the Vladika, eh?" + +Everyone looked significantly at his neighbor, some twisted their +long moustaches, others instinctively lifted their hands to the hafts +of their knives. They all seemed to say: "It is what we have been +suspecting from the very beginning. Montenegro will take back Cattaro +and Budua." Thereupon every face brightened. + +It was natural to surmise such a thing in those times, inasmuch as in +the course of a few years we had been shifting from hand to hand. The +French had taken us from the Venetians; then we became Russians; the +English drove the Cossacks away, and gave us over to the Austrians, +our present masters. + +"Of course, nobody goes to Cettinje without doing homage to the +Vladika. Still, our mission is not to the Prince." + +We all looked at Bellacic and at Markovic in blank astonishment. + +"You might as well tell them," said one of the friends to the other. +"Besides, it is a thing that all the town will know in a few days." + +"Well," quoth Markovic, "our mission is not a political one. We are +deputed by Radonic----" + +"By Radonic?" interrupted the shaver. "But he is not in Budua." + +"No, he is at Perasto with his ship. We saw him at Cattaro." + +"Well?" + +"And he is going to get married." + +"Married?" + +"But he is too old," said a youth, without thinking. + +"We have only the age we look," retorted an elderly man, snappishly. + +"Well, but Radonic looks old," answered the young man. + +"But to whom is he going to be married?" + +"To Milena." + +"What! Milena Zwillievic?" + +"Exactly; to the prettiest girl of Montenegro!" + +Many a young face fell, more than one brow grew cloudy, and a bright +eye got dim. + +"It is an impossible marriage," said someone. + +"A rich husband, a horned bull," quoth another. + +"But he is much older than she is." + +"We marry our sons when we like, and our daughters when we can," +added Figaro, sententiously. + +"Still, how could Zwillievic consent to take for his son-in-law a +man as old as himself?" + +"A hero of the _Kolo_." + +"And yet Zwillievic is a man with a gold head, a wise man." + +"Yes, but he has also gold hands," replied Markovic. + +"He did not follow the proverb--" added Bellacic, "'Consult your +purse, then buy.' His passion for arms ruined him; debts must be +paid." + +"We were once on board the same ship with Radonic," said one of the +friends; "so he asked me to be the _Stari-Svat_." + +"And I," added the other, "as Zwillievic is a kinsman of mine, I +must be _voivoda_." + +"Ah, poor Milena! the year will be a black one to her." + +"After all, she'll henceforth be able to sit in flour." + +"And we all have our Black Fridays." + +By this time Markovic had been shaved, the two friends wended their +way homewards, and the crowd dispersed. + +"And now," you evidently ask, "who is this Milos Bellacic and his +friend, Janko Markovic?" + +Two well-to-do citizens of Budua, the last of all Austrian towns, two +_gospodje_, but, unlike most of the Buduans and the other Dalmatians, +they were real Iugo-Slavs, Illyrians of the great Serbian stock. + +As children they had clung to one another on account of the +friendship that existed between their fathers; as they grew older +this feeling, of almost kinship, was strengthened by the many trials +they had to undergo in common, for Fate seemed to have spun their +lives out of the selfsame yarn. At fourteen they had left home, on a +schooner bound for distant coasts; later, they got shipwrecked, and +swam--or rather they were washed--ashore, clinging to the same plank. +Thus they suffered cold, hunger, "the whips and scorns of time" +together. + +From America, where they had been cast by the waves, they worked their +way to Trieste, hoping from thence to return to their native place, +ever dear to their hearts. This ill wind, so fatal, not only to the +ship, but to the remainder of the crew, proved to be the young men's +fortune. Trieste was, at the time, in the very beginning of its +mushroom growth, before that host of adventurers had flocked thither +from every part of the world with the hopes of making money. + +It is not to be wondered that, after the hard life these young men +had undergone, they understood the full strength of the Italian +proverb--"Praise the sea, but keep to the shore." Sober and +hard-working as they were, they made up their minds to try and +acquire by trade what they could hardly get by a rough seafaring +life--their daily bread and a little money for their old age. + +Strongly built, they started life as porters. Like beasts of burden, +they were harnessed to a cart the whole of the long summer days, or +else they helped to unload the ships that came in port. + +Having managed to scrape a little money together, they began to trade +on their own account. They imported from Dalmatia, wine, sardines, +carobs, and _castradina_, or smoked mutton; they exported cotton +goods. They got to be shareholders, and then owners, of a bark, a +_trabacolo_. The times were good; there was, as yet, little or no +competition; therefore money begot money, and, though they could +neither read nor write, still they soon found themselves the owners +of a sum of money which--to them--was unlimited wealth. Had they +remained in Trieste, they might have got to be millionaires, but +they loved their birthplace even more than they did riches. + +Once again in Budua, they added a good many acres of vineyards and of +olive-trees to their paternal farms, and, from that time, they lived +there in all the contentment this world can afford. They married, +but, strange to say, they were not blessed with many children; each +of them had only one son. Janko's son was, after his friend, named +Milenko; the other infant was christened Uros. + +These two children are the _pobratim_ of our story. + +"But what is the meaning of this strange word?" you ask. + +Have but a little patience, and it will be explained to you in due +time. + +Uros and Milenko had inherited with their blood that friendship +which had bound their fathers and forefathers before them. As +children, they belonged to either mother, and they often slept +together in the same trough-like cradle scooped out of the trunk +of a tree; they ate out of the same _zdila_--the huge wooden +porringer which served the family as table dish and plates; they +drank out of the same _bukara_, or wooden bottle, for, being rich +and having vineyards of their own, wine was never wanting at their +meals. + +At fourteen they, like their fathers, went off to sea, for lads must +know something of the world. Happily, however, they both came back to +Budua after a cruise of some months. Though they met with many +squalls, still they never came to any grief. + +As a rule they staid away cruising about the Adriatic and the Levant +from November to the month of August; but when the harvest-time drew +nigh, they returned home, where hands were wanted to reap and garner +such fruits as the rich soil had yielded. After the vintage was over +and the olives gathered, the earth was left bare; then they set off +with the swallows, though not always for warmer climes. It was the +time when sudden gales blow fiercely, when the crested waves begin to +roll and the sea is most stormy. + +A few months after that memorable Friday upon which Bellacic and +Markovic had got shaved, exciting thereby everybody's astonishment, +they themselves were surprised to see their sons return unexpectedly. +The fact was that, upon reaching Cattaro, the ship on which they had +embarked was sold and all the crew were paid off. As they did not +think it worth their while to look for another ship, they seized this +opportunity to go and spend the 24th of May at home, for St. John's +is "the maddest, merriest day of all the glad New Year." Moreover, +they were lucky, for the year before had been a plentiful one, whilst +the new crops promised, even now, to make the _pojata_ groan under +their weight; for whilst an empty and a scanty larder can afford but +a sorry welcome, a hospitable man becomes even lavish when his casks +are full of wine, his bins are heaped with corn, his jars overflow +with oil; when, added to this, there is a prospect of more. + +Uros and Milenko had but just arrived home when a little boy--the +youngest son of a wealthy neighbour, whose name's day was on the +morrow--appeared on the threshold of their door, and, taking off his +little cap demurely, said, in a solemn voice: + +"Yours is the house of God. My father greets you, and asks you to +come and drink a glass of wine with him. We'll chat to while away the +evening hours, and we'll not withhold from you the good things St. +John, our patron saint, has sent us." + +Having recited his invitation, the little herald bowed and went off +to bear his message elsewhere. + +The family, who knew that this invitation was forthcoming, set off at +once for their friend's house. Upon reaching the gate of their host's +garden, all the men fired off their pistols as a sign of joy, amongst +the shouts of "_Zivio_"; then, upon entering, they went up to the +_Starescina_, the master of the house, and wished him, in God's name, +many happy returns of the day. + +A goodly crowd of people had now gathered together, all bent upon +merry-making, and a fine evening they had of it; though, according to +the old men, this was but moping compared to the festivities they had +been used to in their youth. Then, hosts and guests being jolly +together, they quite forgot that time had wings, and eight days would +sometimes pass before anybody thought of leave-taking. + +On that mystic evening almost all the amusements had an allegorical or +weird character. In every game there was an attempt at divination. +Thus the first one that was played consisted in throwing a garland +amidst the branches of a tree. If it remained caught at the first +throw, the owner was to get married during the year; if not, the +number of times the wreath was tossed upwards corresponded with as +many years of patient waiting. It was considered a bad omen if the +garland came to pieces. + +When Uros threw his chaplet of flowers up it came at once down again, +bringing an old wreath that the wind and the winter storms had +respected. + +"Why," said the _Starescina_, turning to Milena, who had come to +witness the game, "surely it is your husband's wreath!" + +"Yes, I remember," added Markovic; "last year Radonic was with us, +and his garland remained in the tree the first time he flung it up." + +"Oh, Uros, fie! you'll bring Radonic ill-luck yet." + +Uros turned round, and his eyes met those of Milena for the first +time. Both blushed. There were a few moments of awkward silence, and +then the young man, touching his cap, said: + +"I am sorry, _gospa_, but, of course, I did not do it on purpose." + +"No, surely not, and, besides, it had to come down sooner or later." + +He tossed his wreath up again, but whether he felt nervous because he +had been laughed at, or because the beautiful eyes of the young +Montenegrine woman paralysed his arm, he felt himself so clumsy and +awkward that he tossed up his garland several times, but he only +succeeded to batter it as it came down again. + +"Just let me try once," said Milenko to his friend, as he cast his +wreath up in the branches of the tree, where it nestled. + +Uros made another attempt; down came his garland, bringing his +friend's together with it, amid the general laughter. + +"Uros is like the dog in the manger," said one of the bystanders; "he +will not marry, nor does he wish other people to do so." + +"Bad luck and a bad omen!" whispered an old crony to Milenko. "Beware +of your friend; nor, if I were Radonic, should I trust my pretty wife +with him. Bad luck and a bad omen!" + +After garland throwing, huge bonfires were kindled, and the +surrounding mountains gleamed with many lights. It was, indeed, a +fine sight to see the high, heaven-kissing flames reflected by the +dark waters of the blue Adriatic. + +But of all the bonfires in the neighbourhood, the _Starescina_'s was +the biggest, for he was one of the richest men of the town. It was +thus no easy matter to jump scathless over it. Still, young and old +did manage to do so, either when the flames--chasing one another +--leapt up to the sky, or else when the fire began to burn low. The +stillness of the night was interrupted by prolonged shouts of +"_Zivio!_" repeated again and again by the echoes of the neighbouring +mountains; but amidst the shouting of "Long life!" you could hear the +hooting of some owl scared by this unusual glimmering light, and +every now and then the shrill cry of some witch or some other ghostly +wanderer of the night, and the suppressed groaning and gnashing of +teeth of evil spirits, disappointed to think that so many sturdy lads +and winsome lassies should escape their clutches for a whole year; +for they have no power against all those who jump over these hallowed +bonfires on the eve of the mystic saint's day. + +"There, did you hear?" said one of the young girls, shuddering. +Thereupon we all crossed ourselves devoutly. + +"It is better not to think of them, they cannot come near us," said +the _Starescina_. + +"It is not long ago that we saw three witches burnt at Zavojane. When +was it, Bellacic?" + +"It was in 1823, in the month of August, on the 3rd, if I remember +rightly." + +"Oh! then they were real witches?" + +"Of course." + +"Were they very ugly? Had they beards?" + +"Oh, no! they were very much like all the other elderly women of the +place." + +"And what had they done?" + +"No end of mischief. One of them had eaten a child alive. Another had +taken a young man's heart out of his body whilst he was asleep. He, on +awaking--not knowing what had happened to him--felt a great void in +his chest." + +"Poor fellow!" said Milena, compassionately, whilst her glances fell +on Uros, and he actually felt like the young man who had lost his +heart. + +"But what was she going to do with it?" + +"Why, roast and eat it." + +"A friar who had witnessed the whole thing, but who had been deprived +of all power of rendering assistance, accused her of witchcraft, and +she was made to give back the heart before she had had time to devour it." + +"How wonderful!" + +"The third had rendered all the balls of the guns aimless, and all +weapons blunt and useless. But these are only some of the many evils +they had done." + +"And you saw them burnt?" + +"Yes, in the presence of the Catholic parish priest, two friars and +all the local authorities." + +The bonfires were now over, and nothing but the glowing embers +remained. All then went in the house to partake of the many good +things that St. John, or his namesake, had prepared for them. + +There was for supper: first, whole lambs, roasted on the spit, then +fish, _castradina_, and many other dishes, all more or less stuffed +with garlic--a condiment which never fails anywhere. It is said that +the gods, having been asked if this bulb was to rank amongst eatables, +decreed that no dish should ever remain without it; and the Slavs +have faithfully followed out their decree. + +When all had eaten till they were crop full, and had drunk their +fill, they all raught after their meat as seemly as Madame Eglentine; +then, loosening their belts, they remained seated on their stools, or +squatted on the ground, chatting, punning, telling anecdotes, or +listening to the grave discourses of the old men about St. John. + +"Fancy," said a deacon of a neighbouring church, "when we have fasted +for a day or two, we think we have done much. St. John, instead, +fasted for forty days and forty nights, without even taking a sip of +water." + +"But why did he fast so long?" + +"Because he had committed a great sin; and on account of this sin he +always walked with his head bent down. When the people said to him, +'John, why do you not lift up your head?' he always replied demurely, +'Because I am not worthy to lift up my eyes heavenwards; and I shall +only do so when an infant, that cannot yet speak, will bid me do it.' +Now, it happened that one day John met a young woman carrying a +little child, and when the infant saw John, he said: 'John, lift up +thine eyes heavenward; my Father has forgiven thee.' The saint, in +great joy, knowing that the babe was Jesus Christ, went at once home; +and with a red-hot iron he burnt the initials of the Saviour on his +side, so that he might never forget his name." + +"And now let's have a story," said the host. + +As Milos Bellacic was noted for his skill in relating a good story, he +was asked by everybody to tell them one of his very best tales. + +Being a man who had travelled, he knew how to treat women with more +deference than the remainder of the Buduans. So turning towards his +host's wife: + +"Which will you have?" said he. + +"Any one you like." + +"'Hussein and Ayesha'?" + +"No," said some. "Yes," added the others, without waiting for the +lady of the house to have her choice. + +"Then 'The Death of Fair Jurecevic's Lovers'?" + +"No, that was an old story." + +"Perhaps, 'The Loves of Adelin the Turk and Mary the Christian'?" + +"They all knew it." + +"Or, 'Marko Kraglievic and the Vila'?" + +"No, leave Marko to the _guzlari_." + +"Well, then, it must be 'The Story of Jella and the Macic.'" + +"Oh!" said the _gospodina_, "I once heard it in my childhood, and now +I only remember its name. Still, I have always had a longing to hear +it again; therefore, do tell it." + +Milos Bellacic swallowed another glass of _slivovitz_, leaving, +however, a few drops at the bottom of his glass, which he spilt on +the floor as a compliment to the _Starescina_, showing thereby that +in his house there was not only enough and to spare, but even to be +wasted. He then took a long pull at the amber mouthpiece of his long +Marasca cherry pipe, let the smoke rise quietly and curl about his +nose, and, after clearing his throat, began as follows: + + +THE STORY OF JELLA AND THE MACIC. + +Once upon a time there lived in a village of Crivoscie an old man +and his wife; they had one fair daughter and no more. This girl was +beyond all doubt the prettiest maiden of the place. She was as +beautiful as the rising sun, or the new moon, or as a _Vila_; so +nothing more need be said about her good looks. All the young men of +the village and of the neighbouring country were madly in love with +her, though she never gave them the slightest encouragement. + +Being now of a marriageable age, she was, of course, asked to every +festivity. Still, being very demure, she would not go anywhere, as +neither her father nor her mother, who were a sullen couple of +stingy, covetous old fogeys, would accompany her. + +At last her parents, fearing lest she might remain an old maid, and +be a thorn rather than a comfort to them, insisted upon her being a +little more sociable, and go out of an evening like the other girls. +"Moreover, if some rich young man comes courting you, be civil to +him," said the mother. "For there are still fools who will marry a +girl for her pretty face," quoth the father. It was, therefore, +decided that the very next time some neighbours gathered together to +make merry, Jella should take part in the festivity. "For how was she +ever to find the husband of her choice if she always remained shut up +at home?" said the mother. + +Soon afterwards, a feast in honour of some saint or other happened to +be given at the house of one of their wealthy neighbours, so Jella +decked herself out in her finest dress and went. She was really +beautiful that evening, for she wore a gown of white wool, all +embroidered in front with a wreath of gay flowers, then an over-dress +of the same material, the sleeves of which were likewise richly +stitched in silks of many colours. Her belt was of some costly +Byzantine stuff, all purfled with gold threads. On her head she wore +a red cap, the headgear of the young Crivosciane. + +As she entered the room, all the young men flocked around her to +invite her to dance the _Kolo_ with them, and to whisper all kinds of +pretty things to her. But she, blushing, refused them all, declaring +that she would not dance, elbowed her way to a corner of the room, +where she sat down quite alone. All the young men soon came buzzing +around her, like moths round a candle, each one hoping to be +fortunate enough to become her partner. Anyhow, when the music struck +up, and the _Kolo_ began, their toes were now itching, and one by one +they slunk away, and she, to her great joy, and the still greater +joy of the other girls, was left quite by herself. + +While she was looking at the evolutions of the _Kolo_, she saw a +young stranger enter the room. Although he wore the dress of the +Kotor, he evidently was from some distant part of the country. His +clothes--made out of the finest stuffs, richly braided and +embroidered in gold--were trimmed with filigree buttons and bugles. +The _pas_, or sash, he wore round his waist was of crimson silk, +woven with gold threads; the wide morocco girdle--the _pripasnjaca_ +--was purfled with lovely arabesques; his princely weapons, studded +with precious stones and damaskened, were numerous and costly. His +pipe, stuck not in his girdle like his arms, but 'twixt his blue +satin waistcoat--_jacerma_--and his shirt, had the hugest amber +mouthpiece that man had ever seen; aye, the Czar himself could not +possibly have a finer pipe. What young man, seeing that pipe with its +silver mounting, adorned with coral and turquoises, could help +breaking the Tenth Commandment? He was, moreover, as handsome as a +_Macic_, aye, as winsome as Puck. + +He came in the room, doffed his cap to greet the company like a +well-bred young man, then set it pertly on his head again. After +that, he went about chatting with the lads, flirting with the +lassies, as if he had long been acquainted with them, like a youth +accustomed to good company. He did not notice, however, poor Jella in +her corner. He took no part in the dances, probably because, every +Jack having found his Jill, there was nobody with whom he could +dance. + +The girls all looked slily at him, and many a one wished in her heart +that she had not been so hasty in choosing her partner, nay, that she +had remained a wallflower for that night. + +At last the young stranger wended his steps towards that corner where +Jella was sitting alone, moping. He no sooner caught sight of her +than he went gracefully up, and, looking at her with a merry twinkle +in his eyes, and a most mischievous smile upon his lips: + +"And you, my pretty one? Don't you dance this evening?" he asked. + +"I never dance, either this evening or any other." + +"And why not?" + +"Because there is not a single young man I care to dance with." + +"Oh, Jella!" whispered the girls, "dance with him if he asks you; we +should so much like to see how he dances." + +"Then it would be useless asking you to dance the _Kolo_ with me, I +suppose?" + +"Oh, Jella! dance with him," whispered the young men; "it would be an +unheard-of rudeness to refuse dancing with a stranger who has no +partner." + +"Even if I did not care about dancing, I should do so for the sake of +our village." + +"Then you only dance with me that it might not be said: 'He was +welcomed with the sour lees of wine'?" + +"I dance with you because I choose to do so." + +"Thank you, pretty one." + +The two thereupon began to go through the maze of the _Kolo_, and, as +he twisted her round, they both moved so gracefully, keeping time to +the music, that they looked like feathery boughs swayed by the summer +breeze. + +About ten o'clock the dances came to an end, and every youth, having +gone to thank his host for the pleasant evening he had passed, went +off with his partner, laughing and chatting all the way. + +"And you, my lovely one, where do you live?" asked the stranger of +Jella. + +"In one of the very last houses of the village, quite at the end of +the lane." + +"Will you allow me to see you home?" + +"If I am not taking you out of your way." + +"Even if it were, it would be a pleasure for me." + +Jella blushed, not knowing what to answer to so polite a youth. + +They, therefore, went off together, and in no time they reached her +house. Jella then bid the stranger good-bye, and, standing on the +door-step, she saw him disappear in the darkness of the night. + +Whither had he gone? Which turning had he taken? She did not know. + +A feeling of deep sadness came over her; for the first time in her +life she felt a sense of bereavement and loneliness. + +Would this handsome young man come back again? She almost felt like +running after the stranger to ask him if they would meet on the +morrow, or, at least, after some days. Being a modest girl, she, of +course, could not do so; moreover, the youth had already +disappeared. + +"Did you bring me any cakes?" was the mother's first question, +peevish at being awakened in her first sleep. + +"Oh, no! _mati_; I never ate a crumb of a cake myself." + +"And you enjoyed yourself?" + +"Oh! very much so; far more than I ever thought." + +Thereupon she began to relate all that had happened, and would have +made a long description of the young man who had danced with her, but +her father woke in the midst of a tough snore and bade her hold her +tongue. + +On the morrow there was again a party in the village, for it was +carnival, the time of the year when good folks make merry. When night +came on, Jella went to the dance without needing to be much pressed +by her parents. She was anxious to know if the young stranger would +be there, and, also, if he would dance with her or with some other +girl. + +"Remember," said her mother to her as she was going off, "do not +dance with him 'like a fly without a head'; but measure him from top +to toe, and think how lucky it would be if he, being well off, would +marry a dowerless girl like you. The whole village speaks of him, of +his weapons and his pipe; still, he might be 'like a drop of water +suspended on a leaf,' without house or home. Therefore, remember to +question him as to his land, his castle, and so forth; try and find +out if he is an only son and from where he comes, for 'Marry with +your ears and not with your eyes,' as the saying is." + +"Anyhow, take this tobacco-pouch," added the old man, "and offer it to +him before he leaves you." + +"Why?" asked Jella, guilelessly. + +"Because it is made out of a musk-rat, and so it will be easy to +follow him whithersoever he goes, even in the darkness of the night." + +Jella, being a simple kind of a girl, did not like the idea of +entrapping a young man; moreover, if she admired the stranger, it was +for his good looks and his wit rather than for his rich clothes; but +being frightened both of her father and her mother, who had never had +a kind word for her, she promised to do as she was bidden. She then +went to the party, and there everything happened as upon the +preceding evening. + +The girls all waited for the handsome young man to make his +appearance, and put off accepting partners till the last moment, each +one hoping that she might be the chosen one. The hour upon which he +had come the evening before was now past, and still they all waited +in vain. The music had begun, and the young men, impatient to be up +and doing, were heavily beating time with their feet. At last the +_Kolo_ began. They had just taken their places, and all except Jella +had forgotten the stranger, when he all at once stepped into the +room, bringing with him a number of bottles of maraschino, and cakes +overflowing with honey and stuffed with pistachios. + +He, as upon the evening before, went round the room, talking with the +young men and teazing the prettiest girls. Then he stepped up to +Jella, and asked her to dance with him. + +The _Kolo_ at last came to an end, the boys went off with the girls, +the old folks hobbled after them, and the unknown youth, putting his +arm round his partner's waist, as if he had been engaged to her, +accompanied her home. + +They soon reached her house; Jella then gave the stranger the +tobacco-pouch, and, having bid him good-night, she stood forlorn on +the door-step, to see him go off. No sooner had he turned his back, +than the father, who was holding the door ajar and listening to every +word they said, slipped out, like a weasel, and followed him by the +smell of his musk pouch. + +The night was as still as it was dark, the moon had not yet risen, a +hushed silence seemed to have fallen over nature, and not the +slightest animal was heard stirring abroad. + +The young fellow, after following the road for about a hundred paces, +left the highway and took a short cut across the fields. The old man +was astounded to see that, though a stranger, he was quite familiar +with the country, for he knew not only what lane to take, but also +what path to follow in the darkness of the night, almost better than +he did himself. He climbed over walls, slipped through the gaps in +the hedges, leapt over ditches, just as if it had been broad +daylight. + +Jella's father had a great ado to follow him; still, he managed to +hobble along, like an ungainly, bow-legged setter, as fast as the +other one capered. They crossed a wood, where the boles of the trees +had weird and fantastic shapes, where thorny twigs clutched him by +his clothes; then they came out on a plain covered with sharp flints, +where huge scorpions lurked under every stone. Afterwards they +reached a blasted heath, where nothing grew but gnarled, knotty, and +twisted roots of trees, which, by the dusky light of the stars, +looked like huge snakes and fantastical reptiles; there, in the +clumps of rank grass, the horned vipers curled themselves. After this +they crossed a morass, amidst the croaking of the toads and the +hooting of owls, where unhallowed will-o'-the-wisps flitted around +him. + +The old man was now sorely frightened; the country they were crossing +was quite unknown to him, and besides, it looked like a spot cursed +by God, and leading to a worse place still. He began to lag. What was +he to do?--go back?--he would only flounder in the mire. He crossed +himself, shut his eyes tightly, and followed the smell of the musk. +He thus walked on for some time, shivering with fear as he felt a +flapping of wings near him, and ever and anon a draught of cold air +made him lose the scent he was following. + +At last he stopped, hearing a loud creaking sound, a grating +stridulous noise, like that of the rusty hinges of some heavy iron +gate which was being closed just behind him. + +A gate in the midst of a morass! thought he; where the devil could +he have come to? As he uttered the ominous word of _Kudic_ he heard +the earth groan under his feet. + +It is a terrible thing to hear the earth groan; it does so just +before an earthquake! + +He did not dare to open his eyes; he listened, awed, and then the +faint sound of a distant bell fell upon his ears. + +It was midnight, and that bell seemed to be slowly tolling--aye, +tolling for the dead, the dead that groan in the bosom of the earth. + +A shiver came over him, big drops of cold sweat gathered on his +forehead. He sniffed the cold night air; it smelt earthy and damp, +the scent of musk had quite passed away. + +At last he half-opened his eyes, to see if he could perceive anything +of the young stranger. The moon, rising behind a hillock, looked like +a weird eye peeping on a ghastly scene. What did he see--what were +those uncouth shapes looming in the distance, amidst the surrounding +mist? + +Why was the earth newly dug at his feet, shedding a smell of clay and +mildew? + +He felt his head spinning, and everything about him seemed to whirl. + +What was that dark object dangling down, as from a huge gallows? + +Whither was he to go?--back across the wide morass, where the earth, +soft and miry, sank under his feet, where the unhallowed lights lead +the wanderers into bottomless quagmires? + +He opened his eyes widely, and began to stare around. He saw strange +shapes flit through the fog, figures darker than the fog itself rise, +mist-like, from the earth. Were they night-birds or human beings? He +could not tell. + +All at once he bethought himself that they were witches and wizards, +_carovnitsi_ and _viestitche_, the _morine_ or nightmares, and all +the creatures of hell gathering together for their nightly frolic. + +Fear prompted him to run off as fast as he possibly could, but huge +pits were yawning all around him; moreover, curiosity held him back, +for he would have liked to see where the damned store away their +gold; so, between these two feelings, he stood there rooted to the +earth. + +At last, when fear prevailed over covetousness, he was about to flee; +he felt the ground shiver under his feet, a grave slowly opened on +the spot where he stood, for--as you surely must have understood--he +was in the very midst of a burying-ground. At midnight in a +burying-ground, when the tombs gape and give out their dead! His hair +stood on end, his blood was curdling within his veins, his very heart +stopped beating. + +Can you fancy his terror in seeing a _voukoudlak_, a horrid vampire +all bloated with the blood it nightly sucks. Slowly he saw them rise +one after the other, each one looking like a drowsy man awaking from +deep slumbers. Soon they began to shake off their sluggishness, and +leap and jump and frolic around, and as the mist cleared he could see +all the other uncouth figures whirl about in a mazy dance, like +midges on a rainy day. + +It was too late to run away now, for as soon as these blood-suckers +saw him, they surrounded him, capering and yelling, twisting their +boneless and leech-like bodies, grinning at him with delight, at the +thought of the good cheer awaiting them, telling him that it was by +no means a painful kind of death, and that afterwards he himself +would become a vampire and have a jolly time of it. + +At the sight of these dead-and-alive kind of ghosts, the poor man +wished he had either a pentacle, a bit of consecrated candle, or +even a medal of the Virgin; but he had nothing, he was at the mercy +of the fiends; therefore, overpowered by fear, he fell down in a +fainting-fit. + +That night, and the whole of the following day, Jella and her mother +waited for the old man to come back; but they waited in vain. When +the evening came on, her mother persuaded her to go to the +dancing-party and see if the young stranger would come again. + +"Perhaps," said she, "he might tell you something about your father; +if not, ask no questions. Anyhow, take this ball of thread, which I +have spun myself, and on bidding him good-bye, manage to cast this +loop on one of his buttons, drop the ball on the ground, and leave +everything to me. Very likely your father has lost the scent of the +musk, and is still wandering about the country. This thread, which is +as strong as wire, is a much surer guide to go by." + +Jella did as she was bid. She went to the house where the _Kolo_ was +being danced; she spent the whole evening with the young stranger, +who never said a word about her father, and when the moment of +parting on the threshold of the door arrived, she deftly fastened the +end of the thread to one of his buttons, and then stood watching him +go off. + +The ball having slowly unwound itself, the old woman darted out and +caught hold of the other end of the string. Then she followed the +youth in the darkness, through thorns and thickets, through brambles +and briars, as well as her tottering legs could carry her, much in +the same way her husband had done the evening before. + +That night and the day afterwards, Jella waited for her father and +mother, but neither of them returned. When evening came on, afraid of +remaining alone, she again went to dance the _Kolo_. + +The evening passed very quickly, and the rustic ball came to an end. +The youth accompanied her home as he had done the evening before, and +on their way he whispered words of love in her ear, that made her +heart beat faster, and her head grow quite giddy, words that made her +forget her father and mother, and the dreaded night she was to pass +quite alone. Still, as they got in sight of the house, Jella, who was +very frightened, grew all at once quite thoughtful and gloomy. Seeing +her so sorrowful, the young stranger put again his arm round her +waist, and looking deep into her dark blue eyes, he asked her why she +was so sad. + +She thereupon told him the cause of all her troubles. + +"Never mind, my darling," said the youth, "come along with me." + +"But," faltered Jella, hesitatingly, "do you go far?" + +"No, not so very far either." + +"Still, where do you go?" + +"Come and see, dear." + +Jella did not exactly know what to do. She fain would go with him, +and yet she was afraid of what people might say about her, and again +she shuddered at the thought of having to remain at home quite alone. + +"You are not afraid to come with me," he asked; "are you?" + +"Afraid? No, why should I be? you surely would take care of me?" + +"Of course; why do you not come, then?" + +"Because the old women might say that it is improper." + +"Oh," quoth he, laughing, "only old women who have daughters of their +own to marry, say such things!" + +Thereupon he offered her his arm, and off they went. + +Soon leaving the village behind them, they were in the open fields, +beyond the vineyards and the orchards, in the untilled land where the +agaves shoot their gaunt stalks up towards the sky, where the air is +redolent with the scent of thyme, sage and the flowering Agnus castus +bushes; then again they went through leafy lanes of myrtle and +pomegranate-trees and meadows where orchis bloomed and sparkling +brooks were babbling in their pebbly beds. + +Though they had been walking for hours, Jella did not feel in the +least tired; it seemed as if she had been borne on the wings of the +wind. Moreover, all sense of gloom and sadness was over, and she was +as blithe and as merry as she had ever been. + +At last--towards dawn--they reached a dense wood, where stately oaks +and fine beech-trees formed fretted domes high up in the air. There +nightingales warbled erotic songs, and the merle's throat burst with +love; there the crickets chirped with such glee that you could hardly +help feeling how pleasant life was. The moon on its wane cast a +mellow, silvery light through the shivering leaves, whilst in the +east the sky was of the pale saffron tint of early dawn. + +"Stop!" said the young girl, laying her hand on the stranger's arm. +"Do you not see there some beautiful ladies dancing under the trees, +swinging on the long pendant branches and combing the pearly drops of +dew from their black locks?" + +"I see them quite well." + +"They must be _Vile_?" + +"I am sure they are." + +"Fairies should not be seen by mortal eyes against their wish. Then +do not let us seek their wrath." + +"Do not be afraid, sweet child; we are no ordinary mortals, you and +I." + +"You, perhaps, are not; but as for me, I am only a poor peasant +girl." + +"No, my love, you are much better than you think. Look there! the +fairies have seen you, and they are beckoning you to go to them." + +"But, then, tell me first what I am." + +"You are a foundling; the old man and woman with whom you lived were +not your parents. They stole you when you were an infant for your +beauty and the rich clothes you wore." + +"And you, who are you, _gospod_?" + +"I?" said the young man, laughing. "I am _Macic_, the merry, the +mischievous sprite. I have known you since a long time. I loved you +from the first moment I saw you, and I always hoped that, 'as like +matches with like,' you yourself might perhaps some day get to like +me and marry me. Tell me, was I right?" said he, looking at her +mischievously. + +Jella told him he was a saucy fellow to speak so lightly about such a +grave subject, but then--woman-like--she added that he was not wrong. + +They were forthwith welcomed by the _Vile_ with much glee, and, soon +afterwards, their wedding was celebrated with great pomp and +merriment. + + +"But what became of the old man and his wife?" asked an interested +listener. + +"They met with the punishment their curiosity deserved. They were +found a long time afterwards locked up in an old disused +burying-ground. They were both of them quite dead, for when they +fainted at the terrible sights they saw, the vampires availed +themselves of their helplessness to suck up the little blood there +was in them." + +"May St. John preserve us all from such a fate," said Milos Bellacic, +crossing himself devoutly. + +The story having come to an end, toasts were drunk, songs were sung +to the accompaniment of the _guzla_, the young people flirted, their +elders talked gravely about politics and the crops, whilst the women +huddled together in a corner and chatted about household matters. + +After a while, an old ladle having been brought out, lead was melted +and then thrown into a bucket of water, and the fanciful arborescent +silvery mass it formed was used as a means of divination. + +Most of the girls were clever in reading those molten hieroglyphics, +but none was so versed in occult lore as an old woman, an aunt of the +_Starescina_'s, who was also skilled in the art of curing with +simples. + +Uros and Milenko, therefore, begged the good old woman to foretell +them their future; and she, looking at the glittering maze, said to +them: + +"See here, these two are the paths of your life; see how smoothly +they run, how they meet with the same incidents. These little needles +that rise almost at marked distances are the milestones of the road; +each one is a year. Count them, and you will see that for a length of +time nothing ruffles the course of your life. But here a catastrophe, +then both paths branch out in different directions; your lives from +then have separate ends." The two young men heaved a deep sigh. + +"Anyhow, you have several years of happiness in store for you. Make +good use of your time while it is yours, for time is fleeting." + +Then, as she was rather given to speak in proverbs, she said to Uros: + +"Let your friend be to you even as a brother. Remember that one day, +not very far off either, you will owe your life to him." + +Drinking and carousing, singing and chatting, the evening came to an +end. In the early hours the guests took leave of their host, wishing +him a long and happy life, firing their pistols, not only as a +compliment to him, but also as a means of scaring away the evil +spirits. Upon reaching their houses, they bathed and washed with dew, +they rubbed themselves with virgin oil, so as to be strong and +healthy, besides being proof against witchcraft, for a whole year. + + + + +CHAPTER II + +THE BOND OF FRIENDSHIP + + +"Milenko," said Uros, "have you the least idea how people that are in +love feel?" + +Milenko arched his eyebrows and smiled. + +"No, not exactly, for I've never been spoony myself." Then, after +pondering for a moment, he added: "I should think it's like being +slightly sea-sick; don't you?" + +Uros looked amused. He thought over the simile for a while, then +said: + +"Well, perhaps you are not quite wrong." + +"But why do you ask? You are surely not in love, are you?" + +Uros sighed. "Well, that's what I don't exactly know; only I feel +just a trifle squeamish. I'm upset; my head is muddled." + +"And you are afraid it's love?" + +Uros made a sign of assent. + +"It's not nice, is it?" + +"No." + +"And you'd like to get out of it?" asked Milenko. + +"Yes." + +"Well, then, take a deep plunge. Make love to her heart and soul, as +if you were going to marry her to-morrow. Then, I daresay, you'll +soon get over it. You see, the worst thing with sea-sickness is to +mope, to nurse yourself, and fancy every now and then that you are +going to throw up. It's better to be sick like a dog for a day or +two, as we were, and then it's all over. I think it must be the same +thing with love." + +"I daresay you are right, but----" + +"But what?" + +"I can't follow your advice." + +"Why not?" + +"Because--because----" and thereupon he began to scratch his head. "I +can't make love to her." + +"Can't make love to a girl?" + +"No; for, you see, she's not a girl." + +Milenko opened his eyes and stared. + +"Who is she?" he asked. + +Uros looked gloomy. He hesitated for an instant; then he whispered: + +"Milena!" + +Milenko started back. + +"Not Milena Radonic?" + +Uros nodded gravely. + +"You are right," said Milenko seriously; "you can't make love to a +married woman. It's a crime, first of all; then you might get her +into trouble, and find yourself some day or other in a mess." + +"You are right." + +The two friends were silent for a moment; then Milenko, thinking to +have caught the dilemma by its horns, said: + +"Wouldn't it be the same thing if you made love to some other pretty +damsel?" + +Uros shook his head doubtfully. + +"Darinka, our neighbour Ivo's daughter, is a very nice girl." + +"Very." + +"Well, don't you think you might fall in love with her?" asked +Milenko, coaxingly. + +"No, I don't think I could." + +"Then there is Liepa, for instance; she is as lovely as her name; +moreover, I think she looks a little like Milena." + +"No; no woman has such beautiful eyes. Why, the first time I saw +Milena, I felt her glances scorching me; they sank into my flesh," +and he heaved a deep sigh. + +There was another pause; both the friends were musing. + +"Well, then, I'll tell you what," said Milenko, after a while; "we'll +just go off to sea again. It's a pity, but it can't be helped." + +"And the harvest?" + +"They'll have to manage without us; that's all." + +After having discussed the subject over and over again, it was agreed +that they were to sail as soon as they could find a decent vessel +that could take them both. In the meanwhile, Uros promised to avoid +Milena as much as possible, which was, indeed, no easy matter. + +The day of Milena Zwillievic's marriage had, indeed, been a Black +Friday to her. First, she knew that she was being sold to pay her +father's debts; secondly, Radonic was old enough to be her father. +Added to all this, he was a heavy, rough, uncouth kind of a fellow, +the terror of all seamen, and, as he treated his crew as if they had +been slaves, no man ever sailed with him if he could possibly get +another berth. + +Two or three days after the wedding, Radonic brought his girlish +bride to live with his mother, the veriest old shrewish skinflint +that could be imagined. She disliked her daughter-in-law before she +knew her; she hated her the first moment she saw her. Milena was +handsome and penniless, two heinous sins in her eyes, for she herself +had been ugly and rich. She could not forgive her son for having +made such a silly marriage at his age, and not a day passed without +her telling him that he was an old fool. + +During the first months poor Milena was to be pitied, and, what was +worse, everybody pitied her. She never ate a morsel of bread without +hearing her mother-in-law's taunts. If she cried, she was bullied by +the one, cuffed by the other. + +A month after the wedding, Radonic, however, went off with his ship, +and shortly afterwards his vixen of a mother died, and Milena was +then left sole mistress of the house. Her life, though lonesome, was +no more a burden to her, as it had hitherto been, only, having +nothing to do the whole day, time lay heavy on her hands. + +Handsome and young as she was, with a slight inborn tendency to +flirtation; living, moreover, quite alone; many a young man had tried +to make love to her; but, their intentions being too manifest, all, +hitherto, had been repulsed. On seeing Uros, however, she felt for +him what she had, as yet, never felt for any man, for her husband +less than anybody else. + +She tried not to think of Uros, and the more she tried the more his +image was before her eyes; so the whole of the live-long day she did +nothing else but think of him. She decided to avoid him, and still +--perhaps it was the devil that tempted her, but, somehow or other, +she herself could not explain how it happened--she was always either +at the door or at the window at the time he passed, and then what +could she do but nod in a friendly way to him? + +If she went to pay his mother a visit, she would hurry away before he +came home, and then she was always unlucky enough to meet him on her +way. Could she do less than stop and ask him how he was; besides, +after all, he was but a boy, and she was a married woman. + +Soon she began to surmise that Uros was in love with her; then she +thought herself foolish to believe such a thing, and she rated +herself for being vain. And then, again, she thought: "If he cares +for me more than he ought, it is but a foolish infatuation, of which +he will soon get rid when he goes again to sea." Thereupon she heaved +a deep sigh, and a heaviness came over her heart, at which she almost +confessed to herself that she did love that boy. + +Milena, after the conversation Uros had had with his friend, seeing +herself shunned, felt nettled and sorry. At the same time she was +glad to see that he did not care for her, and then her heart yearned +all the more for him. + +But if he shunned her, was it a sign that he did not care for her? +she asked herself. + +Puzzled, as she was, she wanted to find out the truth, merely out of +curiosity, and nothing more. + +Thus it came to pass that, standing one day on her doorstep, she +beckoned to the young man, as soon as she saw him, to come up to +her. It was a bold thing to do, nor did she do so without a certain +trepidation. + +"Uros," said she to him, "come here; I have something to ask you." + +"What is it?" said the young man, looking down rather shyly. + +"You that have travelled far and wide, can you tell me who speaks all +the languages of this world?" + +"Who speaks all the languages of this world?" echoed Uros, lifting up +his eyes, astonished, and then lowering them, feeling Milena's +glances parch up his blood. + +"Who can it be?" said he, puzzled. + +He tried to think, but his poor head was muddled, and his heart was +beating just as if it would burst. He had never been good at +guessing, but now it was worse than ever. + +"I've heard of people speaking three, four, and five languages, but +I've never heard of anyone speaking more than five." + +"What! You've been in foreign countries," quoth she, smiling archly, +and displaying her pearly teeth, "and still you cannot answer my +question?" + +"I cannot, indeed. There was a man who said he spoke twenty-five +languages, but, of course, he was a humbug. First, there are not +twenty-five languages in the world, and then he couldn't even speak +Slav." + +"Well, well; think over it till to-morrow." + +"And then?" + +"Perhaps you'll be able to guess." + +"But if I don't?" + +"Well, I shall not eat you up as the dragon, that Marko Kraglievic +killed, used to do, if people couldn't answer the questions he put +them." + +"And you'll tell me?" Thereupon he lifted up his eyes yearningly +towards her. + +"Perhaps," she replied, blushing, "but then, you must promise not to +ask Milenko." + +"I promise." + +She stretched forth her hand. He pressed it lingeringly. + +"Nor anybody else?" + +"No." + +"Then I'll tell you to-morrow." + +He bade her good-bye, and went off with a heavy heart; she saw him +disappear with a sigh. + +That whole day Uros thought a little of the riddle, and a great deal +of Milena's sparkling eyes; moreover, he felt the pressure of her +soft hand upon his palm. But the more he pondered over her question, +the more confused his brain grew, so he gave up thinking of the +riddle, and continued thinking of the young woman. On the morrow his +excitement increased, as the time of hearing the answer drew near. + +Milena, as usual, was on the watch for him, leaning on the door-post, +looking more beautiful than ever. As soon as he saw her, he hurried +up to her without being called. + +"Well," said she, with a nervous smile, "have you guessed?" + +"No." + +"Oh, you silly fellow! Who speaks all the languages of the world?" + +"It's useless to ask me; I don't know." + +"What will you give me if I tell you?" said she, in a low, +fluttering voice, and with a visible effort. + +He would willingly have made her a present, but he did not know what +she would like, and, as he looked up into her eyes to guess, he felt +his blood rising all up to his head. + +"Do you want me to bring you something from abroad--a looking-glass +from Venice, or a coral necklace from Naples?" + +No, she did not want anything from abroad. + +"Then a silk scarf?" + +"No, I was only joking. I'll tell you for nothing. Why, who but the +echo speaks all the languages of this world?" + +"Dear me, how stupid not to have thought of it. Tell me, do you think +me very stupid?" + +Milena smiled. She did think him rather dull, but not in the way he +meant. + +"You see how good I am. I tell you for nothing. Now, if you had put +me a riddle, and I could not have answered, you surely would have +asked"--here there was a catch in her voice--"a kiss from me." + +Uros blushed as red as a damask-rose; he tried to speak, but did not +know what to say. + +"Oh! don't say no; you men are all alike." + +The young man looked up at her with an entreating look, then down +again; still he did not speak. Milena remained silent, as if waiting +for an answer; she fidgeted and twisted the fringe of her apron round +her fingers, then she heaved a deep sigh. After a few minutes' pause: + +"Do you know any riddles?" she asked. + +"Oh, yes! I know several." + +"Well, then, tell me one." + +Uros thought for a while; he would have liked to ask her a very +difficult one, but the thought of the kiss he might have for it, gave +him a strong nervous pain at the back of his head. + +"Well," said he, after a few moments' cogitation--"Who turns out of +his house every day, and never leaves his house?" + +She looked at him for a while with parted lips and eyes all beaming +with smiles; nay, there was mischief lurking in her very dimples as +she said: + +"Why, the snail, you silly boy; everybody knows that hackneyed +riddle." Then with the prettiest little _moue_: "It was not worth +while leaving your country to come back with such a slight stock of +knowledge. I hope you were not expecting a kiss for the answer?" + +Uros was rather nettled by her teazing; he would fain have given her +a smart answer, but he could find none on the spur of the moment. +Besides, the sight of those two lips, as fresh and as juicy as the +pulp of a blood-red cherry, made him lose the little wit he otherwise +might have had; so he replied: + +"And if I had?" + +"You would have been disappointed; I don't give kisses for nothing." + +"But you do give kisses?" he asked, faltering. + +"When they are worth giving," in an undertone. + +Uros looked up shyly, then he began to scratch his head, and tried to +think of something tremendously difficult. + +"Well, do you know that one and no other?" she asked, laughing. + +All at once Uros' face brightened up. + +"What is it that makes men bald?" and he looked up at her +enquiringly. + +Had he had a little more guile, he might, perhaps, have seen that +this riddle of his was likewise not quite unknown to her; but he saw +nothing save her pomegranate lips. + +"Oh," said Milena, "their naughtiness, I daresay!" + +"No, that's not it." + +"Then, I suppose, it's their wit." + +"Why?" + +"They say that women have long hair and little wit, so I imagine that +men have little hair and much wit." + +"If that's the case, then, I've too much hair. But you haven't +guessed." + +"Then come to-morrow, and, perhaps I'll be able to tell you." + +"But you'll not ask anybody?" + +She again stretched out her hand to him. As he kept squeezing and +patting her hand: + +"Shall I tell you?" he asked, with almost hungry eyes. + +"And exact the penalty?" + +Uros smiled faintly. + +"Now, that is not fair; I gave you a whole day to think over it." + +"Well, I'll wait till to-morrow; only----" + +"Only, what?" + +"Don't try to guess." + +He said this below his breath, as if frightened at his own boldness. + +On the morrow he again waited impatiently for the moment to come when +he could go and see Milena. The hour arrived; Uros passed and +repassed by the house, but she was not to be seen. He durst not go +and knock at her door--nay, he was almost glad that she did not +expect him; it was much better so. + +He little knew that he was being closely watched by her, through one +of the crannies in the window-shutters. When, at last, he was about +to go off, Milena appeared on the threshold. With a beating heart the +youth turned round on his heels and went up to her. With much +trepidation he looked up into her face. + +"Does she, or does she not, know?" he kept asking himself; "and if +she does, am I to ask her for a kiss?" At that moment he almost +wished she had guessed the riddle, for he remembered his friend's +words: "It was a crime to make love to a married woman." + +"Oh, Uros, I'm like you! I can't guess. I've tried and tried, but +it's useless." + +There was a want of sincerity in the tone of her voice, that made it +sound affected, and she was speaking as quickly as possible to bring +out everything at a gush. After a slight interruption, she went on: + +"Do tell me quickly, I'm so curious to know. What is it that makes +men bald?" + +"It's strange that you can't guess, you that are so very clever," he +said, in a faltering voice. + +"What, you don't believe me?" she asked, pouting her lips in a pretty, +babyish fashion. + +Uros stood looking at her without answering; in his nervousness he +was quivering from head to foot, undecided whether he was to kiss her +or not. + +"Oh, I see, you don't want to tell me; you are afraid I'll not keep +my promise!" + +"I can ask to be paid beforehand; give me a kiss first, and I'll tell +you afterwards." + +Having got it out he heaved a deep sigh of relief, for he was glad it +was over. + +"Here, in the street?" she asked, with a forced smile. + +He advanced up to her and she retreated into the house. He was +obliged to follow her now, almost in spite of himself; moreover, he +could hardly drag himself after her, for he had, all at once, got to +be as heavy as lead. + +As soon as they were both within the house, she closed the door, and +leant her back against it. Then there was an awkward pause of some +minutes, for neither of them knew what to do, or what to say. She +took courage, however, and looking at him lovingly: + +"Now tell me, will you?" said she. + +As she uttered these words they clasped each other's hands, whilst +their eyes uttered what their lips durst not express; then, as Uros +stood there in front of Milena, he felt as if she was drawing him on, +and the walls of the room began to spin round and round. + +"Why, it is the loss of hair that makes people bald," he muttered in +a hot, feverish whisper, the panting tone of which evidently meant-- + +"Milena, I love you; have pity on me." + +She said something about being very stupid, but he could not quite +understand what it was; he only felt the swaying motion and the +powerful attraction she had over him. + +"I suppose you must have your reward now," she said, with a faint +voice. + +The youth felt his face all aglow; the blood was rushing from his +heart to his head with a whirring sound. His dizziness increased. + +Did she put out her lips towards his as she said this? He could +hardly remember. All that remained clear to him afterwards was, that +he had clasped her in his arms, and strained her to his chest with +all the might of his muscles. Had he stood there with his lips +pressed upon hers for a very long time? He really did not know; it +might have been moments, it might have been hours, for he had lost +all idea as to the duration of time. + +From that day, Uros was always hovering in the neighbourhood of +Radonic's house; he was to be found lurking thereabout morning, noon +and night. Milenko took him to task about it, but he soon found out +that if "hunger has no eyes," lovers, likewise, have no ears, and +also that "he who holds his tongue often teaches best." As for Uros, +his friend's reproaches were not half so keen as those he made to +himself; but love had a thousand sophistries to still the voice of +conscience. + +Not long after the eventful day of the riddle, Marko Radonic returned +unexpectedly to Budua, his ship having to undergo some slight +repairs. + +For a few days, Milenko managed to keep Uros and Milena apart, but, +young as they were, love soon prevailed over prudence. They therefore +began to meet in by-lanes and out-of-the-way places, especially +during those hours when the husband was busy at the building yard. At +first they were very careful, but the reiteration of the same act +rendered them more heedless. + +Uros was seen again and again at Milena's door when the husband was +not at home. People began to suspect, to talk; the subject was +whispered mysteriously from ear to ear; it soon spread about the town +like wild-fire. + +A month after Radonic had returned, he was one evening at the inn, +drinking and chatting with some old cronies about ships, cargoes and +freights. In the midst of the conversation, an old _guzlar_ passing +thereby, stepped in to have a draught of wine. Upon seeing the bard, +every man rose and, by way of greeting, offered him his glass to have +a sip. + +"Give us a song, Vuk; it is years since I heard the sound of your +voice," said Radonic. + +The bard complied willingly; he went up to a _guzla_ hanging on the +wall, and took it down. He then sat on a stool, placed his instrument +between his legs, and began to scrape its single gut-string with the +monochord bow; this prelude served to give an intonation to his +voice, and scan the verses he was about to sing. He thought a while, +and then--his face brightening up--he commenced the ballad of "Marko +Kraglievic and Janko of Sebinje." + +We Slavs are so fond of music and poetry, that we will remain for +hours listening to one of our bards, forgetting even hunger in our +delight. No sooner was the shrill sound of Vuk's voice heard than +every noise was hushed, hardly a man lifted his glass up to his +mouth. Even the passers-by walked softly or lingered about the door +to catch some snatches of the poet's song. + +The ballad, however, was a short one, and as soon as the bard had +finished, the strong Dalmatian wine went round again, and at every +cup the company waxed merrier, more tender-hearted, more gushing; a +few even grew sentimental and lachrymose. + +Wine, however, brought out all the harshness of Radonic's character, +and the more he drank the more brutal he grew; at such moments it +seemed as if all the world was his crew, and that he had a right to +bully even his betters, and say disagreeable things to everybody; his +excuse was that he couldn't help it--it was stronger than himself. + +"_Bogme!_" he exclaimed, turning to one of his friends; "I should +have liked to see your wife, Tripko, with Marko Kraglievic. Ah, poor +Tripko!" + +"Why my wife more than yours?" + +"Oh, my wife knows of what wood my stick is made; you only tickle +yours!" + +Tripko shrugged his shoulders, and added: + +"Every woman is not as sharp as Janko of Sebinje's wife, but most of +them are as honest." + +"That means to say that you think your wife is honest," said Radonic, +chuckling. "Poor Tripko!" + +"Come, come," quoth a friend, trying to mend matters, "do not spit in +the air, Radonic Marko, lest the spittle fall back on your face." + +"What do you mean by that?" asked Radonic, who, like all jokers, +could never take a jest himself. + +"I? nothing; only I advise you to be more careful how you trifle with +another man's wife--that's a ticklish subject." + +"Oh, Tripko's wife!" said he, disparagingly. + +"Radonic Marko, sweep before your own door, _bogati_!" replied +Tripko, scornfully. + +"Sweep before my door--sweep before my door, did you say?" and he +snatched up the earthen mug to hurl it at his friend's head, but the +by-standers pinioned his arm. + +"I did, and I repeat it, _bogati_!" + +"And you mean that there's dirt before my house?" asked Radonic, +scowling. + +"More than before mine, surely." + +"Come, Tripko, are you going to quarrel about a joke?" said one of +his friends. + +"My wife is no joking matter." + +"No, no," continued Radonic, "but he who has the itch scratches +himself." + +"Then scratch yourself, Marko, for surely you must itch when you're +not at home." + +"Hum!" said the host, "when asses joke it surely rains." + +Then he went up to the _guzlar_, and begged him to give them a song. +"Let it be something lively and merry," said he, "something they can +all join in." + +The bard thereupon scraped his _guzla_, silence was re-established, +and he began to sing the following _zdravica_: + + "Wine that bubbles says to man: + Drink, oh! drink me when you can; + For I never pass away, + You albeit last but a day; + I am therefore made for you, + And I love men brave and true; + Then remember, I am thine; + Drink, oh! drink the flowing wine!" + +As not one of them cared to see the quarrel continue, and end, +perhaps, in bloodshed, they all began to sing the drinking-song; the +wine flowed, the glasses jingled together in a friendly way, and, for +the nonce, peace prevailed. + +Just then, Milenko--unperceived by everybody except the landlord +--happened to come in, and the host, taking him aside, said to him: + +"Markovic Milenko, tell your friend, Uros, not to be seen fooling +about with Milena, for people have long tongues, and will talk; and, +above all, do not let him be found lurking near Radonic's house +to-night, for it might cost him his life." + +"What! has anybody been slandering him?" + +"Slandering is not the word; enough, tell him that Radonic Marko is +not a man to be trifled with." + +Milenko thanked the innkeeper, and, fearing lest his friend might be +getting into mischief, went at once in search of him. + +As Radonic was about to begin the discussion again, the host stopped +him. + +"You had better wait for an explanation till to-morrow, for when our +heads are fuddled we, like old Marija, do not see the things exactly +as they are. + +"What old Marija?" asked one of the men. + +"Don't you know the story of old Marija? Why, I thought everyone knew +it." + +"No; let's hear it." + + +Well, Marija was an old tippler, who was never known to be in her +senses. + +One morning she rose early, and, as usual, went into the wood to +gather a bundle of sticks. Presently she was seen running back as if +Old Nick was at her heels. Panting, and scared out of her wits, she +dropped on a bench outside the inn. As soon as she could speak, she +begged for a little glass of brandy. + +The people crowded around her and asked her what had happened. + +"No sooner had I left the roadside and got into the wood," she said, +"I bent down to gather some sticks, when, lo and behold! fifty wild +cats, as big as bears, with bristling hair, glaring eyes and sharp +claws, suddenly jumped out from behind the bushes. Holy Virgin! what +a fright I got, and see how scratched and torn I was by those +brutes." + +"Come, come, Marija," said the innkeeper; "you must have seen +double--you know you often do. How many cats were there?" + +"Well, I don't say there were exactly fifty, for I didn't count them; +but as true as God is in heaven there were twenty-five." + +"Don't exaggerate, Marija--don't exaggerate; there are not +twenty-five cats in the whole village." + +"Well, if there were not twenty-five, may the devil take me; surely +there were fifteen?" + +"Pooh! Marija, have another little drop, just to get over your +fright, and then you'll confess that there were not fifteen." + +Marija drained down another glass, and said: + +"May a thunderbolt strike me dead this very moment but five wild cats +pounced upon me all at once." + +"Come, Marija, now that you are in your senses, don't exaggerate. +Tell us how many wild cats there were." + +"Well, I'll take my oath that, as I bent down, a ray of sunlight was +pouring through the branches, and I saw something tremendously big +moving through the bushes; perhaps it was a cat." + +"Or a hare, running away," said the innkeeper. + +"Perhaps it was, for in my fright I instantly ran away too." + + +The men, whom wine rendered merry, laughed heartily, and the +innkeeper added: + +"You see, we are all of us, at times, like old Marija." + +As they were about to part, Radonic asked the man who had told him +not to spit in the wind what he and all the others had meant by their +innuendoes. + +"Oh, nothing at all! were you not joking yourself?" + +Still, by dint of much pressing, he got this man to tell him that +Uros Bellacic, Milos' son, had been seen flirting with Milena. "Of +course, this Uros is only a boy; still," added he, "Milena herself is +young, very young, and you--now, it is no use mincing the matter +--well, you are old, and therefore I, as a friend, advise you to be +more careful how you talk about other men's wives, for, some day or +other, you might find the laughers are against you." + +Thereupon the two men parted. + +Radonic now, for the first time in his life, understood what jealousy +was. He felt, in fact, that he had touched hell, and that he had got +burnt. Alas! his countrymen were right in thinking that Gehenna could +not be worse. + +As he walked on, the darkness of the night and his loneliness +increased the bitterness of his thoughts. He that hitherto had felt a +pleasure in disparaging every woman, was getting to be the +laughing-stock of the town, the butt of every man's jokes. + +Meanwhile, Milenko had gone in quest of his friend, his mind full of +gloomy forebodings. Passing by Radonic's cottage, he stopped and +looked round. The night was dark, and everything had a weird and +ghastly look. The leaves shivered and lisped ominously. Was it a bat +that flitted by him? + +Straining his eyes, he thought he saw something darker than the night +itself move near one of the windows of the house, then crouch down +and disappear. Had his senses got so keen that he had seen that +shadow, or was it only a vision of his over-heated imagination? + +He walked a few steps onward; then he stopped, and began to whistle +in a low, peculiar way. Their fathers had been wont to call each +other like that; and the two young men had sworn to each other that +whatever happened to them in their lifetime they would always obey +the call of that whistle. All dangers were to be overcome, all feuds +to be forgotten at that sound. They had sworn it on the image of St. +George. + +Milenko knew that if his friend was thereabouts he would not tarry a +single moment to come to him. In fact, a moment afterwards Uros was +at his side. + +Milenko explained his errand in as few words as possible. + +"Thank you," said Uros. "I'll go and tell Milena what has happened, +so that she may be on her guard." + +"But Radonic might be here at any moment." + +"I'll be back in a twinkling." + +"Anyhow, if you hear my whistle sneak off at once, and run for your +life." + +"All right." + +Uros disappeared; Milenko remained leaning against the bole of a +tree. He could hardly be seen at the distance of some steps. Snatches +of songs were now heard from afar; it was the drinking-song Vuk had +been singing. The drunkards were returning home. Soon after this he +heard the noise of steps coming on the road. Keeping a sharp +look-out, his keen eyes recognised Radonic's stalwart though clumsy +frame. He at once whistled to his friend, first in a low tone, then +louder and louder, as he came out from his hiding-place and walked on +to meet the enraged husband, and stop him on his way. Uros in the +meanwhile took to his heels. + +"_Dobro vetchir_, Radonic Marko," said Milenko to him. "How are you?" + +"And who are you, so glib with your tongue?" answered Radonic, in a +surly tone. + +"What, do you not know the children of the place?" + +"Children, nowadays, spring up like poisonous mushrooms after a wet +night. How is one to know them?" + +"Well, I am Milenko Markovic, Janko's son." + +"Ah, I thought so," replied Radonic fiercely, clasping the haft of +his knife. "Then what business have you to come prowling about my +house, making me the laughing-stock of the whole place. But you'll +not do so long." + +Suiting the action to the words, he lifted up his knife and made a +rush at the young man. + +Though Milenko was on his guard, and though the hand of the +half-drunken man was not quite steady, still it was firm and swift +enough in its movements for mischief's sake; and so he not only +wounded the young man slightly on his arm, but, the knife being +very sharp, it cut through all his clothes and scratched him, enough +to make him bleed, somewhere about the left breast. Had the blade but +gone an inch or two deeper, death most likely would have been +instantaneous. + +Milenko, quick as lightning, darted unexpectedly upon Radonic, +grasped the knife from his hand, knocked him down, and, after a +little scuffle, held him fast. Although Marko was a powerfully-built +man, still he was heavy and clumsy, slow and awkward in his +movements; and now, half-drunk as he was, it seemed as if his huge +body was no match for this lithe and nimble youth. + +When at last Radonic was fully overpowered, "Look here," said +Milenko, "you fully deserve to have this blade thrust into your +heart, for it almost went into mine. Now, tell me, what have I done +that you should come against me in this murderous way? You say that I +have been prowling about your house; but are you quite sure? And even +if I had, is it a reason to take away my life? Are you a beast or a +man?" + +"Well, when you have done preaching, either let me go or kill me; but +stop talking," said Radonic, sullenly. + +"I'll leave you as soon as I have done. First you must know that I +have hardly ever spoken to your wife. May God strike me blind if I +have! As for prowling about your house--well, half-an-hour ago I was +at the inn." + +"You were at the inn?" asked Radonic, incredulously. + +"Yes; you were all singing a _zdravica_." + +"I was singing?" + +"No; at least, I think not. You were, if I remember rightly, talking +with Livic. I only looked in. Uros Bellacic, another poisonous +mushroom, was with me." + +Just then it came to Radonic's head that this Uros, the son of Milos, +was the young man who had been flirting with his wife. + +"So your friend Uros was with you?" + +"Of course he was, and from there I accompanied him to his house, +where I left him. Now, I was going home, and the nearest way was by +your house. Had I, instead, been making love to your wife, I should +not have come up to you in a friendly way, as I did. I should have +hidden behind some tree, or skulked away out of sight. Anyhow, your +wife is young and pretty; it is but right you should be jealous." + +Milenko thereupon stretched out his hand to help the prostrate man to +rise. + +The bully, thoroughly ashamed of himself, got up moodily enough, +ruminating over all the young man had said, understanding, however, +that he had been too rash, and had thus bungled the whole affair. He +made up his mind, however, to keep a sharp look-out. + +"And now," continued Milenko, chuckling inwardly over his long-winded +speeches, made only to give his friend full time to be off, "as your +wife is perhaps in bed, let me come in and bandage up my arm, which is +bleeding; it is useless for me to go home and waken up my father and +mother, or frighten them for such a trifle. I might, it is true, go +to Uros, but it is not worth while making an ado for a scratch like +this, and have the whole town gossiping about your wife, for who will +believe that the whole affair is as absurd as it really is?" + +Radonic now felt sure that he had made a mistake, for, if this youth +had been trying to make love to Milena, he would not have asked to be +brought unexpectedly before the woman whose house he had just left. + +"Very well," replied he, gruffly, "come along." + +Having reached the cottage, he opened the door noiselessly, stepped +in as lightly as he could, and beckoned to Milenko to follow him. + +Utter darkness reigned within the house. Radonic took out his flint +and struck a light. He was glad to see that his wife was not only in +bed, but fast asleep. + +He helped the young man to take off his clothes, all stained with +blood; then he carefully washed his wounds, dressed them with some +aromatic plants whose healing virtues were well known. After this he +poured out a bumper of wine and pledged Milenko's health, as a sign +of perfect reconciliation, saying: + +"I have shed your innocent blood; mine henceforth is at your +disposal." + +With these words he took leave of him. + +Though it was late, Milenko, far from returning home, hastened to his +friend to tell him what had happened, and put him on his guard from +attempting to see Milena again. + +His advice, though good, was, however, superfluous, for Milena, far +from being asleep, had heard all that had taken place, and, as her +husband kept a strict watch over her, she remained indoors for several +days. + +When the incident came to the ears of either parent--though they +never knew exactly the rights of the whole affair, and they only +thought that it was one of Radonic's mad freaks of jealousy--both +Bellacic and Markovic thought it better to send their sons to sea as +soon as possible. + +"Having sown their wild oats," said Milos, "they can come back home +and settle into the humdrum ways of married life." + +"Besides," quoth Janko, "in big waters are big fish caught. The +shipping trade is very prosperous just now; freights are high; so +after some years of a seafaring life they may put aside a good round +sum." + +"Well," replied Milos, "the best thing would be to set them up in +life; let us buy for them a share of some brig, and they, with their +earnings, may in a few years buy up the whole ship and trade for +themselves." + +The vintage--very plentiful that year--was now over; the olive-trees, +which had been well whipped on St. Paul's Day, had yielded an +unexpected crop, so that the land, to use the Biblical pithy +expression, was overflowing, if not with milk and honey, at least +with wine and oil. The earth, having given forth its last fruits, was +now resting from its labours, but the young men, though they had +nothing more to do on shore, still lingered at Budua, no share of any +decent vessel having been found for them. + +At last the captain of a brigantine, a certain Giuliani, wishing to +retire from business in some years, agreed to take them on a trial +trip with him, and then, if he liked them and saw that they could +manage the vessel by themselves, to sell them half of his ship +afterwards. + +All the terms of the contract having been settled, it was agreed that +the two young men should sail in about a fortnight's time, when the +cargo had all been taken on board. + +Before starting, however, these youths, who loved each other +tenderly, made up their minds to become kith-and-kin to each other +--that is to say, brothers by adoption, or _pobratim_. + +As St. Nicholas--the patron saint of the opposite town of Bari, on +the Italian shores of the Adriatic--is one of the most revered saints +of the Slavs and the protector of sailors, his feast, which was +celebrated just a week before their departure, was chosen for the day +of this august ceremony. + +On the morning of that memorable day, the two young men, dressed, not +in their simple sailor-like attire, but in the gorgeous and +picturesque Buduan costume--one of the most manly and elegant dresses +as yet devised by human fancy--with damaskened silver-gilt pistols +and daggers to match, the hafts of which were all studded with round +bits of coral, dark chalcedonies and blood-red carnelians. These had +been the weapons of their great-grandfathers, and they showed by +their costliness that they were no mean upstarts, dating only from +yesterday, but of a good old stock of warriors. + +Thus decked out, and not in borrowed plumes, they wended their way to +the cathedral, where a special Mass was to be said for them. Each of +them was accompanied by a kind of sponsor or best man, and followed +by all their relations, as well as by a number of friends. + +Having entered the crowded church--for such a ceremony is not often +seen--Uros and Milenko went straight to the High Altar, and, bending +down on one knee, they crossed themselves with much devotion. Then, +taking off all their weapons, they laid them down on their right-hand +side, and lighted their huge tapers. The best men, who stood +immediately behind, and the relations, lit their wax candles, just as +if it had been the ritualistic pomp of marriage; thereupon they all +knelt down till the priest had finished chanting the liturgy, and, +after offering up the Holy Sacrament, Mass came to an end. This part +of the service being over, the priest came up to them, saying: + +"Why and wherefore come ye here?" + +"We wish to become brothers." + +"And why do you wish to become brothers?" + +"Out of love," quoth Uros, who was the elder of the two by a few +months. + +"But do you know, my children, what you really ask; have you +considered that this bond is a life-long one, and that, formed here +within the House of God, it can never be broken. Are you prepared to +swear that, in whatever circumstance of life you may be placed, the +friendship that binds you to-day will never be rent asunder?" + +"We are." + +"Can you take your oath to love and help each other as brothers +should, the whole of your lifetime?" + +"We can." + +"Well, then, swear before God and man to love each other with real +brotherly affection; swear never to be at variance, never to forsake +each other." + +The oath was solemnly taken. After this the priest administered them +the Communion--though no more mixed up with a drop of their own +blood; he gave them the pax to kiss, whilst the thurible-bearers were +swinging their huge silver censers, which sent forth a cloudlet of +fragrant smoke. The two friends were almost hid from the view of the +gazing crowd, for, the _pobratim_ being rich, neither frankincense +nor myrrh had been spared. Then the priest, in his richest stole, +placed both his hands above their heads, and uttered a lengthy prayer +to God to bless them. + +The ceremony having come to an end, the _pobratim_ rose and kissed +each other repeatedly. They were then embraced by their sponsors and +relations, and congratulated by their friends. As they reached the +church door, they were greeted by the shouts of "_Zivio!_" from all +their friends, who, in sign of joy, fired off their pistols. They +replied to their courtesy in the same fashion, and so the din that +ensued was deafening. + +Holding hands, they crossed the crowd, that parted to let them pass. +Thus they both bent their steps towards Markovic's house, for, as he +lived nearer the church than Bellacic did, he was the giver of the +first feast in honour of the _pobratim_. + +Upon entering the house, the young men kissed each other again; then +forthwith Uros kissed Janko Markovic, calling him father, whilst +Milenko greeted Uros' parents in the same way. + +Afterwards presents were exchanged by the _pobratim_, then each +member of either family had some gift in store for their +newly-acquired kinsman, so that before the day was over they had +quite a little store of pipes and gold-embroidered tobacco pouches. + +Dinner being now ready, they all sat down to a copious, if not a very +dainty meal; and the priest, who just before had asked a blessing +upon the friends, was the most honoured of all the guests. + +They ate heartily, and many toasts were drunk in honour of the two +young men, and those that could made speeches in rhyme to them. + +The feast was interrupted by the _Kolo_--a young man performing +sundry evolutions with a decanter of wine upon his head, looking all +the while as clumsy as Heine's famous bear, Atta Troll. + +Then they began again to eat and drink, and filled themselves up in +such a way that they could hardly move from the table any more, so +that by the time St. Nicholas' Day came to an end, the hosts and +almost all the guests were snoring in happy oblivion. + + + + +CHAPTER III + +CHRISTMAS EVE + + +The fierce equinoctial blasts which that year had lasted for more than +a month, were followed by a fortnight of fitful, heavy rain, +intermitted by sudden gales and stormy showers. Then after a period +of dull, drizzling, foggy weather, ending in a thick squall, the +clouds cleared up beautifully, the sun showed itself again, and +Spring apparently succeeded to Autumn. + +The wind fell entirely. Not the slightest breeze was blowing to bring +down the dry leaves, or to bicker the smooth surface of the waters. +For days and days the sea remained as even as a mass of shining +melted lead, with the only difference that it was as fathomably +liquid and as diaphanously pure as the air itself, of which it even +had the vaporous cerulean clearness. Far away on the offing, the +waters blended with the watchet airiness of the surrounding +atmosphere, so that the line of the horizon could nowhere be seen, +the blueish-grey ocean melting into the greyish-blue of the sky. +Nearer the shore, the smooth translucent sheet was streaked and +spotted with those sheeny stripes and silvery patches, which Shelley +terms a "coil of crystalline streams." + +The earth itself had a fleecy look. The shadowy opal greys of the +headlands, the liquid amethystine tints of the hills, the light +irradiated coasts, all rising out of the luminous waves, looked +lovelier even than they had done in summer, at noontide, when swathed +by a splendent haziness, for now the cold opaque clay tints themselves +looked transparent, wrapped up as they were in that vaporous pellucid +veil of mists. + +Nature was wearing now her garishly gorgeous autumnal garment, and +the foliage of the trees had acquired the richest prismatic dyes, for +the reddish russets and the glowing orange yellows predominated over +the whitish blues and the faint greens. The vegetation, but for the +funereal cypresses, had the sere hectic hue of dying life. + +The seafaring people of Budua had anything but an admiration for that +calm, soft, misty weather, or for that placid, unruffled sea; not +that they lacked the sense of beauty, but they chafed at being kept +at home, when they ought already to have been in distant parts of the +Mediterranean, or even returning from the farthermost corners of the +Adriatic. + +Thus the departure of the _pobratim_ had already been postponed for +about a fortnight, as every day they waited patiently for a +favourable wind to swell their flagging sails; but the wind never +came. The friends, however, did not fret at this delay, and now, +having stayed so long, they hoped that the calm weather would +continue a little longer, so that they might spend Christmas at home +with their families. + +Radonic had sailed off some time since. Milena, after that, had gone +to spend some weeks with her parents in Montenegro. On her return, +she kept a good deal at home, for after the fright she had had on +that eventful night when she had seen Milenko all covered with blood, +she had made up her mind to give up flirting, either with Uros or +with any other young man, and, for a short time, she kept her +resolution. Moreover, she felt that she cared for the young man far +more than she liked to confess to herself, and that she thought +oftener of him than she ought to have done, and much more than was +good for the peace of her mind. Another reason now prompted her to be +seen abroad as little as possible. + +The man who, after the quarrel at the inn, had followed Radonic to +his house, and told him of his wife's levity in her conduct towards +Uros, was a certain Vranic, one of Milena's rejected suitors. He was +more than a plain-looking man; he was mean and puny. Besides this, he +had a cast in his eye, which rendered him hateful to all people, and +justly so, for does not the wisdom of our ancients say: "Beware of a +man branded by the hand of God?" Still, as if this was not enough, +Vranic possessed the gift of second sight, if it can be called a +gift. He was, therefore, a most unlucky fellow. The priest had, it +appears, made some mistake in christening him, so that nothing ever +had gone on well with him. + +Vranic had, therefore, always been not only shunned by all the girls +as an uncanny kind of man who always saw ghosts, but even all the men +avoided him. He ought to have left Budua and gone to live abroad in a +place where he was not known, but it is a hard thing for a man to +leave his own country for ever. + +Amongst many defects, Vranic had one quality, if really it can be +called a quality. This was the stern tenacity of purpose, the stolid +opiniativeness of the peasant, the stubborn firmness of the mule, the +ant and the worm, that nothing baffles, nothing turns aside. Once +bent upon doing something, it would have been as easy to keep water +from running down a hill as make him desist from his obstinacy. +He had, in fact, the inert, unreasoning will of the Slovene. + +The day after Radonic's departure, Vranic had come again to make love +to Milena. Of course, she would not listen to him, but spurned him +from her like a cur. He simply smiled, in the half-shrewd, half-apish +way in which peasants grin, and threatened to report everything she +did to her husband on his return. He told her he would poison +Radonic's ear in such a way that her life would henceforth be +anything but a pleasure. Milena answered that, as her conscience was +quite clear, she allowed him to act as he pleased. + +In the meanwhile Uros' love was getting the mastery over him. +Milena's presence haunted him day and night; it overflowed his heart +in a way that made him feel as if he were suffering from some slow, +languishing fever. Looking upon Milena's face was like gazing at the +full moon on a calm summer night; only that this planet's amber light +shed a sense of peace on the surface of the rippleless waters, whilst +this woman's beauty made his heart beat faster and his nerves tingle +with excitement. Listening to her voice reminded him of the +love-songs he had heard the _guzlari_ chant on winter evenings +--amatory poems which heated the blood like long draughts of strong +wine. His love for her had changed his very nature; instead of caring +only for fishing and shooting, unfurling the broad sails and seeing +the breeze swell the white canvas, a yearning hitherto unknown now +filled his breast. At times he even avoided his friend, and went +wandering alone, his steps--almost unwillingly--leading him to choose +places where he had met Milena, and which were still haunted by her +presence. Many a night he would roam or linger near her house, hoping +to catch a glimpse of her; but, alas! she seldom came out, and she +was never seen either at her window or her door. Her lonely cottage +looked deserted, desolate. + +On the night when the brig was expected to weigh anchor, Uros slunk +away stealthily, when the crew were fast asleep, and went on shore. +The inns were already shut, and not a light was to be seen in any +window. He, therefore, plucked up all his courage, hastened to reach +Milena's lonely house, and there, under her casement, he sang to her +the following _rastanak_, or farewell song: + + Though cold and deaf, farewell, love; + We two must part. + But can you live alone, love, + If I depart? + + From o'er the boundless sea, love, + And mountains high, + From o'er the dark, deep wood, love, + You'll hear me sigh. + + If you are deaf to me, love, + Still on the plain + You'll see the flowers fade, love, + Seared by my pain. + + Still you are deaf to me, love, + Without a tear; + I go without a word, love, + My soul to cheer. + + I send you back those blooms, love, + Which once you gave; + For they are now to me, love, + Rank as the grave. + + Amongst those cold, grey buds, love, + A snake doth lie, + As you have not for me, love, + A single sigh. + +He finished and listened, then he heard a slight noise overhead; the +window was quietly opened, and Milena's face was seen peeping between +the cranny as she held the shutters ajar, for her beautiful, lustrous +eyes sparkled in the darkness. + +"Uros!" she whispered, "how can you be so very foolish as to come and +sing under my windows! What will the people say, if they should +happen to see you?" + +"Who can hear me in this lonely spot? Everybody is asleep, not a +mouse is stirring abroad." + +"Someone or other seems always to hang about, spying all I do. For +your sake, and for mine, go away, I beg you. After the fright I had +upon that dreadful night, I have got to be such a coward." + +"No; the truth is, after that night, you never cared for me any +more." + +"I must not care for you;" then, with a sigh, and faintly: "nor must +you for me." + +"Would it make you very happy if I forgot you--if I loved someone +else?" + +She did not give him any reply. + +"You don't answer," he said. + +"You'll forget me soon enough, Uros--far from the eyes, far from the +heart." + +"And if I come back loving you more than ever?" + +"You'll be away for a long time; when you come back----" + +"Well?" + +"Perhaps I'll be dead." + +"Don't say such things, Milena, or you'll drive me mad." + +Then, with cat-like agility, he climbed the low wall, and, with hands +clutching at the window-sill, and the tips of his _opanke_, or +sandal-like shoes, resting on some stones jutting out, he stood at +the height of her head. His other arm soon found itself resting round +her unresisting neck. He lifted up his mouth towards hers, and their +pouting lips met in a long, lingering kiss. + +But all at once she shivered from head to foot, and, drawing herself +away, she begged Uros to have pity on her and to go away. + +"Milena, it is perhaps the last time we meet; more than one ship +never came back to the port from which it sailed; more than one +sailor never saw his birth-place again." + +"But, only think, if some one passing by should see us here." + +"Well, then, let me come in, so nobody'll see me." + +"Uros, are you mad? Allow you to come in at this hour of the night!" + +"What greater harm would there be than in the broad daylight?" + +"No; if you really love me, don't ask me such a thing." + +Uros obeyed, and, after a few minutes, with the tears gushing to his +eyes, he bade her good-bye. As he was sliding down, he thought he +heard a noise of footsteps on the shingle of the pathway near the +house. Uros shuddered and listened. Was it some man lurking there, he +asked himself. If so, who could it be? Radonic had, perhaps, come +back to Budua to keep watch over his wife--catch her on the hop, and +then revenge himself upon her. The sudden fright now curdled his +blood. Still, he was not afraid for himself; he was young and strong, +and he was on his guard. Even if it was the incensed husband, the +night was too dark for anyone to take a good aim and fire from a +distance. If he was afraid, it was for Milena's sake. Radonic had, +perhaps, returned; he had seen him climb down from his own house at +that late hour. Rash as he was, he would surely go and kill his wife, +who, even if she was a flirt, was by no means as bad as what he or +the world would think her to be. + +"Anyhow," said Uros to himself, "if it is Radonic, he will either +rush at me, or fire at me from where he is hiding; or else he will go +towards his own house." His suspense would only last a few seconds. + +It lasted much longer. Many minutes passed, if he could reckon time +by the beating of his heart. In the meanwhile he tried to fathom the +darkness from whence the slight sound had come. Not being able to see +or hear anything, he went off, walking on tip-toe; but he listened +intently as he went. All at once there was again a slight rustling +sound. Uros walked on for a while, then, stepping on the grass and +crouching between the bushes, slowly and stealthily he came back near +the house and waited. Not many minutes had elapsed when he heard the +noise of footsteps once more, but he saw nobody. + +Oh! how his heart did beat just then! The sound of steps was +distinctly heard upon the shingle, and yet no human being, no living +creature, was to be seen. What could this be? + +"_Bogme ovari!_--God protect me"--he said to himself, "it is, +perhaps, a ghost, a vampire!" + +Darkness in itself is repellent to our nature; therefore, to be +assaulted at night, by any unseen foe, must daunt the bravest amongst +the brave. + +It is, then, not to be wondered that Uros was appalled at the idea of +having to become the prey of an invisible, intangible ghost, against +which it was impossible to struggle. He waited for a while, +motionless, breathless. There was not the slightest noise, nothing +was stirring any more; but in the dusky twilight everything seemed to +assume strange and weird shapes--the gnarled branches of the olive +trees looked like stunted and distorted limbs, whilst the bushes +seemed to stretch forth long waving tentacles, with which to grasp +the passer-by. As he looked about, he saw a light appear at a +distance, flit about for a while, extinguish itself, reappear again +after some time, then go out as before. Then he heard the barking of +a dog; the sound came nearer, then it lost itself in the stillness of +the night. + +Uros, horror-stricken, was about to take to his heels, when again he +heard the footsteps on the shingle. He, therefore, stood stock-still +and waited, with a heart ready to burst. He could not leave Milena to +the danger that threatened her, so he chose to remain and fall into +the clutches of a vampire. He listened; the steps, though muffled, +were those of a rather heavy man. The sound continued, slowly, +stealthily, distinctly. Uros looked towards the place from whence the +noise came, and thereupon he saw a man creep out from within the +darkness of the bushes and go up towards Radonic's house. + +Uros, seeing a human figure, felt all his superstitious fears vanish; +he looked well at it to convince himself that it was not some +deceptive vision, some skin all bloated with blood, as vampires are. +No, it was a man. Still, who could it be, he was too short and puny +to be Radonic? + +Who could this man be, going to Milena's in the middle of the night? + +A bitter feeling of jealousy came over him, a steel hand seemed to +grasp his heart. Milena had just been flirting with him, could she +not do the same with another man. She had listened to his vows of +love, he had been a fool to go off when she begged him to remember +that she was another man's wife. At that moment he hated her, and he +was vexed with himself. + +There are moments in life when we repent having been too good, for +goodness sometimes is but a sign of weakness and inexperience; it +only shows our unfitness for the great struggle of life, where the +weak go to the wall. + +During the time that Radonic had been at home he had never felt the +bitter pangs of jealousy as much as he did now. It humbled him to +think that he had left his place to another more fortunate rival, +apparently an older man. + +Then he asked himself how he could have been so foolish as to love a +married woman. + +"After all," said he to himself, "it is but right that I should +suffer, why have I lifted up my eyes upon a woman who has sworn to +love another man?" + +He had sinned, and he was now punished for his crime. + +When flushed with success the voice of conscience had ever been mute, +but now, when disappointment was sinking his heart, that voice cried +out loudly to him. Conscience is but a coward at best, a sneak in +prosperity, a bully in our misfortune. + +There in the darkness of the night, lifting his eyes up towards +heaven, he called upon the blessed Virgin to come to his help. + +"Oh! immaculate mother of Christ our Saviour, grant me the favour of +seeing that this man is no fortunate rival, that he is not Milena's +lover, and henceforth I shall never lift up my eyes towards her, even +if I should have to crush my heart, I shall never harbour in it any +other feeling for her except that of a brother or a friend." + +During this time the man had gone up to the cottage door. Almost +unthinkingly and with the words of the prayer upon his lips, Uros +stood up, went a step onwards, and then he stopped. The man now +tapped at the door. A pause followed. The man knocked again a little +louder. Thereupon Milena's voice was heard from within. Though Uros +was much too far to hear what she had said, he evidently understood +that she was asking who was outside; the young man, treading on the +grass as much as he could, stole on tip-toe a little nearer the +house. + +He could not catch the answer the man had given, for it was in a low +muffled undertone. + +"Who are you?" repeated Milena from inside, "and what do you want?" + +"It is I, Uros," said the man in a muffled tone; "open your door, my +love." + +"Liar," shouted Uros from behind, and with a bound he had jumped upon +the man and, gripping him by the nape of the neck and by the collar +of his _jacerma_, he tugged at him and dragged him away from the +door. + +As the man struggled to free himself, Uros recognised him to be +Vranic--Vranic the ghost-seer, Vranic the spy. + +"How dare you come here in my name, you scoundrel," said the young +man, and giving him a mighty shake, that tore the strong cloth of the +jacket, he cast him away. + +"And pray what are you doing here at this time of the night?" asked +Vranic, his hand on the haft of his knife. + +"And what is that to you--are you her husband or her kinsman? But as +you wish to know, I'll tell you; I came to protect her from a +dastardly coward like yourself." + +"I doubt whether Radonic will be glad to hear that you go sneaking +into his house at the dead of night, just to keep his wife from any +harm; that is really good of you." And Vranic, standing aloof, burst +out laughing. Then he added, "Anyhow, he'll be most grateful to you +when he knows it." + +"And who'll tell him?" + +"I shall." + +"If I let you, you spy." + +Thereupon Uros rushed upon Vranic so unexpectedly, that the latter +lost his balance, slipped and fell. The younger man held him down +with one hand, and with the other he lifted up his dagger. Seeing +himself thus overpowered: + +"What, are you going to murder me like that?" he gasped out, "do you +not see that I was joking? If you'll but let me go I'll swear not to +say a word about the matter to anyone." + +"On what will you swear?" + +"On anything you like, on the holy medals round my neck." + +With a jerk that almost choked the man, Uros broke the string and +snatched the amulets from Vranic's neck, and presented them to him, +saying: + +"Now, man, swear." + +Vranic took his oath. + +"Now," said Uros, "swear not to harm Milena while I am away, swear +not to worry her by your threats, or in any other way soever." + +Vranic having sworn again, was left free to get up and go off. + +When he was at a few paces from Uros he stopped, and with a scowl +upon his face he muttered: + +"Those medals were not blessed, so you can use your dagger now, if +you like, and I shall use my tongue, we shall see which of us two +will suffer most; anyhow, remember the proverb, 'Where the goat +breathes, even the vine withers.'" + +Then, stooping down, he gathered a handful of stones and flung them +with all his might at Uros, after which he took to his heels and ran +off with all his might. + +The stones went hissing by Uros, but one of them caught him on his +brow, grazing off the skin and covering his eyes with blood. Uros, +blinded by the stone, remained standing for a while, and then, seeing +that Vranic had run off, he went up to Milena's door and tapped +lightly. + +"Milena," said he, "have you heard the quarrel I have had with +Vranic?" + +"Yes, did he hurt you?" + +"Only a mere scratch." + +"Nothing more?" + +"No." + +"Surely?" + +"No, indeed!" + +Milena would willingly have opened the door to see if Uros was only +scratched, but she was in too great a trepidation to do so. + +"Well," added she, "if you are not hurt, please go away." + +"But are you not afraid Vranic might come back?" + +"Well, and if he does? He'll find the door shut as before. Moreover, +I'm by no means afraid of him, he is the greatest coward, or at least +the only coward, of the town; therefore do not stay here on my +account, you can do me no good." + +"Then you do not want me?" said Uros, in a lingering way, and with a +sigh. + +"No; go," quoth she. "If you love me, go." + +Uros turned his back on the cottage and wended his steps homewards. +The moon was now rising above the hills in the distance. Milena went +to the window and looked at the young man going off. Her heart +yearned after him as he went, and she fain would have called him +back. + +Poor fellow, he had fought for her, he was wounded, and now she let +him go off like that. It was not right. Was his wound but a scratch? +She ought to have seen after it. It was very ungrateful of her not to +have looked after it. + +All at once Uros stopped. Her heart began to beat. He turned round +and came back on his steps. At first she was delighted, then she was +disappointed. She wished he had not turned back. + +He walked back slowly and stealthily, trying to muffle his steps. + +What was he going to do? + +Milena ran to the door and put her ear close to the key-hole. + +She heard Uros come up to the very sill and then it seemed to her +that he had sat or crouched upon the step. + +Was he hurt? Was he going to stay there and watch over the house like +a faithful dog? + +She waited a while; not the slightest sound was heard; she could +hardly keep still. At last, unable to bear it any longer: + +"Uros," said she, "is that you?" + +"Yes." + +"And what are you doing there?" + +"I was going to watch over you." + +Overcome by this proof of the young man's love, Milena slowly opened +the door, and taking Uros by both his hands she made him come in. + +The wind did not rise and the brigantine rode still at anchor in the +bay. The days passed, and at last merry Christmas was drawing near. +The _pobratim_--though anxious to be off--hoped that the calm weather +would last for a week longer, that they might pass the +_badnji-vecer_--or the evening of the log--and Christmas Day with +their parents. + +Their wishes were granted; one day passed after the other and the +weather was always most beautiful. Not the slightest cloud came +either to dim or enhance the limpid blue sky, and though the mornings +were now rather fresh, the days were, as yet, delightfully warm and +radiant with sunshine. In the gardens the oleanders were all in full +bloom, so were also the roses, the geraniums and the China asters; +whilst in the field many a daisy was seen glinting at the modest +speedwell, and the Dalmatian convolvulus entwined itself lovingly +around the haughty acanthus, which spread out their fretted leaves to +the sun, taking up as much space as well they could, while in damp +places the tall, feathery grasses grew amidst the sedges, the reeds, +and the rushes and all kinds of rank weeds of glowing hues. Not a +breath of wind came to ripple the surface of the shining blue waters. + +On the 24th a little cloud was seen far off, the colour of the waters +grew by degrees of a dull leaden tint, and the wind began to moan. In +the meanwhile the cloudlet that had been the size of a weasel grew to +be as big as a camel, then it swelled out into the likeness of some +huge megatherium, it rolled out its massy coils and overspread the +whole space of the sky. Then the clouds began to lower, and seemed to +cover the earth with a ponderous lid. The wind and the cold having +increased, the summer all at once passed away into dreary and bleak +winter. + +Christmas was to be kept at Milos Bellacic's house, for though the +two families had always been on the most friendly terms, they, since +the day upon which the two young men had become _pobratim_, got to be +almost one family. Some other friends had been asked to come and make +merry with them on that evening. Amongst other guests Zwillievic, +Milena's father, who was a cousin of Bellacic's, having come with his +wife to spend the Christmas holidays at Budua, had accepted his +kinsman's hospitality. Milena had also been asked to come and pass +those days merrily with her parents. + +At nightfall, all the guests being already assembled, the yule-log, +the huge bole of an olive tree, was, with great ado, brought to the +house. Bellacic, standing on the threshold with his cap in his hand, +said to it: + +"Welcome log, and may God watch over you." + +Then, taking the _bucara_ or wooden bottle, he began to sprinkle it +with wine, forming a cross as he did so, then he threw some wheat +upon it, calling a blessing upon his house, and upon all his guests, +who stood grouped behind him, after which all the guests answered in +chorus, "And so be it." Thereupon all the men standing outside the +house fired off their guns and pistols to show their joy, shouting: +"May Christmas be welcome to you." + +After this Uros brought in his own log and the same ceremony had once +more to be gone through. + +The logs were then festively placed upon the hearth, where they had +to burn the whole night, and even till the next morning. + +In the meantime a copious supper was prepared and set upon the table. +In the very midst, taking the place of an _epergne_, there was a +large loaf, all trimmed up with ivy and evergreens, and in the centre +of this loaf there were thrust three wax candles carefully twisted +into one, so as to form a taper, which was lit in honour of the Holy +Trinity. Christmas Eve being a fast day, the meal consisted of fish +cooked in different ways. + +First, there was a pillau with scallops, then cod--which is always +looked upon as the staple fare of evening--after which followed +pickled tunny, eels, and so forth. The _starescina_, taking a +mouthful of every dish that was brought upon the table, went to throw +it upon the burning log, so that it might bring him a prosperous +year; his son then followed his example. + +After all had eaten and were filled, they gathered around the hearth +and squatted down upon the straw with which the floor was strewn +--for, in honour of Christ, the room had been made to look as much as +possible like a manger, or a stable. They again greeted each other +with the usual compliments, "for many years," and so forth, and black +coffee was served in Turkish fashion, that is, in tiny cups, held by +a kind of silver, or silvered metal, egg-cup instead of a saucer. +Most everyone loosened his girdle, some took off their shoes, and all +made themselves comfortable for the night. Thereupon Milenko, who was +somewhat of a bard and who had studied an epic song for the +occasion, one of those heroic and wild _junaske_, took his _guzla_, +and gave the company the story of "Marko Kraglievic and the Moor of +Primoryé," as follows:-- + + +KRAGLIEVIC MARKO I CRNI ARAPIN. + + An Arab lord had once in Primoryé, + A mighty castle by the spray-swept shore; + Its many lofty halls were bright and gay, + And Moorish lads stood watching at each door. + Albeit its wealth, mirth never echoed there; + Its lord was prone to be of pensive mood, + And oft his frown would freeze the very air; + On secret sorrow he e'er seemed to brood. + At times to all his _svati_ would he say: + "What do I care for all this wide domain, + Or for my guards on steeds in bright array? + Much more than dazzling pomp my heart would fain + Have some fond tie so that the time might seem + Less tedious in its flight. I am alone. + A mother's heart, a sister's, or, I deem, + A bride's would be far more than all I own." + Thus unto him his liegemen made reply: + "O, mighty lord! they say that Russia's Czar + Has for his heir, a daughter meek and shy, + Of beauty rare, just like the sparkling star + That gleams at dawn and shines at eventide. + Now, master, we do wait for thy behest. + Does thy heart crave to have this maid for bride? + Say, shall we sally forth unto her quest?" + The master mused a while, then answered: "Aye, + By Allah! fetch this Russian for my mate! + Tell her she'll be the dame of Primoryé, + The mistress of my heart and my estate. + But stop.--If Russia should not grant his child, + Then tell him I shall kill his puny knights, + And waste his lands. Say that my love is wild, + Hot as the Lybian sun, deep as the night!" + Now, after riding twenty days and more, + The _svati_ reached at last their journey's end, + Then straightway to the Russian King they bore + Such letters as their lord himself had penned. + The great Czar having read the Moor's demand, + And made it known to all his lords at Court, + Could, for a while, but hardly understand + This strange request; he deemed it was in sport. + A blackamoor to wed his daughter fair! + "I had as lief," said he, "the meanest lad + Of my domains as son-in-law and heir, + Than this grim Moor, who must in sooth be mad." + But soon his wrath was all changed into grief, + On learning to his dread and his dismay, + That not a knight would stir to his relief, + No one would fight the Moor of Primoryé! + Howe'er the Queen upon that very night + Did dream a dream. Within Prilipù town, + Beyond the Balkan mounts, she saw a knight, + Whose mighty deeds had won him great renown. + (Kraglievic Marko was the hero's name); + His flashing sword was always seen with awe + By faithless Turks, who dreaded his great fame; + And in her dream that night the Queen then saw + This mighty Serb come forth to save her child. + Then did the Czarin to her lord relate + The vision which her senses had beguiled, + And both upon it long did meditate. + Upon the morrow, then, the Czar did write + To Marko, asking him to come and slay + This haughty Moor, as not a Russian knight + Would deign to fight the lord of Primoryé. + As meed he promised him three asses stout, + Each laden with a sack of coins of gold. + As soon as Marko read this note throughout, + These words alone the messenger he told: + "What if this Arab killed me in the strife, + And from my shoulders he do smite my head. + Will golden ducats bring me back to life? + What do I care for gold when I am dead?" + The herald to the King this answer bore. + Thereon the Queen wrote for her daughter's sake: + "Great Marko, I will give thee three bags more, + Six bags in all, if you but undertake + To free my daughter from such heinous fate, + As that of having to become the bride + Of such a man as that vile renegade." + To Prilipù the messenger did ride, + But Marko gave again the same reply. + The Czar then summoned forth his child to him: + "Now 'tis thy turn," said he; "just write and try + To get the Serb to kill this man whose whim + Is to have thee for wife." The maid thus wrote: + "O Marko, brother mine, do come at once. + I beg you for the love that you devote + To God and to St. John, come for the nonce + To free me from the Moor of Primoryé. + Seven sacks of gold I'll give you for this deed, + And, if I can this debt of mine repay, + A shirt all wrought in gold will be your meed. + Moreover, you shall have my father's sword; + And as a pledge thereon the King's great seal, + Which doth convey to all that Russia's lord + Doth order and decree that none shall deal + Its bearer harm; no man shall ever slay + You in his wide domains. Come, then, with speed + To free me from the lord of Primoryé." + To Prilipù the herald did proceed + With all due haste; he rode by day and night, + Through streams and meads, through many a bushy dell; + At last at Marko's door he did alight. + When Marko read the note, he answered: "Well--" + Then mused a while, then bade the young page go. + But said the youth: "What answer shall I give?" + "Just say I answered neither yes nor no." + The Princess saw that she would ne'er outlive + Her dreadful doom, and walking on the strand, + There, 'midst her sobs, she said: "O thou deep sea, + Receive me in thy womb, lest the curst brand + Of being this man's wife be stamped on me." + Just when about to plunge she lifts her eyes, + And lo! far off, a knight upon a steed, + Armed cap-à -pie, advancing on, she spies. + "Why weepest thou, O maid? tell me thy need, + And if my sword can be of any use . . ." + "Thanks, gentle sir. Alas! one knight alone + Can wield his brand for me; but he eschews + To fight." + "A coward, then, is he." + "'Tis known + That he is brave." + "His name?" + "He did enrich + The soil with Turkish blood at Cossovo. + You sure have heard of Marko Kraglievic." + Thereon he kissed her hand and answered low: + "Well, I am he; and I come for your sake. + Go, tell the Czar to give thee as a bride + Unto the Moor; then merry shall we make + In some _mehan_, and there I shall abide + The coming of the lord of Primoryé." + The Princess straightway told the Czar, and he + At once gave orders that they should obey + All that the Serb might bid, whate'er it be. + That night with all his men the Arab came-- + Five hundred liegemen, all on prancing steeds; + The Czar did welcome them as it became + Men high in rank, and of exalted deeds. + Then, after that, they all went to the inn. + "Ah!" said the Moor, as they were on their way, + "How all are scared, and shut themselves within + Their homes; all fear the men of Primoryé." + But, as they reached the door of the _mehan_, + The Arab, on his horse, would cross the gate, + When, on the very sill, he saw a man + Upon a steed. This sight seemed to amate + The Arab lord. But still he said: "Stand off! + And let me pass." + "For you, this is no place, + Miscreant heathen dog!" + At such a scoff + Each angry liegeman lifted up his mace. + Thereon 'twixt them and him ensued a fight, + Where Marko dealt such blows that all around + The din was heard, like thunder in the night. + He hacked and hewed them down, until a mound + Of corpses lay amid a pool of blood, + For trickling from each fearful gash it streamed, + And wet the grass, and turned the earth in mud + Of gore; whilst all this time each falchion gleamed, + For Marko's sword was ruthless in the fray, + And when it fell, there all was cleaved in twain; + No coat of mail such strokes as his could stay, + Nor either did he stop to ascertain + If all the blood that trickled down each limb + Was but that of the foe and not his own. + And thus he fought, until the day grew dim, + And thus he fought, and thus he stood alone + Against them all; till one by one they fell, + As doth the corn before the reaper's scythe, + Whilst their own curses were their only knell! + The Serb, howe'er, was still both strong and lithe, + When all the swarthy Arabs round him lay. + "Now 'tis thy time to die, miscreant knight!" + He called unto the Moor of Primoryé. + With golden daggers they began to fight; + They thrust and parried both with might and main; + But soon the Arab sank to writhe in pain. + Then Marko forthwith over him did bend + To stab him through the heart. Then off he took + His head, on which he threw a light cymar + (For 'twas, indeed, a sight that few could brook): + Thus covered up, he took it to the Czar. + Then Marko got the Princess for his wife-- + Besides the gold that was to be his meed, + And from that day most happy was his life, + Known far and wide for many a knightly deed. + + +The merry evening came to an end; in the meanwhile the weather had +undergone another transformation. The cold having set in, the thin +sleet had all at once changed into snow. The tiny patches of ice and +the little droplets of rain had swelled out into large fleecy flakes, +which kept fluttering about hither and thither, helter-skelter, +before they came down to the ground; they seemed, indeed, to be +chasing one another all the time, with the grace of spring +butterflies. Even when the flakes did fall it was not always for +long, for the wind, creeping slily along the earth, often lifted them +up and drove them far away, whirling them into eddies, till at last +they were allowed to settle down in heaps, blocking up doors and +windows; or else, flying away, they ensconced themselves in every +nook and corner, in every chink and cranny. + +That evening, when the good Christians went to church to hear the +oft-repeated tidings of great joy, uttered by the _vladika_, or +priest, in the sacramental words: _Mir Bogig, Christos se rodè_, or +"The peace of God be with you, Christ is born"; and when, after +midnight, they returned home, while huge logs were blazing on every +hearth, they hardly knew again either the town or its neighbourhood, +all wrapped up in a mantle of dazzling whiteness; the sight was a +rather unusual one, for the inhabitants of Budua had seen snow but +very seldom. + +The whole Christmas Day was spent very pleasantly in going about from +house to house, wishing everyone joy and happiness, or receiving +friends at home and drinking bumpers to their health. It was, indeed, +a merry, forgiving time, when the hearts of men were full of +kindness and good-will, and peace reigned upon earth. + +There were, indeed, some exceptions to the general rule of +benevolence, for, now and then, some man, even upon that hallowed +day, bore within his breast but a clay-cold heart, in which grudge, +envy and malice still rankled, and the Christmas greetings, wheezed +through thin lips, had but a chilling and hollow sound. + +The very first person who came to Bellacic's house early on Christmas +morning was Vranic, the spy. It was not out of love that he came. He +had been sneaking about the house, casting long, prying glances from +beneath the hood of his _kabanica_, or great-coat, trying to find out +whether Milena were there, for he knew that she had not passed the +night in her own house. + +All at once, whilst he was sneaking about, he was met by several +young men, bent on their Christmas rounds of visits; they took him +along with them, and, though quite against himself, he was the first +to put his foot in Bellacic's house upon that day. + +According to the Slav custom, he was asked, after the usual +greetings, to tap the yule log with his stick. He at once complied, +with as much good grace as he could muster, uttering the well-known +phrase: + +"May you have as many horses, cows, and sheep as the _badnjak_ has +given you sparks." + +Knowing that while he was saying these words every member of the +family, and every guest gathered together around him, would hang upon +his looks, trying to read in his face whether the forthcoming year +would be a prosperous one, for the expression of the features, as +well as the way in which these words are uttered, are reckoned to be +sure omens, Vranic, therefore, tried to put on a pleasant look and a +good-natured appearance, but this was so alien to his nature that he +was by no means sure of success. + +Uros and Milena had, however, stood aloof; they had understood that +the prediction must be unfavourable, and, though they did not look +up, they heard that the voice, which was meant to be soft and oily, +was bitter, hard and grating. + +A gloom had come over the house just then; it seemed as if that man +of ill-omen had stepped in to damp everyone's joy. + +Uros remained stock-still, and though his fingers instinctively +grasped the handle of his knife, still he was too much of a Slav to +harm a guest in his own house. As for Milenko, not having any reasons +for being so forbearing, he was about to thrust the fiend out of his +adopted parents' house, when Vranic, drawing back from the hearth, +caught his foot on the fag end of a log, and, not to fall, stepped +over it. This was the remainder of that log which Uros had himself +put upon the fire, and, according to the traditional custom, it had +been taken away from the hearth before it had been quite consumed, +for it was to be kept, as the fire on New Year's Eve was to be +kindled with it. Vranic hardly noticed what he had done, but everyone +present looked stealthily at one another, and quietly crossed +themselves. Vranic, they knew, had come with evil thoughts in his +head, but now he had only brought harm upon himself, for it is well +known that whoever steps over a _badnjak_ is doomed to die within the +year. + +The seer went off soon after this, and then, when the other +well-wishers came, the gloom that he had left behind him was +dispelled, and the remainder of the Christmas Day was spent in mirth +and jollity. + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +NEW YEAR'S DAY + + +On the last day of the year the _pobratim_ were sailing on the waters +of the Adriatic not far from the island of Lissa, now famed in +history for its naval wars. Soon the sun went down behind a huge mass +of grey clouds, and night set in when the vessel was about to sail +amidst that maze of inlets, straits, channels and friths, which +characterise all that part of the Dalmatian coast. But, though the +night was dark and wild, their schooner was strong and stout, and +accustomed to weather such heavy seas. + +A head-wind arose, which first began to shiver amidst the rigging +like a human being sick of a fever; then it changed into a slight +wailing sound, so that it seemed at times the voice of a suffering +child tossing about in its cot unable to find rest. The wind +increased, and the sound changed into a howl like the rage of untamed +beasts; it was a horrible concert, where serpents hissed, wild cats +mewed and lions roared in and out of time and tune; but not without a +strange, weird, uncouth harmony. It was the voice of the storm. Great +Adamastor, the genius of the foul weather, baffled at not being able +to snap all the ropes asunder and break down the straining masts, was +yelling with impotent rage. He was, withal, a cunning old man and +knew more than one trick, for, after holding his breath for a while, +he would whisper no louder than a mother does when her babe is +asleep, and then again, he would begin to snicker slily in a low, +snorting way, until, all at once, he broke loose into loud fits of +fiendish, hoarse merriment. + +Added to this head-wind, a heavy sea rolled its huge waves against +the prow of the ship and dashed the spray of its breakers up its very +sails; then the strong rain would come down in showers at every gust +of wind. The elements seemed, indeed, bent upon overwhelming the poor +craft groaning at this ill-treatment. + +Eleven o'clock having just struck, Uros went below and Milenko got +ready to take up his watch. + +Poor Uros! he was not only weary and wet to the skin--for his huge +_kabanica_, or overcoat, had been of little avail against the pelting +rain--but, worse than that, for the first time in his life he felt +home-sick and love-sick. He remembered the pleasant Christmas Eve, +the last night but one which he had passed at home. Whilst the wind +howled and the waves rolled high he recalled to mind the many +incidents of that evening, which had been for him the happiest of his +life, and there, in the darkness of the night, Milena's bright and +laughing eyes were always twinkling before him. Her sweet looks, +which he had drunk down like intoxicating wine, had maddened his +brain. + +Hitherto Uros had been passionately fond of the sea, and his great +ambition was to be one day the master of a ship. Now that his dream +seemed about to be realised even beyond his wildest ambition--for the +brig was really a fine ship--his heart was far behind on shore, and +the sea had lost its charm. That night especially he wished he could +have been back by his own fireside watching the remainder of the +yule-logs as they burnt away into cinders. + +When Uros came down, the captain brought out a bottle of some rare +old genuine cognac, which on some former voyage he himself had got at +Bordeaux. Punch was made, Milenko was called down and toasts were +drunk to the health of the absent ones, songs were sung about the +pleasantness of a life upon the wide, wide sea; but the voice of the +waves seemed to jeer them, and then the captain fell a-thinking that +he was growing of an age when it was far more agreeable to remain +amidst his little brood at home. As for poor Uros, he thought of the +woman who lived in a lonely cottage, and he wondered whether harm +might not befal her, now that he was no more there to watch over her. +He thought that, after all, it was useless to go roaming about the +world when he might remain at home tilling his father's fields. +Milenko alone was of a cheerful mood; perhaps it was because he +thought less of himself and more of those around him. + +Milenko came and went up and down like a squirrel, keeping his watch +and trying to cheer his friend. Still, each time he went up and +looked about, he found that the wind was stronger and the waves +rolled higher. Meanwhile the captain, roused to a sense of duty, +tried to enliven the passing hours by telling old tales, comical +adventures, and strange sea legends. + +Soon the storm increased apace, and Milenko had to remain on deck; +but Uros, being tired and sleepy, was about to betake himself to +rest. Midnight had just struck, and the hands of the clock were on +twelve, a last cup was drained, and the three seamen having thus seen +the old year out and the new year in, separated and each one went his +own way. The clock withal was rather fast, and it was only some +moments after they had separated from one another that the old year +breathed its last. + +Before going to rest, Uros, who had slightly bruised his forehead +just where Vranic had cut him with the stone, went to his chest and +took out of it a small round tin looking-glass and opened it. He +wished to see what kind of a scratch it had left, and if the scar +were healing. He had scarcely cast his eyes upon it when, to his +great surprise, lo, and behold! far from seeing his own face in the +glass, Vranic's likeness was there, staring upon him with his usual +leer! + +Uros was startled at this sight; then, for a while he stood as if +transfixed, gloating on the image within the glass, unable to turn +away his eyes from it. Then, appalled as he was, he almost dropped +the looking-glass he was holding. + +All at once remembering that it was midnight--the moment when the old +year passes into oblivion and the new one rises from chaos--his hand +fell, and he stood for a while, pale, shuddering, and staring upon +vacancy. But--recalled to himself--he endeavoured to retrace the long +string of thoughts that had flitted through his brain, since he had +left the captain and Milenko up to the moment that he had looked upon +the glass, and Vranic was not amongst them. His brain had been +rather muddled by sleepiness and brandy, and he had hardly been +thinking about anything. + +Having lifted up the glass to the height of his face, he for a moment +held his head averted, for he had really not the courage to look upon +it. + +After a while he shrugged his shoulders, muttering to himself: "I +have always been thinking of Milena, and of the last days I passed at +home, so that now this man's face--such as I had seen it on Christmas +morning--has been impressively recalled to my mind. It must be this +and nothing more." + +Still, the moment when he tried again to look upon the glass, a vague +terror came over him, and all his courage passed away; it was just as +if he were looking upon some unhallowed thing, as if he were +indulging in witchcraft. But curiosity prevailed once more, and as he +did so, a trepidation came all over his limbs. This time he was +surely not mistaken; it was no vision of his overheated fancy, seen +with his mind's eye; sleepiness and the effect of the brandy had +quite passed away, and still the glass--instead of reflecting his own +features--was the living portrait of the man he hated. There he was, +with his low forehead, his livid complexion, his pale greyish-green +eyes, his high cheekbones and his flat nose. + +He was almost impelled to dash down the glass and break it into +pieces, but still he durst not do it; a superstitious fear stopped +him; it was, as we all know, so very unlucky to break a +looking-glass by accident, but to break it of his own free will must +be far worse. + +He now kept his eyes riveted upon the tiny mirror, and then he saw +Vranic's face slightly fade and then vanish away; then the glass for +a few seconds grew dim as if a damp breath had passed upon it; then +the dimness disappeared little by little, the glass again grew clear +and reflected his own pale face, with his eyes wildly opened, +glistening with a wild, feverish look. Now, he was not mistaken; +Vranic was not to see another year! + +Uros had often heard it said that, if a young unmarried man looks by +chance in a looking-glass at the stroke of twelve, just when the old +year is dying out, he will perhaps see, either the woman he is to +marry in the course of the year, Death, or a man of his acquaintance +doomed to die within the year. He had never tried it, because it is a +thing that has to be done by chance, and even then the mirror does +not always foretell the future. Now, the thing happened so naturally, +in such an unforeseen, unpremeditated way, that there was no +possibility of a doubt. Vranic, then, was doomed to die. + +A week before, his death had been predicted the moment when he +stumbled and slipped over the stump of the yule-log--aye, it was his +own log--now again his enemy's death was foretold to him. + +As he stood there with his glass in his hand, a thought struck him, +and in answer to this, he lifted his eyes upwards and begged his +patron saint to keep his hands clean, and not to make him the +instrument of his enemy's death. + +"He is a villain," muttered he to himself, "and he fully deserves a +thousand deaths; but let him not die by my hand. If he dies of a +violent death, let me not be his executioner." + +Uros stood there for some time as if bewildered and very much like a +man who had seen a ghost, afraid to look round lest he should see +Vranic's face gloating upon him; then shuddering, he ran upstairs to +tell his adoptive brother all that had happened, and the strange +vision he had seen. + +When Uros went up on deck, he found that the wind had greatly +increased, and that from a cap-full, as it had been in the beginning, +it had grown into a hurricane. The sky was even darker than before; +the waves, swollen into huge breakers, dashed against the prow of the +ship, making her stagger and reel as if she had been stunned by those +mighty blows. + +The captain had now taken command of the ship, for all that part of +the Adriatic up to the Quarnero, with its archipelago of islands, its +numerous straits, its friths and rock-bound inlets, where the +mountains of the mainland--sloping down to the water's edge--end in +long ledges and chasms all interspersed with sharp ridges, rocks and +sunken reefs, through which the ships have often to wind carefully in +and out, is like a perilous maze. The navigation of these parts, +difficult enough in the day-time by fair weather, is more than +dangerous on a dark and stormy night. + +The ship, according to all calculation, had passed the Punta della +Planca, and was not very far from the port of Sebenico. It was +useless to try and take shelter there, for the town is most difficult +of access, especially during contrary winds. + +All that night the whole crew were on deck obeying the captain's +orders, for it was as much as they could do to manage the ship, at +war with all the elements; besides, as she rode forecastle in, she +had shipped several seas, so that, deeply-laden as she was, she +wallowed heavily about, and looked every moment as if she were ready +to founder. + +The storm had now risen to the highest pitch, and the captain, who, +as it has been said, was an elderly man, as well as an experienced +sailor, acknowledged that he scarcely remembered a more fearful gale +in the whole of his lifetime. All waited eagerly for the first +streaks of dawn; for a tempest, though frightful in broad daylight, +is always more appalling in the dead of the night. They waited a long +time, for it seemed as if darkness had set for ever over this world. + +At last a faint grey, glimmering light appeared in the east; then, by +degrees, towards daybreak, the waters overhead, and the waters +underneath, had a gloomy, greyish hue. Light spread itself far and +wide, but the storm did not abate. + +Milenko, with his spy-glass in his hand, was searching through the +veil of mist that surrounded the ship, for some island in the offing, +when, all at once, he thought he could perceive a dark speck not very +far off. This object, apparently cradled by the waters, was so dimly +seen that he could not even guess what it was; but after keeping his +eyes steadily upon it, he saw, or rather, he thought he saw, the hull +or wreck of a ship, or a buoy. No, surely it could not be a buoy +floating there in the midst of the waters. Was it not, perhaps, some +foam-covered rock against which the waves were dashing? His eyes were +rooted upon it for some time, and then he was certain that it was not +a rock, for it moved, nay, it seemed to float about. He pondered for +a while. Could it not be, he thought, the head of one of those huge +sea-snakes, upon which ships, having sometimes cast their anchors, +are dragged down into the fathomless abysses of the deep, there to +become the prey of this horrible monster? It was really too far off +for him to understand what it was. + +He waited for some time, then he strained his eyes, and he saw that +it could be nothing but a boat. He called Uros to him, but his +friend's sight being less keen than his own, he could make nothing of +it. The captain, having come to them, could not distinguish the +floating object at all. As they steered onwards, they came nearer to +it, and then they found out that it was indeed the hull of a caique +or galley-boat, which, having lost its masts and rudder, was tossed +about at the mercy of the breakers, that always seemed ready to +swallow it up. The crew on board were making signs of distress, but +it was a rather difficult task to lend a helping hand to that crazy +ship. It was impossible, with that heavy sea, for the brig to go +alongside of her, or to lie near enough for her crew to manage to get +on board. Nay, it was very dangerous for the brig to attempt going +anywhere near the caique, for the consequences might have been +disastrous if the wreck were thrown against her, as the stronger one +of the two would thus have dashed the weaker vessel to pieces. + +In this predicament Milenko volunteered to go in a little boat, if +any two men would go with him. At first all refused, but when Uros +said that he was ready to share his friend's fate, another sailor +came forth to lend a helping hand in rescuing those lives in fearful +jeopardy. + +The _pobratim_ having skilfully managed to get near enough to the +caique, so as to be understood, they called out to the captain to +throw them a rope overboard. This was done, but the hawser, without a +buoy, could hardly be got at; it was, therefore, pulled back, a +broken spar was tied at its end, and then it was again cast +overboard. + +After a full half-hour's hard work, Milenko and his mates managed to +get to the floating hawser and to haul it up; then they rowed lustily +back to the ship with it. The caique was then tugged close to the +brig's stern, which steered towards the land as well as she could. + +The poor bark, shorn of her masts, was in a wretched state, and one +of her men having gone down in the hold to see how much water there +was in her, found that she had sprung a leak and that she was filling +fast, notwithstanding all the exertions of the men at the pump. + +Though the storm had somewhat abated, still the caique was now +sinking, so that it was beyond all possibility to reach the shore in +time to save her. The two friends again got into the boat, and went +once more beside the wreck. This time they managed to get near enough +to save the crew and the few passengers they had. When all were on +board, then this little boat, heavily laden with human lives, was +rowed back to the brig. After this, the rope which bound the caique +was cut off, and she was left to drift away at the mercy of the +waves, and, little by little, sink out of sight. + +The first person that Milenko had got into the little boat, and who +he now helped on board the brig, was a young girl of about sixteen, +but who, like the women of her country, looked rather older than she +was. After her came her father and her mother, who were passengers on +board of the caique; they had come from Scio, and were bound for +Nona, a small town near Zara. The young girl had, throughout the +storm, shown an extraordinary courage; nay, she had been a helpmate +rather than an encumbrance. But when she saw herself safe on board +the _Spera in Dio_ (Hope in God)--for this was the brig's name--then +her strength failed her all at once, and she sank into a deep swoon. +Milenko, who had helped her on board, and who was standing by her, +caught her up in his arms, carried her downstairs and laid her upon +his bed. + +Milenko had hitherto never cared for any woman; but now, as he +carried this lifeless body, and he saw this pale, wan, childlike face +leaning on his shoulder, he felt a strange unknown flutter somewhere +about his heart. Then the sense of his own manhood came over him; he +knew himself strong, and he was glad to be able to shelter this frail +being within his brawny arms. + +Having rescued this girl from the jaws of death, she seemed to be his +own, and his bosom heaved with a feeling quite new to him. He would +have liked to have gone through life with this weak creature clinging +to him for strength, just as a mother would fain have her babe ever +nestling on her bosom. Now, having to relinquish her, he was glad to +lay her upon his own bed, for thus she still seemed to belong to him. + +Her mother was at once by her side, her father and the captain soon +followed, and all the care their rough hospitality could afford was +lavished upon her. As the fainting-fit had been brought on through +long fasting, as well as by a strain of the nerves, a spoonful of the +captain's rare cognac had the desired effect of recalling her to +life. + +Coming to herself, she was astonished at seeing so many sunburnt, +weather-beaten, unknown faces around her; she looked at them all, +from one to the other, but Milenko's deep blue eyes, wistfully +gloating upon her own, attracted her attention. She had seen him in +the boat when he came to their rescue, he had helped her on board; +and now, after that fainting-fit, which seemed to have stopped the +march of time for a while, she fancied she had known him long ago. +She looked first at him, then at her mother; then again at him. After +this, feeling as if she was quite safe as long as her mother and that +unknown young man--who still was no stranger--stood watching over +her, her heavy eyelids drooped, and she fell into a light slumber. + +The captain having persuaded the mother to take some rest, all went +to attend to their duties; still, Milenko softly crept down every now +and then to see if the women wanted anything, and to have a sly look +at the young girl sleeping in his bed. As he stood there gazing upon +her, he was conscious that his senses had grown more mellow--that +life henceforth had an aim. This was the dawn of real love in a +strong man's breast. Whilst he was looking at her, the young girl +woke from her slumbers; she opened her eyes, and her glances fell +again upon him. + +"Where am I?" she said, half-frightened. Then, recognising the young +man, she added: "Yes, I know, you saved my life when I was drowning." + +The mother, hearing her daughter speak, yawned, stretched out her +arms and woke. + +The storm had now abated. The dark clouds were quickly flitting, and +the sun, which had risen upon that first day of the year, was now +shining in all its splendour on the broad expanse of the blue waters +and upon the huge crested waves; and the sight was as exhilarating as +it was delightful. + +The poor wrecked family having gathered together on deck, breakfast +was got ready, and all sat down to the frugal meal which the ship's +provisions afforded. + +When the breakfast was over, the father of the young girl--who had +been questioned several times as to the place from where he was +coming, to the port whither he was bound, his occupation, and so +forth--related to his hosts the story of his adventures, which can be +abridged as follows: + +"My name is Giulianic. Our family, though Slav and Orthodox, is said +to have been of Italian origin, and that the name, years ago, was +Giuliani. Still, I cannot swear as to the truth of this assertion. My +father in his first youth had gone to the Levant, and had settled at +Chios. He was a coppersmith; and, as far as I can remember, he was +very prosperous. He had a large and well-furnished shop, and employed +a good many workmen. + +"I was the eldest of the family; after me there came a girl, who, +happily for herself, died when she was yet quite a baby, and before +trouble befel us; for had she been spared, she doubtless would have +ended her life in some harem, if not in a worse way, losing thus both +soul and body. After her came two boys; so that between myself and +my youngest brother there was a difference of about ten years, if not +more. I was, therefore, the only child of our family who knew the +blessing of a happy boyhood, for my early years, spent either in my +father's shop or in our country-house, were passed in bliss; but +alas! that time is so far off that its remembrance is only like a +dream. + +"When I was about ten or twelve years--I cannot say exactly how old I +was, as all the registers have been destroyed--a terrible revolution +took place. It was, I remember, an awful time, when Christian blood +ran in streams through the streets of towns and villages, when houses +were burnt down, and the whole island remained a mass of smouldering +ruins. + +"My father was, if I am not mistaken, the first victim of that bloody +fray; like all men of pluck, and indeed like most men of no pluck at +all, he was butchered by the Turks. My mother----" + +There was a pause. A tear glistened in the corner of the old man's +eye, then it rolled down his wrinkled cheek and disappeared in the +long, bristling white moustache; his voice faltered. Though more than +half a century had passed since that dreadful day, still he could +hardly speak about it. After a moment he added, drily: + +"My mother fell into the hands of those dogs. I was separated from my +brothers. The youngest, as I was told, was taken by those fiends. He +was a bright, handsome boy; they made a Turk of him. My other brother +disappeared; for days I sought him everywhere, but I could not find +him. + +"Before I go on with the story of my life, I must tell you that all +the men in the Giulianic family have, since immemorial times, a +bright red stain, like a small drop of blood, on the nape of the +neck, just about where the collar-bone is bound to the skull. Its +peculiarity is that its colour increases and decreases with the lunar +phases. Besides this, my father in those troubled times, foreseeing +that the day might come when we should be snatched from him, caused a +little Greek Cross to be tattooed upon us." + +Here, suiting the action to the words, he bared his left breast and +showed us the holy sign just near the place where the heart is seen +to throb. + +"Thus, to resume the story of my life, when I was hardly twelve I +found myself an orphan, alone and penniless. The night of that +dreadful day I went to cry by the smouldering ruins of our house, +looking if I could at least find the mangled remains of that father +whom I loved so dearly. When morning came, I knew that I was not only +turned adrift upon this wide world, but that I had to flee, whither I +knew not. I lurked about in all kinds of hiding-places, and when I +crawled out I always seemed to hear the steps and the voices of those +bloodthirsty murderers. The falling leaf, the sudden flight of a +locust, the chirrup of an insect filled me with terror, and indeed +more than once, hidden within a bush or crouching behind a stone, I +saw the tall _zeibeks_, those fierce-looking mountaineers, the +scourge of the country far around, in search of prey. For days I +managed to live, I really do not know how, but principally on +oranges, I think. One day, being on the strand and seeing a vessel +riding at anchor at some distance, I swam up to it. The captain, who +was a Dalmatian, took pity on me, and brought me to Zara, whither his +ship was bound. From that time I managed to drag on through life; +still, I should not have been unhappy had I been able to forget. + +"After several years of hard struggle, I at last went to Mostar; +there fate, tired of persecuting me, began to be more favourable. I +was prosperous in all my undertakings; I married; then my +restlessness began to wear away, I thought I had settled down for +life. Had I only been able to find out something about my lost +brothers, I do not think anything more would have been wanting to my +happiness. + +"Years passed, aye, a good many years since those terrible days which +had blighted my childhood, for my eldest child, who died soon +afterwards, was then about the age I had been when I was bereft of +kith and kin. It happened that one day--stop, it was on Easter +Monday--I was having a picnic with some friends at a farm belonging +to my wife's father. We were sauntering in the fields, enjoying the +beauty of the country, which at that time was in all its bloom, when +looking down from a height upon the road beneath, we saw a cloud of +dust. We stopped to look, and we perceived at a few yards from us, +two or three panting men evidently running for their lives. + +"They were all armed, not only with daggers and pistols, but also +with long muskets. At twenty paces behind them came half-a-dozen +_zaptiehs_, or guards. + +"The highwaymen, for such they seemed to us, evidently tired out, +were losing ground at every step, and the Turks were about to +overtake them. All at once the robbers reached a corner of the road, +just under the hill on which we were standing; there the foremost man +amongst them stopped, and after bidding the others to be off, he put +his musket to his shoulder. When the _zaptiehs_ came nearer, he +called to them to turn back if they cared for their lives. There was +a moment of indecision amongst the guards; each one looked upon his +neighbour, wondering what he would do, when the one who seemed to be +their officer took out his pistol and pointed it at the highwayman, +calling to him to give up. For all reply, the robber took a +deliberate aim at the Turk. Both men fired at once. The guards, +astonished, stood back for a trice. The Turk fell, the highwayman +remained unhurt; thereupon he laid by his gun and took out a +revolver. The guards came up and fired off their weapons; the robber +fell, apparently shot through by many balls. + +"The _zaptiehs_ stopped for a moment to look at their companion; they +undid his clothes. Life was already extinct; the highwayman's bullet +had struck him above the left breast, and, taking a downward course, +it had pierced the heart. Death must have been instantaneous. By the +signs of grief given to him, the man must have been admired and +beloved by his companions; but their sorrow seemed all at once to +melt into hatred and a thirst for revenge, so that they all rose and +ran after the two fugitives, evidently hoping to overtake them. + +"I can hardly describe the feelings that arose in my breast at that +sight; it was the first time in my life that I had beheld the corpse +of a Turk, not only without any feeling of exultation, but even with +a sense of deep pity. + +"'He was a brave man,' said I to my friends; 'therefore he must have +been a good man.' + +"As soon as the _zaptiehs_ were out of sight, we ran down to see the +two men, and ascertain if life were quite extinct in them. + +"I went up to the Turkish guard. I lifted up his lifeless head, and, +as I did so, my heart was filled with love and sorrow. He was a +stalwart, handsome man, in the flower of his years. + +"'Is he quite dead?' I asked myself; 'is he not, perhaps, only +wounded?' + +"I opened his vest to look at the wound, and as I laid his chest +bare, there, to my astonishment, grief and dismay, below the left +breast, pricked in tiny blue dots, was the sign of the holy Cross +--the Greek Cross, like the one which had been tattooed on my own +flesh. + +"I felt faint as I beheld it; my eyes grew dim, my hands fell +lifeless. Was this man one of my long-lost brothers? + +"My strength returned; with feverish hands I sought the mark on the +nape of the neck. It was full-moon; therefore the stain was not only +visible, but as red as the blood which flowed from his wounds. + +"A feeling of faintness came over me again; I knew that I was deadly +pale. I uttered a cry as I pressed the lifeless head to my heart. + +"This man, no doubt, was my youngest brother, whom those hell-hounds +had snatched away from our mother's breast upon that dreadful day, +and--cursed be their race for ever--they had made a Turkish guard of +him. + +"His head was lying upon my lap; I bowed upon it and covered it with +kisses. + +"My wife and all my friends, seeing me act in such a strange way, +unable to understand my overwhelming anguish, thought that I had been +all at once struck with madness. + +"'What is the matter?' said my wife, looking at me with awe-struck +eyes. + +"I could hardly speak. All I could do was to point with my finger at +the sign of the Cross on the _zaptieh_'s breast. + +"'Can it be possible? Is it your brother?' + +"I mournfully nodded assent. Then, after a few moments, I added that +I had also found the family sign on the nape of this man's neck. + +"In the meantime help was given to the highwayman, who, +notwithstanding his wounds, was not quite dead, though he had fallen +into a death-like swoon. My father-in-law was vainly endeavouring to +bring him back to life, whilst I was lavishing my sorrow and caresses +upon the man I had so longed to see. + +"'Let us take him away from here,' said I, trying to lift him up; 'he +shall not be touched by those dogs. Christian burial is to be given +him; he must lie in consecrated ground.' + +"'But,' said my father-in-law---- + +"'There are no "buts." They have had his body in his lifetime; they +shall not have it after his death. Besides, his soul will have no +rest, thinking that its earthly shell lies festering unhallowed. No; +even if I am to lose my head, they shall not put a finger upon him.' + +"Instead of giving me an answer, my father-in-law uttered a kind of +stifled cry of astonishment. My wife, who was by his side, shrieked +out, looked wildly at me, and then lifted both her hands to her head, +with horror and amazement. + +"What had happened? + +"I looked round. The highwayman, the man who had shot my brother +through the heart, was coming back to life; he was panting for +breath. I looked at him. He opened his eyes. A shudder came over me. +There was a strange likeness between the murderer and the murdered +man. Perhaps it was because the one was dying and the other was dead. + +"My father-in-law, my wife and my friends looked at the robber, then +at me; awe, dread, sorrow was seen in all their eyes. + +"I looked again at the highwayman. He had moved a little; his +_jacerma_ was loosened, his shirt was torn open, his breast was all +bare. + +"Horror! There, under the left breast, I saw the sign of the Greek +Cross. + +"For a moment I remained stunned, hardly knowing whether I was in my +senses or if I was mad. + +"A feeling of overpowering fear came upon me; it seemed as if I were +in the midst of a mighty whirlwind. For the first time in my life I +beheld the sign of the holy Cross with horror and dismay. + +"I lifted my hands up towards heaven in earnest supplication. + +"A religious man prays, perhaps, two or three times a day; still, +those are lip-prayers. Few men pray from the innermost depths of +their hearts more than ten times during their life, and that, indeed, +is much. At that moment my very soul seemed to be upheaved towards +heaven with the words that came from my mouth. I entreated the +All-wise Creator of heaven and earth that this _heyduke_ might be no +kith and kin to me, that his blood-stained hands might not be +polluted with a brother's murder. + +"During these few instants, my friends had gently lifted the dying +man from the ground, and then they had sought for the family sign on +the highwayman's neck. Like my brother's and mine, that stain was +there, of a blood-red hue. + +"I left the body where life was extinct to tend the one where a spark +of life was yet lingering. Slowly and carefully we had the bodies +transported to my father-in-law's house. + +"The Turkish guards on their pursuit of the robbers did not, on their +return, come back the same way. On the morrow a search was made for +their officer's body and for that of the highwayman, but, not finding +them, they came to the conclusion that they had been devoured by wild +beasts. + +"With great difficulty, and with much bribing (for, as you yourselves +know, even our own priests are fond of _backseesh_) my dead brother +was laid low in our churchyard, and Masses were said on his earthly +remains. The wounded man lingered on for some days, between life and +death, and during all that time I was always by his bedside. He was +delirious, and by his ravings I understood that he hated the Turks as +much as I did, for he was always fighting against them. We called a +skilful surgeon of the Austrian army, who, though he gave us but +little hope, managed to snatch him from the jaws of death. + +"His convalescence was very slow, but health kept creeping back. When +he was quite out of danger I questioned him about his youth, his +early manhood, and the circumstances that urged him to take to the +daring life of a _klefte_. Thereupon he related all the vicissitudes +of his good and bad fortune, which I shall resume as follows: + +"'I was born at Chios; therefore, though I am of Slav origin and I am +called Giulianic, I am known throughout all Turkey as the Chiot. You +yourself must have heard of me. I remember but little of my family. +My life begins with a terrible date--that of the massacre of the +Christians in my native island. Upon that day I lost my father, my +mother and two of my brothers. Left alone, I was saved by a rich +Greek landowner. He had friends amongst the Turks, and was, +therefore, spared when almost all our fellow-countrymen were +butchered. This gentleman, who had several girls and no boy, treated +me like his own son; and when I reached early manhood, I was engaged +to my adopted father's eldest daughter. Those were the happiest days +of my life, and I should have been far happier still, had my soul not +been parched by an almost irresistible desire for vengeance. + +"'The day of my wedding had already been fixed, when an imprudent +person happened to point out to me the man who had done us a grievous +wrong--the man who had torn our baby brother from my mother's breast, +the man whom I hated even more and worse than those who had killed my +father. Well, as you can well understand, I slew that man. Put +yourself in my place, and tell me if you would not have done the +same? + +"'After that deed it was useless to think of marrying. I fled from +Chios; I went to Smyrna. There I put myself at the head of a gang of +robbers. + +"'My life from that day was that of many _heydukes_; that is to say, +we got by sheer strength what most people get by craft--our daily +bread and very few of the superfluities of life. One thing I can say: +it is that neither I nor any of my men ever spilt a single drop of +Christian blood. It is true that I was the bane of the Turks, and I +never spared them any more than they had spared us. I was beloved by +the poor, with whom I often shared my bread; treated with +consideration by the rich, who preferred having me as their friend +rather than as their enemy; regularly absolved by the Church, whose +feasts and fasts I always kept. I was only dreaded by the Turks, who +set a very great price upon my head. Thus I got to be in some years a +rich and powerful man. I left Asia Minor and passed into Europe, and +then, feeling that I was growing old, I was about to retire from my +trade, when--when you saved my life.' + +"'And now,' I asked him, 'what are you going to do?' + +"'What! That, indeed, is more than I know.' + +"He remained musing for some time, and then he added: + +"'When a man is without any ties, when he has drunk deep the free +mountain air, when the woods have been his dwelling-place and the +starry heaven his roof, when he has lived the lawless life of a +_heyduke_, can he think of cooping himself up within the narrow walls +of a house and live the life of other men?' + +"He stopped for a while, as if lost in his thoughts, and then he +added: + +"'The girl I loved is married; my brothers whom I hoped to meet +again, and for whom I had bought the ground our family once owned at +Chios, are for ever lost to me--doubtless, they perished upon that +dreadful day--therefore, why should I live to drag on a life which +henceforth will be wearisome to me?' + +"'Well, then, what will you do?' + +"'There is, perhaps, more work at Chios for me; I might find out the +men who murdered my father----' + +"'No, no; there is enough of blood upon your hands.' + +"'I thought you were a Slav; as such you must know that the men of +our nation never forgive.' + +"'Listen; if you should happen to meet one of your brothers, if, like +you, he were well off, would you not look upon his home as your own, +his children--whom you might love without knowing--as your children?' + +"'I should love and cherish him, indeed; I should give him the lands +I bought for him at Chios. But, alas! what is the use of speaking +about such a thing? It is only a dream, so listen: no man, hitherto, +has loved me for my own sake, so as to risk his own life for me, as +you have done, though, indeed, I have met with great kindness during +the whole of my lifetime, and have had a great many friends. Well, +then, will you be my brother?' + +"'If I consented, would you remain with me, share my heart and my +home?' + +"'For ever?' + +"'For our whole life.' + +"'No, do not ask me that.' + +"'But should you find your brother after these many years, how would +you know him?' + +"'We have each a Cross tattooed on our left breast, as you, perhaps, +have seen----' + +"'Besides this, a vanishing sign on the nape of the neck,' said I, +interrupting him. + +"'How do you know? Have you ever met?--or perhaps you----' + +"For all answer I opened my vest and showed him the sign of the Greek +Cross. His delight upon knowing me to be his brother knew no bounds. +He threw his arms round my neck, kissed me, and, for the first time +in his life, he cried like a child. + +"Time passed. He recovered his strength, but with it his +restlessness, and his craving for revenge. We soon removed from +Mostar to Ragusa, on account of his safety, and then I hoped that the +change of scenery would quiet him. Alas! this larger town was but a +more spacious prison. From Ragusa we went to Zara, and from there to +Nona, for Ragusa itself was too near Turkey. The change quieted him +for a short time; but his roving disposition soon returned, and then +he talked of going to Chios. One day, seeing that he was about to put +his words into execution, and feeling that I could not keep him with +me any longer, I told him who the Turkish _zaptieh_, against whom he +had fired, really was, and what blood was the last he had spilt. + +"The blow was a terrible one; for days he seemed to be stunned by it. +Little by little, however, it changed the current of his thoughts. He +shortly afterwards gave up to the Church his ill-gotten wealth, +except the Chios estate, of which he had made me a gift. Then he +became a _caloyer_, or Greek monk, and once a year he went on a +pilgrimage to Mostar, to pray upon my brother's tomb. From sinner he +turned saint; but he pined like a wild bird in a cage. He lingered +for some time and then he died at Mostar, where he was buried by the +side of the _zaptieh_ whom he had killed. + +"We had now been to Chios to look after our vineyards and our orange +groves; but I must say that this island, where I was born, is no home +for me. I have lived away from it the whole of my lifetime, and the +remembrances which it brings back to my mind are anything but +pleasant. We were on our way to Nona, and had almost reached the goal +of our voyage when that dreadful storm overtook us, and had it not +been for your kindness and bravery we should all have been lost." + +Evening had set in when Giulianic finished the story of his life, +just when the walls of Zara were in sight; but as it was too late to +land, we spent New Year's night on board the _Spera in Dio_. + + + + +CHAPTER V + +DUCK SHOOTING AT NONA + + +The weather was clear and bright on the second day of the year. The +sea was not only calm, but of the most beautiful turquoise blue, not +the slightest cloud was to be seen in the sky, and the sun's rays +were as sparkling and as warm as if it had been a glowing day in the +latter part of April instead of early January. Nature looked +refreshed and coquettishly radiant; her beauty was enhanced by the +storm of the day before. + +The red-tiled roofs of the higher houses, such as convents and public +buildings, the domes and spires of churches, peeped slily over the +town walls of Zara, and the brig, the _Spera in Dio_, which that +morning lay at anchor by the wharf opposite the principal gate, the +Porta San Grisogono, or Porta del Mare, as it is also called. + +On the pier, along the wharf, on the strand, and within the narrow +street, a motley crowd is to be seen; everyone is gaily decked out in +festive apparel; this sight is one that would have rejoiced a +painter, for few towns present such a variety of dresses as Zara. +There were fair _Morlacchi_ in white woollen clothes, their trousers +fitting them like tights, with their reddish hair plaited into a +little pig-tail; tall and swarthy, long-moustachioed _pandours_, +handsome warlike men, that any stranger might mistake for Turks, +their coats laced and waistcoats covered with silver buttons, bugles +and large coins, glittering in the sunshine, that make them look, at +a distance, as if dressed in armour; then there were peasants, whose +cottages are built on the neighbouring reefs, clad in tight blue +trousers, trimmed in red, red waistcoats laced in yellow, and brown +jackets embroidered in various colours; country girls in green +dresses, red stockings and yellow shoes. These men and women all wear +shirts and chemises prettily stitched and worked in all possible +colours of silks and cottons. Some of these embroideries of flowers +and arabesques are of the richest dyes, and the cherry-red is mingled +with ultramarine blue and leek-green; they are sometimes interwoven +with shells or tinsel; their stockings and leggings are bits of +gorgeous tapestry, whilst the women's aprons are like Eastern +carpets. As for the jewellery, it varies from rows of arangoes to +massive gold beads studded with pearls and other precious stones, +similar to those which the Murano manufactories have artistically +imitated. + +Amongst these peasants are to be seen tall, stately white friars, +portly grey friars, and stout and snuffy-brown friars; priests in +rusty black, priests in fine broadcloth, with violet stockings and +shoes with silver buckles, priests of high and priests of low degree. +Then Austrian officers in white jackets, Croat soldiers in tight +trousers, Hungarians in laced tunics. Lastly, a few civilians, who +are very much out of place in their ungainly, antiquated clothes. + +On the morrow, it was found that the _Spera in Dio_ had been much +damaged by the late storm, and that it was impossible for her to sail +without being thoroughly repaired. The little ship-yard of Zara was +too busy just then to undertake the work, so Giulianic persuaded the +captain to proceed onwards as far as Nona, where he could get +shipwrights to work for him. Therefore, two days after their arrival +at Zara, they set sail for Nona, together with their shipwrecked +guests. The captain and his two mates had now become intimate friends +with Giulianic and his family, who did their utmost to try and +entertain the young men. + +Nona, however, offers but few amusements, nay, hardly any, excepting +hunting; still, Giulianic being a great sportsman, a shooting party +was arranged on the brackish lake of Nona, which at that time of the +year abounds in coots, wild ducks, and other migratory birds. + +Milenko, though fond of this sport, vainly tried to stay on board, +thinking that an hour in Ivanika Giulianic's company was better than +a whole day's shooting on the lake; but all the paltry excuses he +gave for staying behind were speedily overcome, so he had to yield to +Uros and the captain, and go with them. + +The lake of Nona, which is just outside the old battlemented walls of +the town, is about a mile in length: its waters are always rather +salty, on account of two canals which at high tide communicate with +the sea. + +The little party, composed of the captain, his two mates, Giulianic +and some other friends of his, started for the lake about an hour +before sunrise; and towards dawn they all got into the canoes that +were there waiting for them, as every hunter had a little boat and an +oarsman at his disposal. + +They left the shores on different sides, and noiselessly glided +towards the place where the coots had gathered for the night, +surrounding them on every side, so as to cut away from them every +means of escape. + +When they had reached the goal, the signal for beginning the attack +was given, a musket being fired from off the shore. That loud noise, +midst the stillness of early dawn, startled the poor birds from their +peaceful slumbers; they at once foolishly rise, fly and flutter about +in all directions, but without soaring to any great height. The +slaughter now begins. Soon the birds get over their first fright, and +the hunters not to scare them away, leave them a few moments' +respite; the coots then seem loath to abandon such a rich pasture and +turn back to their sedges. Therefore they see the boats appear on +every side and hedge them within a narrow circle. They are once more +on the wing, ready to fly away. Greed again prevails over fear; the +birds gather together, but do not make their escape. Pressed closer +by the hunters they at last rise all in a flock. It is too late; +death reaches them on every side. All at once, amidst the smoke and +the noise, they make a bold attempt to cross the enemy's line, but +only do so in the greatest confusion, flying hither and thither, +helter-skelter, the one butting against the other, and thus they all +kept falling a prey to the keen-eyed, quick-handed sportsmen. + +At first the shores of the lake are but dimly seen through the thick +veil of mist arising from the smooth surface of the rippleless +waters, as from a huge brewing-pan, and everything is of a cold +greyish hue, fleecy on the shore. But now the sun has appeared like a +burnished disc of copper amidst a golden halo; soon all the mist +vanishes beneath his warm rays. The mellow morning light falls upon +the numberless feathered carcasses that dye the waters of the +stagnant mere. + +The pulse of every sportsman flutters with excitement; despair has +given courage to the birds, which rise much higher than before, and +are making heroic efforts to break through the lines. Soon the flurry +that had prevailed amongst the birds, falls to the lot of the +sportsmen; they give orders and counter orders to the oarsmen, and +the circle of boats has become an entangled maze. + +The lake now resounds, not so much with firing as with shouts of +merriment and peals of laughter, sometimes because one of the boats +has butted against the other, and one of the hunters has lost his +balance and got a ducking. The morning being now far advanced, the +sportsmen gather together for breakfast, leaving time to the birds to +get over their bewildered state and settle quietly again in a flock +round about their resting-place. + +In an hour's time the shooting begins again, but the head is not so +light, the sight so keen, nor the hand so quick as before breakfast; +nay, it happened at times that the captain saw two coots instead of +one, and fired just between the two; besides, the birds were also in +a more disbanded state, so that the quantity of game killed was not +what it had been in the early part of the morning. Mirth, however, +did not flag; the mist, moreover, having quite vanished, the beauty +of the green shores was seen in all its splendour. + +Many of the youthful inhabitants of Nona had come to see the sport, +picking up some wounded bird bleeding to death in the fields; whilst +many a countryman passing thereby, wearily trudging towards his home, +his long-barrelled gun slung across his shoulder, shot down more than +one stray coot that had taken refuge in a neighbouring field, hoping +thereby to have escaped from the general slaughter. + +At last, late in the afternoon, our sportsmen, heavily laden, +followed Giulianic to his house, to finish there the day which they +had so well begun. + +Moreover, the men having risen so very early and being tired out, +fell to dozing. Uros had gone to the ship to see how the repairs were +getting on, and Milenko was thus left alone with Ivanika, or +Ivanitza, as she was usually called. This was the opportunity he had +eagerly wished for, to confess his love to her; nay, for two days he +had rehearsed this scene over and over in his mind, and he had not +only thought of all he would say to her, but even what she would +answer. + +Although he was said to be gifted with a vivid imagination, now that +he was alone with her he could hardly find a word to say. It was, +indeed, so much easier to woo in fancy than in reality. + +How happy he would have been, walking in the garden with this +beautiful girl, if he could only have got rid of his overpowering +shyness. How many things he could have told her if he had only known +how to begin; but every monosyllable he had uttered was said with +trepidation, and in a hoarse and husky tone. Still, with every +passing moment, he felt he was losing a precious opportunity he might +never have again. + +He did not know, however, that, if his lips were dumb, his eyes, +beaming with love, spoke a passionate speech that words themselves +were powerless to express. Nor was he aware that--though with +maidenly coyness she turned her head away--she still read in his +burning glances the love she longed to hear from his lips. + +After a few commonplace phrases they walked on in silence, and then +the same thoughts filled their hearts with almost unutterable +anguish. In a few days the brig would be repaired, the sails +unfurled, the anchor weighed; then the broad sea would separate them +for ever. + +The sun was just sinking beyond the waves, and the shivering waters +looked like translucent gold; a mass of soft, misty clouds was +glowing with saffron, orange and crimson hues, whilst the sky above +was of a warm, roseate flush. Little by little all the tints faded, +became duller, more delicate; the saffron changed into a pale-greyish +lemon green, the crimson softened into pink. The sun's last rays +having disappeared, the opaline clouds looked like wreaths of smoke +or pearly-grey mists. + +Milenko's heart felt all the changes that Nature underwent; his +glowing love, though not less intent, was more subdued, and though, +in his yearning, he longed to clasp this maiden in his arms, and to +tell her that his life would be sadder than dusk itself without her +love, still he felt too much and had not the courage to speak. +Sometimes in the fulness of the heart the mouth remains mute. + +Now the bell of a distant church began to ring slowly--the evening +song, the dirge of the dying day. Ivanitza crossed herself devoutly; +Milenko took off his cap, and likewise made the sign of the Cross. +Both of them stopped; both breathed a short prayer, and then resumed +their walk in silence. + +After a few steps he tried to master his emotion and utter that short +sentence: "Ivanitza, I love you." + +Then something seemed to grip his throat and choke him; it was not +possible for him to bring those words out. Besides, he thought they +would sound so unmeaning and vapid, so far from expressing the hunger +of his heart; so he said nothing. + +Meanwhile the bell kept doling out its chimes slowly, one by one, and +as he asked himself whether it were possible to live without this +girl, whom he now loved so dearly, the harmony of the bell chimed in +with his thoughts, and said to him: "Ay, nay; ay, nay." + +All at once, feeling that this girl must think him a fool if he kept +silent, that he must say something, no matter what it was, and +happening to see a lonely gull flying away towards the sea, he said, +in a faltering tone: + +"Ivanika, do you like coots?" + +It was the only thing that came into his mind. She looked up at him +with a roguish twinkle in her eyes. + +"Do you mean cooked coots or live coots?" + +Milenko looked for a while rather puzzled, as if bewildered by the +question. Then, taking the tips of the girl's fingers: "I was not +thinking of them, either alive or cooked." + +Ivanika quietly drew her hand away. + +"What were you thinking of, then?" she said. + +"May I tell you?" + +"Well, if you want any answer to your question," added she, laughing. + +"Please don't make fun of me. If you only knew----" + +"What?" + +He grasped her hand, and held it tight in his. + +"Well, how deeply I love you." + +He said this in a tragic tone, and heaved a sigh of relief when it +was out at last. + +The young girl tried to wrench away her hand, but he held it fast. +She turned her head aside, so that he could not see the +uncontrollable ray of happiness that gleamed within the depths of her +eyes. Her heart fluttered, a thrill of joy passed through her whole +frame; but she did her best to subdue her emotion, which might seem +bold and unmaidenly, so that she schooled herself to say demurely, +nay almost coldly: + +"How can you possibly love me, when you know so little of me?" + +"But must you know a person for ages before you love him, Ivanitza?" + +"No, I don't mean that; still----" + +"Though I have never been fond of any girl till now, and therefore +did not know what love was, still, the moment I saw you I felt as if +my heart had stopped beating. You may think it strange, but still it +is true. When I saw you with my spy-glass standing bravely on the +deck of your crazy boat, whilst the huge billows and breakers were +dashing against you, ever ready to wash you away, then my heart +seemed to take wings and fly towards you. How I suffered at that +moment. Every time your boat was about to sink, I gasped, feeling as +if I myself was drowning; but had the caique foundered, I should have +jumped in the waves and swum to your rescue." + +Ivanitza's heart throbbed with joy, pride, exultation at the thought +of having the love of such a brave man. + +"You see, I had hardly seen you, and still I should have risked my +life a thousand times to help you. It was for you, and you alone, +that I got into the boat to come to you, though the captain and Uros +at first thought it sheer madness; and if my friend and the other +sailor had not accompanied me--well, I should have come alone." + +"And got drowned?" + +"Life would not have been worth living without you." + +The young girl looked at him with admiring eyes, and nature, for a +moment, almost got the mastery over her shyness and the stern +claustral way in which, like all Levantine girls, she had been +brought up; for her impulse was to throw herself in his arms and +leave him to strain her against his manly chest. Besides, at that +moment she remembered what a delightful sensation she had had when, +awaking from her swoon, she had felt herself carried like a baby in +his strong arms. Still, she managed to master herself, and only said: + +"So, had it not been for you, we should all have been drowned." + +"Oh, I don't say that! Seeing your danger, at the last moment someone +else might, perhaps, have volunteered to come to your rescue. Uros +and the captain are both very brave; only the captain has a family of +his own, and Uros---" + +"What! is he married?" + +"Oh, no!" said Milenko, laughing; "he is not married, but----" + +"But what?" + +"Well, you see, he is in love; but please do not mention a word about +it to him or anyone else." + +"Why, is it a secret?" + +"Yes, it is a very great secret--that is to say, not a very great +secret either, but it is a matter never to be spoken of." + +"No? Why?" + +"I can't tell you; indeed, I can't." + +"How you tantalise me!" + +"I'll tell you, perhaps, some other time." + +"When?" + +"Well, perhaps, when----" + +"Go on." + +"When we are married." + +The young girl burst out laughing. It was a clear, silvery, +spontaneous, merry laugh; but still, for a moment, it jarred upon +Milenko's nerves. He looked rather downcast, for he was far from +thinking the matter to be a joke. + +"Why do you laugh?" said he, ruefully. + +"Because, probably, I shall never know your friend's secret." + +The poor fellow's brown complexion grew livid, the muscles of his +heart contracted with a spasm, he gasped for breath; the pang he felt +was so strong that he could hardly speak; still, he managed to +falter: + +"Why, are you, perhaps, already engaged to be married?" + +"I?" said she, with another laugh. "No." + +"Nor in love with anyone?" + +"No." + +"Then, don't you think----" + +He stopped again. + +"Think what?" + +"Well, that you might love me a little some day?" + +She gave him no answer. + +"What, you don't think you could?" he asked, anxiously. + +"But I didn't say that I couldn't, only----" + +"Only what?" + +"A girl cannot always choose for herself." + +"Why not?" + +"Suppose my father chooses someone else for me?" + +"But surely he will not." + +"Suppose he has already promised me----" + +"Why go and suppose such dreadful things? Besides, he ought to +remember that I risked my life to save yours; that----" + +Milenko stopped for a moment, and then he added: + +"Well, I don't like boasting; still, if it had not been for me--well, +I suppose your caique would have foundered. No, tell me that you love +me, or at least that you might get to love me. Let me ask your +father----" + +"No, no; not yet." + +"Why not?" + +"Well, we hardly know each other. Who knows, perhaps, the next port +you go to----" + +Here she heaved a deep sigh. + +"Well, what?" asked the youth, ingenuously. + +"You might see some girl that you might like better than myself, and +then you will regret that you have engaged yourself to a girl whom +you think you are obliged to marry." + +"How can you think me so fickle?" + +"You are so young." + +"So is Uros young, and still----" + +"Still?" she asked, smilingly, with an inquisitive look. + +"He is in love." + +"With?" + +"A woman," said Milenko, gloomily. + +"Of course." + +"Well, I'll tell you, only please don't mention it--with a married +woman. Are you not sorry for him?" + +"No, not at all; a young man ought not to fall in love with a married +woman--it's a sin, a crime." + +"That's what I told him myself." + +After a short pause, Milenko, having now got over his shyness: + +"Well, Ivanitza, tell me, will you not give me a little hope; will +you not try to love me just a little?" + +"Would you be satisfied with only just a little?" + +"No." + +"Well, then--I am afraid----" + +"What?" + +"I shall have to love you a good deal." + +He caught hold of her reluctant hand and covered it with kisses. + +"If you think that your father might object to me because I am a +seaman, tell him that my father is well off, and that I am his only +son. Both Uros and I have gone to sea by choice, and to see a little +of the world; still, we are not to be sailors all our lives." + +Afterwards he began to ask her whether she would not like to come and +sail with him in summer, when he would be master of the brig; then +again he ended by begging her to allow him to speak to her father. + +"No, not now. It is better for you to go away and see if you do not +forget me. Besides, neither your father nor your mother know anything +about me, and it may happen that they have other views about you." + +"Their only aim is my happiness." + +"Still, they might think that you were wheedled----" + +"How could they think so ill of you?" + +"You forget that they do not know me. Anyhow, it is more dutiful that +you should speak to them before you speak to my father." + +"Well, perhaps you are right. Only, you see, I love you so; I should +be so frightened to lose you." + +"It is not likely that anybody will think of me for some years yet." + +"Well, then, promise me not to marry anyone else. In a year's time, +then, I shall come and speak to your father. Will you promise?" + +"I promise." + +"Will you give me a pledge?" + +She gave him her hand, but he gently pulled her towards him, clasped +her in his arms, and kissed her rosy lips. Then they both went into +the house. + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +THE BULLIN-MOST + + +"I suppose you have been to Knin and Dernis?" said the captain by +chance after dinner to his host, speaking about the trade with the +interior, whilst puffing away at the long stem of his cherry-wood +pipe. + +"Of course. Haven't you?" + +"Oh, no! we sailors are always acquainted with the coasts of +countries, nothing more. What kind of a place is this Knin?" + +"Much of a muchness, like other places. The country, however, is fine +and picturesque. There is, besides, the Bullin-Most." + +"What is that?" + +"The name of a bridge at the entrance of the town, and almost at the +foot of the fortress which tops the crags. It is called the +Bullin-Most, or the Bridge of the Turkish Woman. Formerly it used to +be called the Bridge of the Two Torrents." + +"Well, and what is there remarkable about it?" + +"Don't you know the tale of 'Hussein and Ayesha'?" + +"No." + +"It is the subject of one of Kacic's finest poems. Would you like to +hear it?" + +"Of course." + +"Well, then, about two hundred years ago, more or less, Kuna Hassan +was the governor of Knin and of the neighbouring province. The _Aga_ +was said to be a man of great wisdom and courage; but his many +qualities were marred by his severity towards the Christians, whom he +hated, and subjected to all kinds of vexations and cruel treatment. + +"This _Aga_ had a numerous family, being blessed with many children +by his several wives; but Ayesha, the only daughter of his favourite +wife, was the child in whom he had put all the fondness of his heart. +She was, it is true, a girl of an extraordinary beauty. Her skin, +they say, was as white as the snowy peaks of the Dinara, the mountain +over against the fort of Knin; her eyes were black, but they sparkled +softly, like the star which shines at twilight; her curly hair had +the colour of the harvest moon's mellow light. + +"All the _vati_ of her father's palace were in love with her, only +hearing her beauty extolled by the eunuchs of the harem, and seeing +her glorious eyes sparkle through her veils, or the tips of her +tapering fingers, as she held her _feredgé_. + +"The principal lords of Kuna Hassan Aga's Court were, first, Ibrahim +Velagic, the _Dizdar_ of Stermizza; then Mujo Jelascovic, the +governor of Biscupia; lastly old Sarè the _Bulju Pasha_, or +lieutenant of the troops. The old Sarè had a son named Hussein, who +was the standard-bearer; he was the most beautiful young man of the +land, nay, it was difficult to find his like. He was, indeed, as +handsome as Ayesha was comely. The one was like a lily, the other +like a pomegranate flower. + +"At that time, as I have said before, the Christians were groaning +under the Turkish yoke, and several attempts had already been made to +shake it off; nay, many of the struggles which had taken place +between the Turks and the men of the Kotar had been most successful, +as they had for their chief, Jancovic Stoyan, or Stephen, known in +history as 'the clearer of Turkish heads.' These continual skirmishes +had weakened our oppressors in such a way, and spread so much fear +amongst them, that Kuna Hassan never felt sure whenever he left his +castle walls. Finding himself reduced to this extremity, he +determined to muster all the troops he could get together and make +war upon the Christians. + +"And now," said Giulianic, "I think I can give you some of Kacic's +verses on this subject;" therefore, taking a guitar, he sang as +follows: + + "A letter wrote Hassan Aga + From Knin itself, the white-walled town; + He sent it to the bordering Turks, + To Mujo and to Velagic. + + "And in this letter Kuna spake: + 'Oh! brave men of my border-lands, + Now muster all your borderers, + And hie to Knin, the white-walled town. + + "'For we shall raid upon Kotar, + And there rich plunder shall we get + Both gold and young Molachian maids, + Shall be the prize of all the brave. + + "'Kotar will be an easy prey + For you, the warriors of the Cross! + Besides, the Sirdars are away, + And Stoyan is in Venice now. + + "'Milikovic has fallen sick, + Mocivana has lost his horse, + Mircetic has sprained his hand, + And Klana to a feast is gone.' + + "The Bulju Pasha heard all this, + And wisely answered to Kuna: + 'Forbear, Kuna Aga; forbear + To make a raid upon Kotar!'" + +Giulianic stopped to take breath. "The poem is long," said he, "and I +am old; I shall relate the story in my own words:--Well, Kuna Hassan +Aga would not be dissuaded, especially as the _Dizdars_ were for it. +The expedition took place. Jelascovic and Velagic--called the snakes +of the empire, on account of their strength and craft--came to Kuna's +castle, bringing each man three hundred men with him. The _Aga_ +mustered as many men himself, and with this little array they set off +for the Kotar. At first they were successful; they fell upon the open +country, plundering and sacking, carrying away young boys and girls +as slaves, finding nowhere the slightest opposition. It was not a +war, but a military march; thus they went on until they reached the +lovely meadows at the foot of the hills of Otre, a most pleasant +country, watered by many rivulets. + +"There they pitched their tents, and began to prepare their meal and +make merry. All at once as the sun went down, a slight mist began to +rise from the waters and from the marshes of Ostrovizza, not very far +off from there. As the day declined, the fog grew denser, and when +night came on Jancovic Stoyan, who had returned from Venice, together +with the other _Sirdars_, fell upon them, threw them upon the +marshes, and not only obliged them to give back all their plunder, +but killed more than six hundred of their men. It was only with great +difficulty that the _Aga_ and _Dizdars_ got back to Knin; they were +all in a sorry plight, regretting deeply not to have followed Sarè's +advice. + +"Shortly after this, Kuna Hassan, having recovered from the wounds he +had received, gathered again all his chief warriors together. Then he +made them a long speech, saying that it was time that the Christian +hornets should be done away with, and their nests destroyed, for, if +left alive, they would daily become more troublesome; then he made +them many promises, so as to induce them to fight, but without much +success. At last he offered the hand of his handsome daughter, who, as +I have said, was indeed as beautiful as a heavenly houri, and a bride +fit for the Sultan, or the Prophet himself, to the bold warrior who +would bring him the head of Jancovic Stoyan, or those of the three +hundred Christians. The prize he requested was a great one, but the +reward he offered was such as to inflame the hearts of the greatest +cowards. + +"However, amongst the warriors that Kuna Hassan had gathered together +that day, neither old Sarè nor his son, the handsome +standard-bearer, had been requested to attend, doubtless, because the +_Aga_ had thought the _Bulju Pasha_ too old, and his son too young +and too rash, for such an undertaking. Perhaps he also felt a grudge +against the _Bulju Pasha_ for having dissuaded him from the first +attack, which had met with such a bad success. + +"When poor Hussein heard of the slight he and his father had met +with, he was very much grieved, for, though he was the _Aga_'s +standard-bearer, he had been treated as a mere boy. Moreover, he was +madly in love with the beautiful Ayesha, who returned his affection. +In fact, whenever she had an opportunity, she sent him a message by +one of the eunuchs, and every time he used to pass under her window +she was at the lattice, and she often dropped a flower, or even her +handkerchief, if no one was looking on. + +"Hussein would have risked his life to try and obtain her; nay, he +would even have gone to Zara and fight Stoyan, if he could get her +father's consent to wed her. + +"As for the _Sirdars_, they were only too glad that Hussein was not +amongst the warriors called forth to strive for Ayesha's hand, nor +would they now allow any new pretender to come forth and take part in +their raids with them. + +"During the many skirmishes that took place round about Knin, Hussein +had been left to take care of the castle, and then he had succeeded +in bribing the head eunuch to allow him to talk with Ayesha. + +"This keeper, knowing how fond his mistress was of the handsome +standard-bearer, had consented to allow the lovers to meet, while he +watched over their safety. + +"At first, when all the Mussulman warriors met with so many losses, +the lovers were happy, for they thought it would be years before any +of them could ask for their reward; but afterwards, when it was known +that Velagic's heap of heads was daily increasing, their gladness of +heart changed into the deepest sorrow. Both saw that there was very +little chance of their ever being able to marry, and Ayesha, rather +than give up the man she loved so deeply and become the wife of the +old _Dizdar_, whom she detested, proposed to her lover that they +should run away together. + +"They waited till the very last moment, thinking that Velagic might +be killed, or some other unforeseen circumstance might take place; +but they had no _Kismet_, for the _Dizdar_ seemed to have a charmed +life; he had already got together about two hundred and ninety heads. +How he had got them, nobody could understand, for he had never +received the slightest wound in any of his many fights. + +"The last time the lovers met, they agreed that the day upon which +Velagic brought the ten last heads they would make their escape. +Hussein, upon that night, was to be on the rocks at the foot of the +castle, somewhere near the place occupied by the harem; then, at +midnight, when all the town had sunk into rest, and all the lights +were extinguished, Ayesha would put a taper by her window to guide +him if everything was ready for their flight. After the _muezzin_ had +called the faithful to prayers, she would open the lattice and throw +out a rope-ladder, by means of which he would climb up into the +castle. There he was to be received by the eunuch that had hitherto +befriended him--be led to her chamber-door. From there they would +pass by an underground passage, the keys of which she had. This +passage had an outlet, somewhere beyond the town, near the bridge, +where, indeed, there is a kind of den or hole. There Hussein was to +have swift horses ready, so that they might at once escape to Zara or +Sebenico, and if that was not far enough, they could there freight a +ship and go off to Venice. + +"Hussein, overjoyed, promised that he would take the necessary steps, +so that nothing might hinder their flight. + +"Poor lovers! they little knew how all their designs were to be +thwarted! + +"At about four miles from Knin, and not far from the highway leading +to Grab, rises a huge beetling rock about thirty feet in height; it +seems to slant so much over the road that all the passers-by shudder +lest it should fall and crush them. The name of this rock is the +Uzdah-kamen, or the Stone of the Sighs--perhaps, because the wind +which always blows there seems to be moaning, or, as there is a kind +of natural cistern, spring, or well of water, which is said to be +fathomless, more than one luckless wanderer, going to drink of that +icy-cold water, happened to slip into it, utter a moan and a sigh, +and then all was over with him. + +"Near this fountain there is a deep cavern, which is the +dwelling-place of a witch, well known in Turkish and Arabian +mythology, as well as Chaldean lore. Her name, which is hardly ever +uttered, and never without a shudder of awe, is Nedurè; but she is +usually spoken of as The Witch. This Nedurè--for we may well call +her by her name without fear--used to take the form of a lovely young +female, and come and sit by the spring at the entrance of her cave. +There she would sit, combing her long hair, which was of the deepest +hue of the night. Then, displaying all the bewitching beauty of +sixteen summers, she would press all the handsome youths who passed +thereby to come and rest in her den. + +"Like a wily spider, she daily caught some silly man to linger and +gaze upon her large, languishing black eyes with long silken lashes, +like natural _khol_, or to look on the dark moles on her alabaster +skin. If he did so, he was lost, and nothing more was heard of him, +but his sighs wafted by the wind. + +"Now, it happened one day that as Hussein was going to Grab on +horseback, he passed by the rock of Uzdah-kamen, and, lo and behold! +Nedurè was sitting by the fountain waiting for him. As soon as she +saw him she beckoned to him to go up to her; but he, far from +obeying, spurred his horse and turned away from the woman. + +"'Hussein,' said she, 'you are warm and weary; come and have a +draught of this delicious water and rest a while in my moss-grown +cavern.' + +"'Thank you, I am neither warm nor weary; so I require neither water +nor rest.' + +"'Hussein, why do you turn away your head, and will not even deign to +cast a glance upon me?' + +"'Because I have heard of your enticements and blandishments, and do +not wish to fall a prey to such charms.' + +"'I am afraid people have slandered me to you,' quoth she; 'but +believe them not. I am your friend--as I am, indeed, that of all +lovers. I know how your heart yearns for Kuna Hassan Aga's daughter, +and I should like to be kind to you, and help you in getting her for +your bride.' + +"'Thank you, indeed,' replied the standard-bearer, who knew the wiles +of the witch; 'you are very good, but I hope to obtain Ayesha by the +strength of my love, and not by your wicked art.' + +"'Look how ungracious you are. I wish to befriend you, whilst you +only answer me by taunts.' + +"'Thank you, but your friendship would cost me too dear.' + +"'No; my help is only paid by love. You see, I do not ask much.' + +"'Still, I should have to remain your debtor. My heart is full of +love for Ayesha, and it can harbour none for creatures such as you.' + +"'Well, then,' said she, in her sweetest voice, which was as soft as +the morning breeze amongst the orange-groves, 'if you hate me in this +way, why do you not look upon me? Do you think my charms can have any +temptation for you?' + +"'We should try to resist temptation, and then it will flee from us.' + +"Thereupon he spurred his horse and rode away. + +"From that day, Nedurè's heart, which had until then burned with +lust, was filled with the bitterest hatred for the young man, who had +not yielded to her request. + +"Therefore she only thought to bring about his death, and was ever +plotting by which way she could harm him, for the Most High would not +allow her to do any harm to the faithful, so she strove to find +someone who would take up her vengeance for her, and now she was +about to reach her aim. + +"When Hussein and Ayesha had planned together everything for their +escape, Nedurè, the witch, who by her art could read the future, and +who, besides, could change herself into the likeness of a bird, a +rat, or even into that of any of the smaller insects, managed somehow +or other to overhear all that conversation of the lovers, and then +she at once sent for Velagic and informed him of what was to take +place. + +"'Velagic,' said she, 'you are old, and it is true you think yourself +a world-wise man, but do you really believe that Ayesha, who is as +beautiful as the rising moon, for whose charms all men lose their +wits, can fall in love with an old man like you?' + +"'I do not ask her to fall in love with me. Now, by your help, I +shall have got together the number of heads which the _Aga_ requires +as the prize for his daughter, and then she will be mine.' + +"'Do not be too sure of that. Whilst you are numbering your heads, +Hussein, the handsome standard-bearer, has found his way to Ayesha's +heart.' + +"Velagic winced at hearing this; but soon he shrugged his shoulders, +and added: + +"'What does it matter if that young coxcomb is in love with her, or +even she with him. In a day or two I shall claim her as my bride. +Once she is in my stronghold of Stermizza, woe to the flies that come +buzzing around my honey.' + +"'Velagic, Velagic,' said the witch, 'there is many a slip 'twixt the +cup and the lip; to-morrow you may find the cage empty and the bird +flown.' + +"'What do you mean, Nedurè?' + +"'I mean what I say.' + +"'Explain yourself, I beg you.' + +"The witch thereupon told the _Dizdar_ all that was to take place, +and then advised him what he had to do. + +"That day passed away and night came on; it was even a very dark one, +because, not only was there no moon, but the sky was overspread with +a thick mass of clouds, and heaven seemed to be lowering on the +earth. + +"The hours passed slowly for three persons at Knin that night. Two of +them repeated their prayers devoutly, and tried to fix their thoughts +towards the holy _Kaaba_; one alone, whose heart was full of +murderous designs, could not pray at all. + +"Velagic had been a wicked man; he had forfeited the happiness of his +future life, but never as yet had he rendered himself guilty of +shedding the blood of a Mussulman, nay, of murdering the son of one +of his greatest friends. The guilt he was about to commit was beyond +redemption; he knew that the Compassionate would spurn him away in +his wrath, and that he would be doomed to eternal fire; but what +could he do now? it was too late to retreat. He was in the witch's +power, nay, an instrument in her hands. + +"He tried to pray, but every time he attempted to utter Allah's +sacred name, it seemed as if the three hundred heads now gathered +upon his tower were all blinking and grinning at him. + +"Midnight came; all the preparations were made, every necessary +precaution against surprise was taken, the horses were ready for the +fugitives at the opening of the cave beyond the bridge. + +"Hussein, at the foot of the tower, saw the beacon light at Ayesha's +window, and slowly and stealthily he scrambled on to the rocks +beneath it, awaiting, with a beating heart, for the given signal. + +"All at once, in the midst of the darkness, he heard the _adan_--the +chant of the _muezzin_--calling the faithful to the prayers of the +_Ramazan_. + +"'God is most great,' uttered Hussein faintly, and then lifting his +eyes as the sound of the _muezzin_'s voice had died away in the +distance, he saw the lattice of Ayesha's window open, and he heard +the ladder of ropes slowly being let down. + +"He had time to say one _rekah_, or prayer, before the ladder reached +the ground, and then he seized the ropes and began to go up. The +ascent was a long one, for the tower was very high. He had not gone +up many steps, when he heard a noise somewhere above his head. He +shuddered and listened. It was nothing but an owl that had its nest +in some hole in the wall; doubtless it had been frightened by the +ladder, and now it flew away with a loud screech, grazing Hussein +with its wings as it passed. + +"Hussein, though brave, felt his limbs quake with fear; was it not an +evil omen? Would not something happen now that he was about to reach +the goal of his happiness! + +"Was it not possible that the eunuch had betrayed him? No, that could +not be; this man had always been so fond of Ayesha. A thousand dismal +thoughts crowded through his brain; the way up in the midst of the +darkness seemed everlasting. He looked towards the lighted window; he +was only half-way up. + +"Just then he thought he heard something creak. Was it the rope +breaking beneath his weight? Frightened, he hastened to climb up; if +there was any danger it would soon be over. + +"He muttered a few verses of the Koran; he looked up again; now he +could see Ayesha's face at the open window; she stretched forth her +arms towards him. How beautiful she was! There, in the darkness, it +seemed as if all the constellations had hidden themselves before her +radiant beauty. + +"He stopped one moment to take breath and to look at her, when again +he heard the ropes creak, and at the same moment the ladder snapped +under the young man's weight. He lifted up his arms towards her, but +alas! she was beyond his grasp. The next instant he fell with a heavy +thud upon the rocks, and from those into the yawning precipice over +which the castle was built. + +"Ayesha uttered a loud cry, which was repeated several times by the +surrounding echoes, and then she swooned away in the eunuch's arms. + +"Velagic, who, apparently, had been hidden close by, saw Hussein fall +into the chasm, and heard Ayesha's cry; then he mounted his horse and +galloped away. + +"When Ayesha, with the help of the eunuch, got over her faintness, +she went to the window and looked down, but she could only see the +darkness of the chasm below. She listened; she heard nothing but the +wind, the rustling of the leaves, and now and then the screech of +some night-bird. She pulled up the ladder; she saw that it had been +cut in several places, at one of which it snapped. She understood +that some foul treachery had been committed, but she could not make +out who had discovered their secret and had dealt her this cruel +wrong. She could not suspect the eunuch, who was there by her side, +her friend to the last. + +"She passed a night of most terrible anguish and anxiety, waiting +impatiently, and still dreading the morrow. She tried to hope that +Hussein might not have fallen down the chasm, that he might have been +caught by some of the trees or bushes that grew on the rocks, and +thus saved from death; but it was, at best, only a faint kind of +forlorn hope. + +"Not a cry, not a groan escaped from her lips, as she stood cold and +tearless, at her window, almost stupefied by the intensity of her +grief. Thus she remained motionless and dumb for hours, until the +first rays of dawn lighted the tops of the Veli-Berdo, the mountain +over the fortress. + +"Her eyes pierced the faint glimmering of the dawn, and, looking down +into the chasm, at the place where the two torrents meet, there she +saw three lovely maidens of superhuman beauty, tending the remains of +her lover. By their garments, of the colour and splendour of +emeralds, by their faces shining like burnished silver, she knew that +they were celestial houris, and that her lover was already amongst +the blessed. + +"When she saw this sight, she wanted to dash herself down into the +chasm and rejoin her happy lover, hoping that Allah would be merciful +and allow her to meet Hussein in the abode of the blessed; but then +one of the houris beckoned to her to stop, and in a twinkling she was +by her side, whispering words of comfort in her ear. + +"Her attendants, whom she had dismissed in the early evening, came +back to her early in the morning, and they were surprised to see she +had fainted by the window. + +"When she recovered from her swoon, every recollection of that +terrible night seemed to have passed away; far from being bereaved +and forlorn, she was a happy maiden, about to be united to her lover +in eternal bliss. + +"Later on in the day her father summoned her to his presence, to tell +her that the _Dizdar_ of Stermizza had brought the three hundred +Christian heads demanded as the price for her hand, and that she was +to get ready to receive him as the man who was to be her husband. + +"Ayesha crossed her hands on her breast and bowed; then she uttered, +in a soft, slow voice, that sounded as an echo of a distant sound: + +"'My lord, it shall be as Kismet has ordained.' + +"As Kuna Hassan knew nothing of all that had happened, he thought +that his daughter meant that she was ready to obey the decrees of the +Fates, that had chosen Velagic for her husband; so he answered: + +"'Though he would not have been the man I should have chosen for +thee, still, by his bravery, he has won thee for his bride; so +prepare yourself to go with him this very evening. But, daughter of +my heart,' added he, taking her hand, 'before parting with your +father, have you no request to make?' + +"'Yes, father.' + +"'Well, let me hear it, my child, and if it is in my power to grant +it, you may be sure that your wish will be gratified.' + +"'My request, though strange indeed, is a very simple one; it is that +my betrothal should take place this evening, on the Poto-devi-Most, +just when the sun gilds with its rays the snowy peaks of the +Veli-Berdo. This, and nothing more.' + +"The father looked at his child, astonished. + +"'It is, indeed, a strange request, and were it not for the earnest +way in which it is made, I should think that it was merely a joke. +Anyhow, it shall be as you wish; only, may I know why you do not wish +to be married in the usual way?' + +"'I have had a vision at day-break, and the powers above have decreed +that it shall be so; but I cannot speak about it till this evening, +at the appointed place.' + +"The _Aga_, wishing the ceremony to be performed with the utmost +splendour, sent word at once to the _Dizdar_ of Stermizza to be on +the Bridge of the Two Torrents at the appointed time. Similar +messages were likewise sent to the other _Dizdars_ and _Sirdars_, and +to all the gentry of Knin and of the neighbouring towns. + +"The sun was sinking down below the horizon when Ibrahim Velagic, +followed by Mujo Jelascovic, by the old _Bulju Pasha_, who was as yet +ignorant of his son's fate, by the other Mussulman warriors, as well +as by a number of _svati_--all came to the bridge, attired in +magnificent clothes of silk and satin, laced in gold, with their +finest weapons glittering with precious stones. Then came Kuna Hassan +Aga, with all his train and a number of slaves, some carrying a +palanquin, the others the bridal gifts. + +"When the two parties had met at the bridge, all wondering what would +take place next, Ayesha ordered the slaves to put her down. + +"Velagic at once dismounted from his horse, and came forward to help +her to alight, offering her his hand. + +"She simply waved him off, and standing up: 'How dare you come to me! +Look at your hand; it is stained with blood; and not with Christian, +but with Moslem blood.' + +"The eyes of the bystanders were all turned upon the _Dizdar_ of +Stermizza, who got all at once of a livid hue; still, he lifted up his +hand and said: + +"'Ayesha, my hands have often been stained with the blood of our +enemies, never with that of our brethren.' + +"'Man,' said the young girl, 'in the name of the Living God, thou +liest!' + +"There was a murmur and a stir amongst the crowd, as when the slight +wind which precedes the storm rustles amongst the leaves of the +trees. + +"Then Ayesha, turning towards Sarè: 'Father,' said she to him, 'your +hand.' + +"The _Bulju Pasha_ rushed forward and helped her to alight. + +"As soon as she was on the ground she threw off her veil and her +_feredgé_, and stood there in her glittering bridal dress, the +costly jewels of which seemed to shine less than her beautiful face. + +"All the men were astounded at such an act of boldness from so modest +a maiden; but her dazzling beauty seemed to fill them with that awe +which is felt at some supernatural sight. They all thought they were +looking upon a houri, or some heavenly vision, rather than upon a +human being; so that when she opened her lips again to speak, a +perfect silence reigned everywhere. + +"'Sarè,' said she, 'where is your son?' + +"'My child?' replied the old man; 'I have not see him the whole of +this long day.' + +"'Ibrahim Velagic, _Dizdar_ of Stermizza, where is Hussein, the +standard-bearer?' + +"'How am I to know? Am I his keeper?' + +"'Sarè,' continued the young girl, 'when, after the fight of +Ostrovizza, my father had promised me as the bride of the warrior who +would bring him the head of the brave Christian knight Jancovic +Stoyan, or those of three hundred of our foes, Hussein, your son, by +the machinations of Ibrahim Velagic and his friends, was excluded +from amongst the warriors who could obtain my hand by fighting for +our faith and our country. Sarè, I loved your son; yes, father, I +say it aloud and unblushingly, for Hussein was as good as he was +handsome, and as brave as he was good. I loved him with all my heart, +and he loved me, because the Fates had decreed that we should be man +and wife, if we lived. Our faith, therefore, was plighted. We waited, +hoping that some happy incident would happen to free me from my +impending fate. At last I knew that Ibrahim Velagic had got together +the number of heads demanded by my father for my dower, and that +to-day he was coming to claim me as his bride. Rather than be the +wife of that imposter, felon and murderer, I should have thrown +myself in yonder chasm. + +"'You are astonished at such language; but, father, how is it that +all the warriors aspiring to my hand cannot put together a hundred +heads, whilst Velagic alone has three hundred? + +"'Well, then, know that those heads are by no means the heads of our +enemies; they are rather those of the unhappy beings who of late have +been seduced by Nedurè, the witch, into her den, and who after their +rash act never saw daylight again. Look at those ghastly heads, and +perhaps many of you will find there people that you have known.' + +"At these words, stirred to rage at the light of truth which gleamed +from Ayesha's eyes, there was such a yelling and hissing, that it +seemed as if all the men there had been changed into snakes. They +would have thrown themselves on the _Dizdar_ and torn him to pieces +there and then, had Ayesha not stopped them. + +"'Forbear,' said she, 'and hear me out; wait at least for the proofs +I shall give you of his guilt.' + +"'Ayesha!' cried out old Sarè, overcome by anguish, 'and my son +--where is my son? Is my beautiful boy's head amongst the three +hundred?' + +"'No; brave Hussein withstood long ago the enticement of the witch, +and she has been since then his bitterest enemy.' + +"Sarè heaved a deep sigh of relief. + +"'Hussein was to deliver me from that heinous wretch. Last night we +were to flee together. I had the houris to help me, but alas! Ibrahim +Velagic had the powers of darkness. It was night, and he won. Hussein +yesternight was under my windows, as we had agreed upon. I opened my +lattice and lowered him a ladder of ropes, upon which he was climbing +joyfully; a moment more he would have reached the windowsill. All at +once, an owl screeched, the ropes gave way, and Hussein, my brave +Hussein, was dashed down those rocks and into the dreadful chasm. +Sarè, my poor Sarè, you have no son. Still, be of good cheer; this +morning, when the first rays of the sun were gilding the tops of the +Veli-Berdo, I saw the celestial maidens tending him. His mangled body +is in the chasm, but his soul is in the blessed abode of peace.' + +"'Ayesha,' interrupted the _Aga_, 'is all this true?' + +"The girl beckoned to a slave to approach, and then she took a parcel +from his hands. + +"'This,' said she, opening it, 'is what remains of the ladder; and +you will find Hussein's body in the chasm, smiling in the happy sleep +of death. The houris, who have been praying over him the whole day, +have covered him with garlands of flowers. Go and dig his grave in +the burying-ground, and dig another one by his side.' + +"'But,' said Kuna Hassan, 'how did the accident happen?' + +"'Nedurè hated Hussein, but she could not harm him, so she apprised +Velagic of what was to happen; nay, she did more, she transformed him +into the likeness of a rat, and changing herself into an owl, she +deposited the _Dizdar_ on the sill of my room, there he came and +gnawed at the ropes of the ladder.' + +"'This is false,' said the _Dizdar_. 'Whoever can believe such a +story? Why, the girl is mad!' + +"'Guards,' said the _Aga_, with his hand on the haft of his dagger, +'seize Velagic, and mind that you do not let him escape!' + +"'Away!' replied the _Dizdar_. 'A man of my rank can only be judged +by the Sultan.' + +"'Stop!' cried Ayesha; then, lifting her beautiful arm, naked up to +the shoulder, and whiter than the strings of pearls entwined around +it, and pointing towards the highway: + +"'Do you see there a cloud of dust on the road? Do you see those men +coming here? Do you know who they are? You cannot distinguish them, +but I can.' + +"'Who are they, Ayesha?' cried all the bystanders. + +"'The foremost man amongst them, that tall and handsome youth, that +looks like Prince George of Cappadocia, is no less a hero. It is +Stoyan Jancovic, the man whose back you never saw; the others are but +a few of his followers.' + +"Then, turning to Velagic: 'Now, craven, utter your last prayer, if +you can and if you dare, then prepare to fight; your hour has come.' + +"Hearing these words, the _Dizdar_ grew ashy pale; then he began to +quake with fear. Such an overpowering dread filled his soul that he +seemed to have been smitten with a strong fit of the ague. Still, +trying to hide his anxiety: + +"'Yes, we shall fight; Allah be thanked, brothers, that this infidel +dog is within our reach. Yes, friends, we shall see the power of the +Crescent over the Cross.' + +"'No; you shall fight alone,' said Ayesha, authoritatively; 'and it +is useless to contaminate the name of the All-powerful. As you are +already doomed to perdition, call to your aid Sheytan and Nedurè.' + +"Ayesha had hardly uttered these words when Stoyan, having made a +sign to his companions to keep back, rode boldly up to where the +chiefs were standing, and, when a few steps from Ayesha, he curbed +his foaming steed, that, unable to brook control, began at once to +paw the ground. + +"'Maiden,' said he, bowing, 'I am here at thy behest. I have this +night had a strange dream. A _Vila_ appeared to me in my sleep, first +in the likeness of a nightingale and then in the shape of a dainty, +glittering little snake. She told me that for your sake I had to +accomplish, this very day, two mighty deeds of justice. The one was +to rid this neighbourhood of the evil doings of Nedurè, the powerful +witch. This is already done.' + +"Thereupon, loosening a silken scarf attached to his saddle, he threw +the sorceress's head at the _Dizdar_'s feet. + +"'Now,' said he, turning to Velagic, 'you who have been her +accomplice--you who brag to have killed three hundred Christians, +who, while skulking away like a cur, dare to say that you have been +looking everywhere for me, to slay me--here I am.' + +"Appalled at the sight of the witch's hideous head, terrified by the +hero's words, shaking like an aspen leaf, full of dread and +consternation, Velagic looked up at his companions for help; but on +their faces he saw nothing but angry scowls, looks of scorn and +hatred. + +"'Fight,' cried the _Aga_, 'or a worse death awaits thee, the +ignominious death of a murderer and a sorcerer! Fight, coward, fight! +for if thou fallest not by that brave man's hand, thou shalt this +very day be impaled as a wizard.' + +"The _Dizdar_, seeing that there was no escape, plucked up his +courage in his own defence, called the powers of darkness to his +help, and unexpectedly rushed upon Stoyan, hoping to catch him off +his guard, and to despatch him with a treacherous blow of his +scimitar. + +"'Fair play! fair play!' shouted the chiefs. + +"'The laws of chivalry, gentleman, are not expected to be known by a +vile recreant like Ibrahim Velagic,' quoth Stoyan, whose keen eye +forthwith saw the stroke, and whose deft hand not only parried it, +but dealt his adversary such a mighty blow that it cut off the +_Dizdar_'s head and sent it rolling on the ground by the side of +Nedurè's. + +"'And now, beautiful maiden, the task you have enjoined me is done; +would to God thou hadst called upon me before.' + +"'I thank thee, gentle knight,' said Ayesha, who all the time had +been standing on the parapet of the old stone bridge. 'Thou hast +avenged my lover's death; may Heaven reward thee for thy deed.' + +"'_Allah, bismillah!_' cried out the chiefs. + +"Thereupon Stoyan, bowing courteously, wheeled round his horse and, +galloping away, was soon out of sight. + +"'And now,' said Ayesha, 'I had sworn to Hussein, that flower of +youth and beauty, to be his for ever. Now I shall keep my vow. May +the Most Merciful unite me to my lover. God of my fathers, God of +Mohamed, receive me amongst the blessed.' + +"Thereupon, lifting a small dagger which she held in her hand, she +plunged it into her heart, and before her father had time to rush up +to her, she had fallen into the torrent underneath, dyeing its waters +of a crimson hue, just as the last rays of the sinking sun seemed to +tinge in blood the lofty tops of the Veli-Berdo. + +"From that day the Bridge of the Two Torrents has ever been called +the Bullin-Most, or the Bridge of the Turkish Maiden, and every +evening, when the day is fine, the sun sheds a blood-red light on the +highest peaks of the Dinara, and the wind that, at gloaming, blows +down the dell and through the arches of the bridge, seems to waft +back an echo of the last moan of the _Aga_'s beautiful daughter." + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +SEXAGESIMA + + +The days that followed the departure of the _pobratim_ were sad ones +indeed. The Zwillievics had gone back to Montenegro; then Milena, not +having any excuse to remain longer a guest of the Bellacics, was +obliged to go back with a sinking heart to her lonely, out-of-the-way +cottage; a dreary house which had never been a home to her. + +When the Christmas snow had melted away, a sudden strong gale of wind +dried up the sods, so that the grass everywhere was withered and +scorched; the very rocks themselves looked lean, pinched-up, bare and +sharp. All nature had put on a wizened, wolfish, wintry appearance. +The weather was not only cold, it was bleak and gloomy. + +After a fortnight of a dull, overcast sky, it began to drizzle; +everything smelt of mildew; the mouldy turf oozed with moisture, the +rotting trees dripped with dampness. The world was decaying. If at +times a ray of sunlight pierced the grey clouds, its pale yellow, +languid light brought with it neither warmth nor comfort. Evidently +the sun was pining away, dying; our bereaved planet was moaning for +the loss of his life-giving light. + +During all this time the dull sirocco never ceased to blow, either in +a low, unending wail, or in louder and more fitful blasts. Usually, +as soon as one gust had passed away, a stronger one came rolling down +the mountain side, increasing in sound as it drew nearer; then +passing, it died away in the distance. + +These booming blasts made every mother think of her sailor boy, +tossed far away on the raging mountain waves; wives lighted candles +to St. Nicholas, for the safety of their husbands; whilst the girls +thought of their lovers by day, and at night they dreamt continually +of flowers, babies, stagnant waters, white grapes, lice and other +such omens of ill-luck. + +For poor, forlorn Milena, those days were like the murky morning +hours that follow a night of revelry. She was dull, down-hearted, +dispirited; nor had she, indeed, anything to cheer her up. In her +utter solitude, she spun from the moment she got up to the moment she +went to bed; interrupting herself only to eat a crust of bread and +some olives, or else to mope listlessly. At times, however, her +loneliness, and the utter stillness of her house, oppressed her in +such a way that it almost drove her to distraction. + +She mused continually over all the events of her life during the last +months, after her merry girlhood had come to an end by that hateful +and hasty marriage of hers; she recalled to mind that time of misery +with her old miserly mother-in-law, who even counted the grains of +parched Indian-corn she ate. Still, soon after this old dame's death, +came that fated St. John's Eve. It was the first ray of sunlight in +the gloom of her married life. It was also the first time she had +seen Uros. + +She had not fallen in love with him that evening; she had only liked +him because he was good-looking and his ways were so winning. +Everybody was fond of him, he was so winsome. + +Little by little, after that, his presence began to haunt her, his +face was always before her eyes. When she woke in the morning, his +name was on her lips. Still, that was not love; she even fancied she +only liked to teaze him because she was a married woman, a matron, +whilst he was but a boy; moreover, he was so shy. + +When Radonic came home, she woke to the stern reality of life; she at +last found out that she hated her husband and loved Uros, who, though +a boy, was, withal, older than herself. That was the time when +Radonic's rage being roused by Vranic, he had almost killed Milenko. +Then, lastly, shuddering and appalled, she remembered that night when +Uros came to sing his farewell song. + +She stopped spinning now; the corners of her pretty, childish mouth +were drawn down; she hid her face between her hands, whilst the tears +trickled slowly through her fingers. + +Why had she been so foolishly weak? Now the thought of that night +drove her mad. Could she but blot away the past months and begin life +anew! + +Alas! what was done could never be undone. She rocked herself on her +stool in a brown study. What was she to do? What was to become of +her? + +Radonic would return in a few months; then he would kill her. That, at +least, would put a stop to her misery. But the thought of having to +live for months in mortal dread was worse than death itself. The +maddest thoughts came to her mind. She would leave Budua, dress up as +a boy, go off to Cattaro, embark for some distant town. And then? + +Far away the people spoke a gibberish she could not understand, and +they were heathens, who even ate meat on fast-days. These thoughts, +in her loneliness, were almost driving her to distraction, when, +unexpectedly, her husband came back home. His ship, in a tempest, had +been dashed against a reef, off the shores of Ustica, the westernmost +of the Æolian Islands. Not only the vessel, but also the cargo, and +even two sailors, were lost. + +On seeing her husband appear before her, Milena felt all her blood +freeze within her veins. She had disliked Radonic from the very first +moment she had cast her eyes upon him; since her marriage her +antipathy had increased with his ill-treatment, so that now she +positively loathed him. + +Still, when the first moment of almost insurmountable dread was over, +she heaved a deep sigh of relief. His return was a godsend to her. +Had he not just come in time to save her from ignominy? She even +mastered herself so far as to make Radonic believe that she was glad +to see him, that she was longing for his return, and for a while he +believed it. Still, when his mouth was pressed on hers, as he clasped +her fondly in his arms, the kiss he gave her now was even worse than +the first one she had received from him on her wedding-day. It seemed +as if he had seared her lips with burning, cauterising steel. After a +day or two, she could not keep up this degrading comedy any longer; +her whole being revolted against it in such a way that Radonic +himself could not help noticing how obnoxious his presence was to +her. + +She was, however, glad about one thing. Her husband, having lost his +large vessel and all his costly cargo, for he had of late been +trading on his own account, would not be able to settle down in +Budua, as he had intended doing; then, being now quite poor, people +would not be envying her any more. What good had her husband's riches +done to her? None at all. + +Even in that she was doomed to disappointment. The widow of one of +the sailors who had got drowned at Ustica came to beg for a pittance. +She had several little children at home clamouring for bread. Milena +gave her some flour and some oil, and promised to speak to her +husband. + +"But," said she, "we, too, are very poor now." + +"Poor!" replied the woman. "Why, you are richer now than you ever +were." + +"How, if we've lost our ship with all its cargo?" + +"Yes, but it was insured." + +"Insured? What's that?" + +"You mustn't ask me, for I'm only a poor ignorant woman. Only they +say that when a ship is insured, you get far more money for it than +it was ever really worth." + +"And who is to give you money for a few planks rotting at the bottom +of the sea, or some stray spars washed ashore?" asked Milena, +incredulously. + +"Who? Ah! that's more than I can tell. Anyhow, I know it's true, for +all that." + +Milena, astonished, stared at the poor woman. She asked herself +whether grief had not muddled the widow's brain. No, she did not look +insane. + +"Who told you such foolish things, my poor Stosija?" said she, +enquiringly, after a while; "for you know very well that you are +speaking nonsense." + +"It is no nonsense, for the _pop_ himself told me." + +Milena's bewilderment increased. + +"Moreover, the priest added that insurances are one of the many +sacrilegious inventions which lead men to perdition." Then, lowering +her voice to a whisper: "They have a pact with Satan." + +Milena drew back appalled. + +"When a ship is insured the owners care very little what becomes of +the precious lives they have on board. The captains themselves get +hardened. They do not light any more tapers to St. Nicholas to send +them prosperous gales; the priests offer no more prayers for their +safety; and, as for silver _ex-votos_, why, no one thinks of them any +more. The _pop_ is so angry that he says, if he had his own way, he'd +excommunicate every captain, even every sailor, embarking on an +insured ship." + +"Mercy on us!" quoth Milena, crossing herself repeatedly. + +"In fact, since all these new-fangled, heathenish inventions, you +hear of nothing but fires on land and shipwrecks at sea. People once +went to bed as soon as it was dark; at eight o'clock every fire and +every light was put out. Now, people will soon be turning night into +day, as they do in Francezka and Vnetci (Venice), flying thus in the +very face of God Himself. Now all the rotten ships are sent to sea, +where they founder at the very first storm. It isn't true, perhaps?" + +"Aye, it must be true," sighed Milena, "if the _pop_ says so." + +"Once fires and shipwrecks were sent as punishments to the wicked, or +as trials to the good; now, with the insurances, God Himself has been +deprived of His scourge. The wicked prosper, the rich grow richer, +and as for the poor--even the Virgin Mary and all the saints turn a +deaf ear to them." + +Milena shook her head despondingly. + +"For instance," continued Stosija, "would the miser's heart ever have +been touched, had his barns been insured." + +"What miser?" asked Milena. + +"Is it possible that you don't know the story of 'Old Nor and the +Miser'?" + +"Oh! it's a story," added Milena, disappointed. + +"Yes, it's a story, but it's true for all that, for it happened at +Grohovo, and my grandfather, who was alive at that time, knew both +the miser and the idiot. Well, the miser--who had as much money as +his trees had leaves, and that is more than he could count--was one +day brewing _rakee_, when an old man, who lived on the public +charity, or in doing odd jobs that could be entrusted to him, stopped +at his door. + +"'I smell _rakee_,' said Old Nor" (ninny), "who, by-the-bye, was not +quite such an idiot as he was believed to be. + +"'Oh, you do!' quoth the miser, sneeringly. + +"'Yes,' said Nor, his eyes twinkling and his mouth watering. + +"'And I suppose you'd like to taste some?' + +"'That I should; will you give me a sip?' + +"'Why not?' + +"Thereupon the miser dipped a small ladle in a kettle of boiling +water and offered it to Old Nor. + +"The idiot drank down the hot water without wincing. + +"'It's good, isn't it?' asked the rich man. + +"'Delicious!' and the old man smacked his lips. + +"'It warms the pit of your stomach nicely?' + +"'It even burns it.' + +"'It's rare stuff, I can tell you; will you have some more?' + +"'It's of your own brewing, one can see; I'll have some more.' + +"The miser once more dipped the ladle in the hot water and offered it +again to the beggar, who quaffed the contents unflinchingly. + +"'You see, bad tongues say I'm a miser, but it's all slander; for +when I like a fellow, I'd give him the shirt off my back, and I like +you, Old Nor. Will you have another ladleful?' + +"'Willingly,' and the ninny's eyes flashed. + +"Thereupon he again swallowed up the scalding water, but not a muscle +of his face twitched. + +"'Are you not afraid it'll go to your head, old man?' asked the +miser, mischievously. + +"'Old Nor's head isn't muddled with so little,' added he, scowling. + +"'Then try another cup?' + +"'No,' replied the ninny, shaking his head, 'for to-day I've had +enough. As soon as the _Cesar_' (emperor) 'sends me the money he owes +me, and I marry the Virgin Mary--for that was his craze--I'll give +you something that'll warm the pit of your stomach, too.' + +"Then he turned round and went off without any thanks or wishing the +blessing of God on the miser's dwelling, as he was wont to do. + +"The miser's house was all surrounded by sheds, storehouses and +stables; barns groaning under the weight of corn, hay and straw; his +sacks were heaped with flour and wheat; his cellars overflowed with +wine and oil; in his dairies you could have bathed in milk, for he +neither lacked cows, nor sheep, nor goats. Well, not long after the +beggar had been scalded with hot water, a fire broke out in his +granaries at night, and all the wealth that was stored therein was +wasted by fire. + +"The miser grieved and lamented, but he soon had masons and +bricklayers come from all around, and in a short time they built him +finer stables, sheds and stores than the old ones; and after the +harvest was gathered, and the aftermath was garnered, and all the +outer buildings were filled, with the grace of God, a terrible fire +broke out one morning, and before the men could bring any help, for +the flames rose fiercely on every side like living springs that have +burst their flood-gates, so that the water poured down upon it only +scattered the fire far around, and the fine new buildings came +crumbling down with a crash, just like houses built upon sand. Then +the miser had new masons and bricklayers, and also architects and +engineers. Soon they built him stately store-houses of stone and +beautiful barns of bricks, higher, vaster and stronger than the +former ones. These granaries were like palaces, and a wonder in the +land. When the fruits of the field were gathered and the heart of the +miser was rejoiced at the sight of so much wealth, then, in the +middle of the day, as he was seated at table eating cakes overflowing +with honey, and quaffing down bumpers of wine, then the fire broke +out in his barns, and, behold, his buildings looked like a dreadful +dragon spouting and spurting sparks of fire, and vomiting out volumes +of smoke and flames. It was, indeed, a terrible sight. + +"The rich man saw at last that the hand of God was weighing upon him, +and he felt himself chastened. He cast about for some time, not +knowing what to do. So he took a fat calf and two lambs and a kid, +and killed them; and he cooked them; and he baked bread; and he +invited all his acquaintances, rich and poor, to a feast, where he +spared neither wine nor _slivovitz_; and he did not scald their +throats with hot water, but with his own strong _rakee_. Then, when +they had all eaten and were merry, he said to them: + +"'The Lord, in His mercy, has scourged me--for whom the Lord loveth +He chasteneth--He has given me a warning and a foretaste of what +might be awaiting me hereafter. Therefore, I am humbled, and I +submit; but if God has chosen any one among you to chastise me, +kindly tell me, and I swear, on my soul, on the Cross of our Saviour, +Who died for our sins, not only never to harm him, but to forgive him +freely.' + +"Thereupon Old Nor rose and said: + +"'_Gospod_, it is I who have burnt down your barns. One day I passed +by your door and begged you for a draught of the liquor you were +brewing; then you offered me scalding water, and when I gulped it +down you laughed at me because you thought me witless. Three times +did I drink down the fiery water you offered me; three times did I +consume with fire all the barns that surround your house. Still, I +only made you see, but not taste, fire, for I might have burned you +down in your house, like a rat in his hole, and then the pit of your +stomach would have been warm indeed; but I did not do so, because I +am Old Nor, and the little children jibe and the big children jeer at +me, and all laugh and make mouths at me.' + +"The rich man bowed down his head, rebuked. Then he stretched out his +arms and clasped the beggar to his breast, saying: + +"'Brother, you are, after all, a better and a wiser man than I am, +for if I was wicked to you, it was only out of sheer wantonness.' + +"Then he plied him, not with warm water, but with sparkling wine and +strong _slivovitz_, and sent him home jolly drunk. From that time he +mended his ways, gave pence to the poor, presents to the _pop_, +candles and incense to the Church. Therefore, he was beloved by all +who knew him, his barns groaned again with the gifts of God, his +flocks and his herds increased by His blessings. + +"Now, tell me. If the insurance company had paid him for the damage +every time his barns had been burnt, would he have been happy with +his ill-gotten wealth? No; his heart might have been hardened, and +Satan at last have got possession of his soul." + +That evening Milena referred to her husband all that Stosija had said +to her. Radonic scowled at his wife, and then he grunted: + +"The _pop_--like all priests, in fact--is a drivelling old idiot; so +he had better mind his own business, that is, mumble his meaningless +prayers, and not meddle with what he doesn't understand." + +"What! is there anything a _pop_ doesn't understand?" asked Milena, +astonished. + +Radonic laughed. + +"Oh! he'll soon see something that'll make his jaw fall and his eyes +start from their sockets." + +"And what's that?" + +"A thing which you yourself won't believe in--a ship without masts." + +"And what are its sails tied to?" + +"It needs no sails; it has only a big chimney, a black funnel, that +sends forth clouds of smoke, flames and sparks; then, two tremendous +wheels that go about splashing and churning the water into a mass of +beautiful spray, with a thundering noise; then, every now and then, +it utters a shrill cry that is heard miles away." + +"Holy Virgin!" gasped Milena; "but it must be like Svet Gjorgje's +dragon!" + +"Oh!" sneered Radonic, "St. George's dragon was but a toy to it." + +"And where have you seen this monster?" + +"It isn't a monster at all; it's a steamer. I saw one on my last +voyage. It came from the other side of the world, from that country +where the sun at midday looks just like a burnished copper plate." + +"Of course," added Milena, nodding, "if it's on the other side of the +earth, they can only see the sun after it's set. But where is that +place of darkness? Is it Kitay?" + +"Oh, no! it's Englezka." + +"But to return to what the _pop_ said. Then it's true that you'll get +more money for your ship even than what it was worth?" + +"Whether I get more or whether I get less, I'm not going to keep all +the beggars of the town with the money the insurance company will +give me. If sailors don't want their wives to go begging and their +brats to starve, they can insure their lives, or not get married. As +for Stosija, you can tell her to go to the _pop_, and not come +bothering here; though I doubt whether a priest will even say a +prayer for you without the sight of your money. Anyhow, to-morrow I +start for Cattaro, where I hope to settle the insurance business." + +On the morrow Radonic went off, and Milena heaved a deep sigh of +relief; for, although the utter loneliness in which she lived was at +times unbearable to her, still it was better than her husband's +unkindness. + +Alas! no sooner had Radonic started than Vranic came with his odious +solicitations, for nothing would discourage that man. In her +innocence she could rely on her strength, so she had spurned him from +her. She had till then never been afraid of any man. Was she not a +Montenegrin? She had, in many a skirmish, not only loaded her +father's guns, but also fired at the Turks herself; nor had she ever +missed her man. Still, since that fateful night all her courage was +gone. Was Vranic not a seer, a man who could peer into his fellow +creatures as if they were crystal? Did he not know that she had +sinned? He had told her that all her struggles were unavailing; she +was like the swallow when the snake fascinates it. She, therefore, +had been cowed down to such a degree that she almost felt herself +falling into his clutches. + +Not knowing what to do, she had gone to Mara, and had confessed part +of her troubles to her; she had asked her for help against Vranic. +Although Uros' mother did not dabble in witchcraft, still she was a +woman with great experience. So she thought for a while, and then she +gave Milena a tiny bit of red stuff, and told her to wear it under +her left arm-pit; it was the most powerful spell she knew of, and +people could not harm her as long as she wore it. She followed Mara's +advice; but Vranic was a seer, and such simples were powerless +against him. + +Radonic came back from Cattaro, and, by his humour, things must have +gone on well for him; still, strange to say, he brought no money back +with him. He only said he had put his money in a bank, so that he +might get interest for it, till such times when he should buy another +ship. + +"And what is a bank?" asked Milena, astonished. + +Radonic shrugged his shoulders, and answered peevishly, that she was +too stupid to understand such things. "Montenegrins," he added, "have +no banks, nor any money to put in banks; they only know how to fight +against the Turks." + +For a few days Milena asked all her acquaintances what a bank was, +and at last she was informed that it was like insurances, one of +those modern inventions made to enrich the rich. Putting money in a +bank was like sinking a deep well. After that you were not only +supplied for your lifetime, but your children and the children of +your children were then provided for; for who can drink the water of +a well and dry it up? + +For Milena, all these things were wonders which she could not +understand. She only sighed, and thought that Stosija was right when +she had said to her that this world was for the wealthy; the poor +were nowhere, not even in church. + +Although Radonic had come back, still Vranic, far from desisting from +his suit, became always more pressing; for he seemed quite sure that +she would never speak to her husband against him. Once more she went +to Mara and asked her for advice. + +"Why not mention the subject to your husband?" asked her friend. + +"First, I dare not; then, it would be quite useless. He would not +believe me; Vranic has him entirely under his power. In fact, I am +quite sure if Radonic is unbearable, it is the seer who sets him on +to bait me." + +"But to what purpose?" + +"Because he thinks that, sooner or later, I'll be driven to despair, +and find myself at his mercy. Though I'm no seer myself, still I see +through him." + +Withal Uros' mother was a woman of great experience, still, she could +not help her friend; she only comforted her in a motherly way, and +her heart yearned for her. + +As Milena, weary and dejected, was slowly trudging homewards, she +saw, not far from her house, a small animal leisurely crossing a +field. Was it a cat? She stood stock-still for a moment and stared. +Surely, it was neither a hare, nor a rabbit, nor a dog. It was a big, +dark-coloured cat! How her heart began to beat at that sight! + +At that moment she forgot that it was almost dusk, that the days were +still short, that the light was vanishing fast. She forgot that it +would be very disagreeable meeting Vranic--always lurking +thereabout--that her husband would soon be coming home. In fact, +forgetting everything and everybody, she began running after the cat, +which scampered off the moment it saw her. Still, the quicker the cat +ran, the quicker Milena went after it. + +Of course, she knew quite well, as you and I would have known, that +the cat was no cat at all, for real pussies are quiet, home-loving +pets, taking, at most, a stroll on the pantiles, but never go roaming +about the fields as dogs are sometimes apt to do. + +That cat, of course, was a witch--not a simple _baornitza_, but a +real sorceress, able to do whatever she chose to put her hand to. + +The nimble cat ran with the speed of a stone hurled from a sling, and +Milena, panting, breathless, stumbling every now and then, ran after +it with all her might. Several times the fleet-footed animal +disappeared; still, she was not disheartened, but ran on and came in +sight of it after some time. At last, she saw the cat run straight +towards a distant cottage. Milena slackened her speed, then she +stopped to look round. + +The cottage was built on a low muddy beach. She remembered having +been in that lonely spot once before with Uros; she had seen the +strand all covered with bloated bluish medusas, melting away in the +sun. + +With a beating heart and quivering limbs Milena stopped on the +threshold of the hut, and looked about her for the cat. The door was +ajar; perhaps it had gone in. For a moment she hesitated whether she +should turn on her heels and run off or enter. + +A powerful witch like that could, all at once, assume the most +horrible shape, and frighten her out of her wits! + +As she stood there, undecided as to what she was to do, the door +opened, as if by a sudden blast of wind, and there was no time to +retreat. Milena then, to her surprise, saw an old woman standing in +the middle of the hut. She was quietly breaking sticks and putting +them on a smouldering fire. As for the cat, it was, of course, +nowhere to be seen. + +The old woman, almost bent double by age, turned, and seeing Milena, +smiled. Her face did not express the slightest fear or ill-humour, +nay, she seemed as if she had been expecting her. + +"Good evening, _domlada_," said the old woman, with a most winning +voice, "have you lost your way, or is there anything you want of me?" + +Milena hesitated; had she been spoken to in a rough, disagreeable +manner, she would, doubtless, have been daunted by the thought that +she was putting her soul in jeopardy by having recourse to the witch; +but the woman's voice was so soft and soothing, her words so +encouraging, her ways so motherly, that, getting over her +nervousness, she went in at once, and, almost without knowing it, she +found herself induced to relate all her troubles to this utter +stranger. + +"First, if you want me to help you," said the old woman, "you must +try and help yourself." + +"And how so?" + +"By thinking as little as possible of a handsome youth who is now at +sea." + +Milena blushed. + +"Then you must bear your husband's ill-humour, even his blows, +patiently, and, little by little, get him to understand what kind of +a man Vranic is. Radonic is in love with you; therefore, 'the sack +cannot remain without the twine.' You must not fear Vranic; 'the +place of the uninvited guest is, you know, behind the door.' +Moreover, to protect you against him, I'll give you a most powerful +charm." + +Saying this, she went to a large wooden chest and got out of it a +little bag, which she handed to Milena. + +"In it," whispered the old woman, mysteriously, "there is some hair +of a wolf that has tasted human flesh, the claw of a rabid old cat, a +tiny bit of a murdered man's skull, a few leaflets of rue gathered on +St. John's Night under a gibbet, and some other things. It is a +potent spell; still, efficient as it is, you must help it in its +work." + +Milena promised the old woman to be guided entirely by her advice. + +"Remember never to give way to Vranic in the least, for, even with my +charm, if you listen to him you might become his prey. You must not +do like the dove did." + +"And what did the dove do?" + +"What! don't you know? Well, sit down there, and I'll tell you." + +"But I'm afraid I'll be troubling you." + +"Not at all; besides, I'll prepare my soup while I chat." + +"Still, I'm afraid my husband might get home and not find me; then----" + +"Then you'll keep him a little longer at the inn." + +Saying these words, the witch threw some vegetables in the pot +simmering on the hob, and on the fire something like a pinch of salt, +for at once the wood began to splutter and crackle; after that, she +went to the door and looked out. + +"See how it pours!" said she. "Radonic will have to wait till the +rain is over." + +Milena shuddered and crossed herself; she was more than ever +convinced that the old woman was a mighty sorceress who had command +over the wind and the rain. + +"Well," began the _stari-mati_, "once a beautiful white dove had +built her nest in a large tree; she laid several eggs, hatched them, +and had as many lovely dovelets. One day, a sly old fox, passing +underneath, began leering at the dove from the corner of his eye, as +old men ogle pretty girls at windows. The dove got uneasy. Thereupon, +the fox ordered the bird to throw down one of her young ones. 'If you +don't, I swear by my whiskers to climb up the tree and gobble you +down, you ----, and all your young ones.' + +"The poor dove was in sore trouble, and, quaking with fear, seeing the +fox lay its front paws on the trunk of the tree, she, flurried as she +was, caught one of her little ones by its neck and threw it down. The +fox made but a mouthful of it, grumbling withal that it was such a +meagre morsel. + +"'Mind and fatten those that are left, for I'll call again to-morrow, +and if the others are only skin and bones, as the little scarecrow +you've thrown me down is, you'll have, at least, to give me two.' + +"The fox went off. The poor dove remained in her nest, mourning over +her lost little one, and shuddering as she thought of the morrow. +Just then another bird happened to perch above the branch where the +dove had her nest. + +"'I say, dove,' said the other bird, 'what's up, that you are cooing +in such a dreary, disconsolate way?' + +"The dove thereupon related all that had happened. + +"'Oh, you simpleton! oh, you fool!' quoth the other bird, 'how could +you have been so silly as to believe the sly old fox? You ought to +have known that foxes cannot climb trees; therefore, when he comes +to-morrow, ordering you to throw him down a couple of your little +ones, just you tell him to come up himself and get them.' + +"The day after, when the fox came for his meal, the dove simply +answered: + +"'Don't you wish you may get it!' + +"And the dove laughed in her sleeve to see the fox look so sheepish. + +"'Who told you that?' said Reynard; 'you never thought of it +yourself, you are too stupid.' + +"'No,' quoth the dove, 'I did not. The bird that has built her nest +by the sedges near the river told it me.' + +"'So,' said the fox; and he turned round and went off to the bird +that had built her nest by the river sedges, without even saying +ta-ta to the dove. He soon found her out. + +"'I say, bird, what made you build your nest in such a breezy spot?' +said the fox, with a twinkling eye. + +"'Oh! I don't mind the wind,' said the bird. 'For instance, when it +blows from the north-east, I put my head under my left wing, like +this." + +"Thereupon, the bird put its head under its left wing, and peeped at +the fox with its right eye. + +"'And when it blows from the south-west?' asked the fox. + +"'Then I do the contrary.' + +"And the bird put its head under its right wing, and peeped at the +fox with its left eye. + +"'And when it blows from every side of the compass at once?' + +"'It never does,' said the bird, laughing. + +"'Yes it does; in a hurricane.' + +"'Then I cover my head with both my wings, like this.' + +"No sooner had the poor bird buried her head under both her wings, +than the sly old fox jumped at her, and ate her up. + +"But," said the witch, finishing her story, "if you are like the +dove, I'm not like the bird of the sedges; and Vranic would find me +rather tough to eat me up. And now, hurry home, my dear; if ever you +want me again, you know where to find me." + +The rain had ceased, and Milena, thanking the old woman for her +kindness, went off. She had been back but a few minutes when Radonic +returned home, ever so much the worse for drink. Not finding any +supper ready, he at first began to grumble; then, little by little, +thinking himself very ill-used, he got into a tremendous rage. Having +reached this paroxysm of wrath, he set to smash all the crockery that +he could lay his hands on, whilst Milena, terrified, went and shut +herself up in the next room, and peeped at him through the keyhole. + +When he had broken a sufficient number of plates and dishes, he felt +vexed at having vented his rage in such a foolish way, then to pity +himself at having such a worthless wife, who left him without supper, +and growing sentimental, he began to groan and hiccough and curse, +till he at last rolled off the stool on which he had been rocking +himself, and went to sleep on the floor. + +On the morrow the husband was moody, the wife sad; neither of them +spoke or looked at the other. The whole of that day, Milena--in her +loneliness--revolved within her mind what she would do to get rid of +Vranic's importunities, and, above all, how she could prevent him +from harming Uros, as he had threatened to do. + +The day passed away slowly; in the evening Radonic came home more +drunk than he had ever been, therefore maliciously angry and +spiteful. + +The front room of the house, like that of almost all other cottages, +was a large but dark and dismal-looking chamber, pierced with several +small windows, all thickly grated; the ceiling was raftered, and +pieces of smoked mutton, wreaths of onions, bundles of herbs, and +other provisions dangled down from hooks, or nails, driven in nearly +every beam. As in all country-houses, the hearth was built in the +very midst of this room, and the smoke, curling upwards, found an +outlet from a hole in the roof. That evening, as it was pouring and +blowing, the gusts of wind and rain prevented the smoke from finding +its way out. + +Milena was seated on a three-legged stool at a corner of the hearth, +by a quaint, somewhat prehistoric, kind of earthenware one-wick +oil-lamp, which gave rather less light than our night-lamps usually +do, though it flickered and sputtered and smoked far more. She was +sewing a very tiny bit of a rag, but she took much pride in it, for +every now and then she looked at it with the fond eyes of a girl +sewing her doll's first bodice. Hearing her husband's step on the +shingle just outside, she started to her feet, thrust the rag away, +looking as if she had almost been caught doing something very guilty. +After that she began mixing the soup boiling in the pot with great +alacrity. + +Radonic was not a handsome man at the best of times, but now, +besotted by drink, shuffling and reeling, he was positively +loathsome. He stopped for a moment on the sill to look at his wife, +grinning at her in a half-savage, half-idiotic way. + +Milena shuddered when she saw him, and turned her eyes away. He +evidently noticed the look of horror she cast on him, for holding +himself to the door-post with one hand, he shook the other at her, in +his increasing anger. + +"What have you been doing all the day?--gadding about, or sitting on +the door-step to beckon to the youths who pass by?" he said, in a +thick, throaty voice, interrupted every now and then with a drunken +hiccough. Then he let go the door-post and shuffled in. + +"A fine creature, a very fine creature, a slut, a good-for-nothing +slut, not worth the salt she eats! You hear, madam? you hear, +darling? it's to you I'm speaking." + +Milena stood pale, awe-stricken, twisting the fringe of her apron +round her fingers, looking at him with amazement. It was certainly +not the first time in her life that she had seen a drunken man; +still, she had never known anyone so fiendish when tipsy. + +"A nice kind of woman for a fellow to marry," he went on, "a thing +that stands twisting her fingers from morning to night, but who +cannot find time to prepare a little supper for a hungry man, in the +evening." Then, with a grunt: "What have you been doing the whole of +the live-long day?" + +Milena did not answer. + +"I say, will you speak? by the Virgin, will you speak? or I'll slap +that stupid sallow face of yours till I make it red with your blood." + +Milena did try to answer, but the words stuck in her throat and would +not come out. Radonic thought she was defying him. + +"Ah, you'll not answer! You were fooling about the town, or sitting +at the window eating pumpkin seeds, waiting for the dogs that pass to +admire those meaningless eyes of yours. They are dark, it's true, but +I'll make them ten times darker." + +Thereupon he made a rush at her, but, swift-footed as she was, she +ran on the opposite side of the room. She glanced at the door, but he +had shut and bolted it, therefore--being afraid that he might be upon +her before she managed to open it--she only kept running round the +hearth, waiting till chance afforded her some better way of escape. + +He ran after her for some time, but, drunk and asthmatic as he was, +he stopped at last, irritated by his non-success. Vexed at seeing a +faint smile on her lips, he took up a plate, that had been spared +from the day before, and shied it at her. She was too quick for him, +for she deftly moved aside, and the plate was smashed against an +oaken press. + +He gnashed his teeth with rage and showed her his fists; then he bent +down, picked up a log, and flourished it wildly about. She at once +made for the door. He flung the piece of wood at her with all his +might. She once more stooped to avoid it, but, in her eagerness to +get out, she was this time rather flurried; moreover, the missile +hurled at her was, this time, much bigger than the former one, so +that the log just caught her at the back of her head. She uttered a +shrill cry, and fell on the ground in a death-like swoon. + +Radonic, seeing Milena fall, thought he had killed her. He felt at +that moment such a terrible fright that it seemed to him as if a +thunderbolt had come down upon him. + +He grew deathly pale, his jaw fell, he began to tremble from head to +foot, just as when he had a fit of the ague. His teeth chattered, his +knees were broken, his joints relaxed. He had never in his whole life +felt such a fright. In a moment his drunkenness seemed to vanish, and +he was again in his senses. + +"Milena," said he, in a faint, quivering, moaning tone. "Milena, my +love!" + +She did not answer, she did not move; to all appearance she was dead. + +The muscles of his throat were twitching in such a way that he almost +fancied someone had stabbed him through the neck. + +Was she now worth her salt to him? he asked himself bitterly; aye, he +would give all his money to bring her back to life if he only could. + +He wanted to go up to her, but his feet seemed rooted to the spot +where he stood; with widely opened eyes he stared at the figure lying +motionless on the floor. Was the blood trickling from her head? A +moment afterwards he was kneeling down by her side, lifting her up +tenderly; for, brute as he was, he loved her. + +She was not dead, for her heart was beating still. Her head was +bleeding; but the cut was very slight, hardly skin deep. He began to +bathe her face with water, and tried to recall her to her senses. +Still her fainting-fit, owing, perhaps, to the state of her health, +lasted for some time; and those moments of torture seemed for him +everlasting. + +At last Milena opened her eyes; and seeing her husband's face bent +close upon hers, she shuddered, and tried to free herself from his +arms. + +"_Ljuba_," said Radonic, "forgive me. I was a brute; but I didn't +mean to harm you." + +"It's a pity you didn't kill me; then there would have been an end to +this wretched life of mine." + +"Do you hate me so very much?" + +"Have I any reason to love you?" + +"Forgive me, my love. I've been drinking to-night; and when the wine +gets to my head, then I know I'm nasty." + +"No, you hate me, and I know why." + +"Why?" + +"Vranic sets you against me; and when your anger is roused, and your +brain muddled, you come and want to kill me." + +Radonic did not reply. + +"But rather than torture me as you do, kill me at once, to please +your friend." + +Milena stopped for an instant; then she began again, in a lower tone: + +"And that man is doubtless there, behind that door, listening to all +that has happened." + +Radonic ground his teeth, clenched his fists, snorted like a +high-mettled horse, started up, and would have rushed to the door had +Milena not prevented him. + +"No," said she, "do not be so rash. Abide your time; catch him on the +hip." + +"Why does he hate you?" + +"Can't you guess? Did he not want to marry me?" + +Radonic groaned. + +"Oh! it would not be a difficult matter to turn Vranic into a friend; +but I prefer being beaten by you than touched by that fiend." + +Radonic started like a mad bull; and, not knowing what to do, he gave +the table such a mighty thump that he nearly shivered it. + +"Listen! Yesterday, when you had rolled on the floor, and were +sleeping away your drunken rage----" + +"Then?" + +"I went to sit on the doorstep----" + +"Well, go on." + +"A moment afterwards Vranic was standing in front of me." + +The husband's eyes flashed with rage. + +"Knowing that you would not wake, he begged me to let him come in. He +saw me wretched and forlorn; he would comfort me." + +"You lie!" He hissed these words out through his set teeth, and +caught hold of her neck to throttle her. Then, all at once, he turned +his mad rage against himself, and thumped his head with all his +strength, exclaiming: + +"Fool, fool, fool that I am!" Then, after a short silence, and with a +sullen look: "And you, what did you do?" + +"I got up, came in, and slammed the door in his face." + +Radonic caught his wife in his arms, and kissed her. + +"Tell me one thing more. Where were you yesterday evening?" + +She smiled. + +"Where do you think I was? Well, I'll tell you, because you'll never +guess. I was at the witch's, who lives down there by the sea shore." + +"What for?" + +"Because I'm tired of this life. I went to ask her for a charm +against your bosom friend." + +"And what can a foolish old woman do for you?" said the husband, +trying to put on a sceptical look. + +"I have not been all over the world as you have; still, I know that +our blood also is red." + +"And what did the _baornitza_ tell you?" + +"That a flowing beard is but a vain ornament when the head is light." + +Radonic shrugged his shoulders and tried not to wince. + +"Besides, she gave me this charm;" and showing him her amulet, she +begged him to wear it for a few days. "It will not do you any harm; +wear it for my sake, even if you don't believe in it," she pleaded +softly. + +Radonic yielded, and allowed Milena to fasten the little bag round +his neck, looking deep into her beautiful eyes uplifted towards his. +She blushed, feeling the fire of his glances. + +"And now," added she, with a sigh of relief, "he'll break his viper's +fangs against that bone, if our proverbs are true." + +Radonic tried to keep up his character of an _esprit-fort_, and said: +"Humbug!" but there was a catch in his voice as he uttered this word. + +"Now, I feel sure that as long as you have this talisman you'll not +open your mouth or reveal a single word of what I've told you." + +"Whom do you take me for?" + +"Yes, but at times our very eyes deceive us; moreover, Vranic is a +man to whom everybody is like glass. He reads your innermost +thoughts." + +"He is sharp; nothing more, I tell you." + +"Anyhow, that is a powerful charm, and if you'll only dissimulate----" + +"Oh! I can be a match for him if I like." + +"You must promise me one thing more." + +"What is it?" + +"No knives; no bloodshed." + +Radonic did not answer for a moment, but cast on Milena an angry +look, his hand seeking the handle of his knife. + +"Will you promise?" + +"Are you so fond of him that you are frightened I'll kill him?" + +"I hate him." + +"Then----" + +"Still, it is no reason to murder him." + +Radonic seemed lost in his own thoughts. + +"Moreover, he is weak and puny, whilst you are made of iron." She +laid her hand on his shoulder. "No knives, then; it's understood?" + +"I promise to use no knife." + +The morrow was a beautiful day; winter seemed already to be waking +from its short sleep. The sun was shining brightly, and as the breeze +was fresh and bracing, his cheerful warmth was pleasant, especially +for people who have to depend upon his rays for their only heat. +Spring seemed already to be at hand, and, in fact, the first violets +and primroses might have been seen glinting in sunny spots. + +Milena was returning from market, and her eyes were wandering far on +the wide expanse of glittering blue waters, but her thoughts, like +fleet halcyons, dived far away into the hazy distance, unfathomable +to the sight itself, and she hummed to herself the following song: + + "A crystal rill I fain would be, + And down the deep dell then I'd go; + Close to his cottage I would flow. + Thus every morn my love I'd see, + Oft to his lips I might be pressed, + And nestle close unto his breast." + +Then she sighed and tried not to think, for hers, indeed, was forlorn +hope. + +All at once she heard someone walking behind her, coming nearer and +nearer. She hastened her steps; still, the person who followed her +walked on quicker. + +"What a hurry you are in, Milena," said Vranic, coming up to her. + +"Oh! is it you?" she replied, with feigned surprise; then she +shuddered, thinking that she had not her amulet, and was at the mercy +of this artful man. "You frightened me." + +"Dear me, I'm afraid I'm always frightening you! Still, believe me, +I'd give my soul to the devil for one of your smiles, for a good word +from you, Milena." + +She shrugged her shoulders. + +"Children are deceived with cakes, women with sweet words, they say." + +He cast a sidelong glance at her. + +"You don't look well, to-day; you are pale." + +"Am I?" + +"Yes; what's the matter?" + +"How can I look well, with that brute of a husband of mine?" + +"Ah, yes! he got home rather the worse for drink yesterday evening, +didn't he?" + +"You ought to know; you were with him." + +"Well, yes, I was; at least, part of the evening." + +"And when he was as mad as a wild bull, you sent him home to me, +didn't you?" + +"I?" + +"Vranic, when will you finish persecuting me? What have I done to +you?" + +"Milena, it is true I am bad; but is it my fault? has not the world +made me what I am? Why have I not a right to my share of happiness as +other men?" + +"I am sorry for you, Vranic, but what can I do for you?" + +"You can do whatever you like with me, make me as good as a lamb." + +"How?" + +"Have pity on me; I love you!" + +"How can you say you love me, when you have tried to harm me in every +possible way?" + +"I was jealous; besides, I saw that you hated me, therefore you know +it was my only chance of success. In love and in war all means are +good." + +She shuddered; still, she managed to master herself and hide the +loathing she felt for him. + +"So you thought that, after having driven me to distraction----" + +"I should be your friend in need." + +"Fine friend." Then after a pause: "Anyhow, my present life is such +that, rather than bear it any longer, I'll go and drown myself some +day or other." + +"You'd never do that, Milena." + +"Why not? Therefore, if you care for me ever so little, use your +influence over Radonic, undo your work, get him to be a little less +of a brute than he has been of late." + +"And then you'll laugh at me?" + +"Who does good can expect better," and she tried to look at him less +harshly than she was wont to do, and did not turn her eyes away from +him. + +"No, Milena, first----" + +"What! first the pay, then the work? It would be against the +proverb." + +"Then promise me at least that you will try to love me a little?" + +"No," said she, with a toss of her pretty head, and a smile in her +mischievous, sparkling eyes; "I promise nothing." + +He thereupon took her hand and kissed it, saying: + +"I am making a poor bargain, for I am sure that your heart is empty." + +"If you cannot manage to awaken love in an empty heart, it will be +your fault; besides, you can always be in time to undo your work." + +"How so?" + +"You have me in your power, for Radonic, in your hands, is as pliable +as putty, is he not?" + +"Perhaps!" and the wrinkles of his cheeks deepened into a grim smile. + +"Then let my husband come home a little less cross than he has been +of late, will you?" she said, in a coaxing tone, and her voice had +for him all the sweetness of the nightingale's trill. + +"I'll try," and his blinking, grey-green eyes gloated upon her, +whilst that horrible cast in them made her shiver and feel sick; but +then she thought of Uros, and the idea that his life might be in +danger by the power this man wielded over her husband made her +conceal her real state of feelings and smile upon him pleasantly. + +He put his arm round her waist, and whispered words of love into her +ear, words that seemed to sink deep into her flesh and blister her; +and she felt like a bird, covered over with slime by a snake, before +being swallowed up. + +He, at that moment--withal he was a seer--fancied Milena falling in +his arms; his persevering love had conquered at last. Radonic would +now be sent away to sea again, perhaps never to come back, and he +would remain the undisputed master of Milena's heart. + +"Well, love me a little and I'll change your life from a hell into a +heaven. I'll read your slightest wish in your eyes to satisfy it." + +"Thank you," she said, shuddering, disengaging herself from his +grasp, but feeling herself growing pale. + +"What is the matter, my love?" he asked. + +"Nothing, only I told you I was not feeling well; my husband almost +killed me yesterday." + +"Well, I promise that it'll be the last time he touches you." + +They had now reached the door of her house, and Vranic, after having +renewed his protestations, went off, whilst Milena entered the house +and locked herself in. + +That evening Radonic came home rather earlier than usual. He was +sober, but in a sullen mood, and looked at Milena sheepishly. She set +the supper on the table and waited upon him; when he had finished, +she took the dish and sat down on the hearth to have her meal. + +"Well," quoth Radonic, puffing at his pipe, "have you seen Vranic +to-day?" + +"Yes, I met him when I was coming home from market." + +"Henceforth," said he, "I forbid you going to market again." + +"Very well," said she, meekly. + +"And?" + +"He accompanied me home." + +"And what did he say?" + +"That you were pulpy, therefore he could do with you whatever he +liked." + +"Ah! he said that, did he?" and in his rage Radonic broke his pipe. +"Then?" + +"He would first undo his work, make you as gentle as a lamb, then he +would send you off to sea, and----" + +Radonic muttered a fearful oath between his teeth. + +"Can't you understand? Has he not spoken well of me?" + +"He has, the villain, and it wanted all my patience not to clutch him +by the neck and pluck his vile tongue out of his mouth--but I'll bide +my time." + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +MURDER + + +A few days afterwards Milena heard a low whistle outside, just as if +someone were calling her; the whistling was repeated again and again. +She went to the open door, and she saw Vranic at a distance, +apparently on the watch for her. As soon as he saw her, he beckoned +to her to come out. She stepped on the threshold, and he came up to +her. + +"Good news, eh?" said he. + +"What news?" + +"Has Radonic not opened his mouth to you?" + +"He has hardly said a single word all these days." + +"Impossible!" + +"May I be struck blind if he has!" + +"Strange." + +"Well, but what is it all about?" + +"He told me it was a great secret; still, I did not believe him." + +"But what is this great secret?" + +"He is going off to Montenegro for a day or two, as he has to buy a +cargo of _castradina_. Of course, he'll stay a week; and as soon as +he comes back, he'll start at once on a long voyage." + +"I don't believe it!" + +"Yes, he is; and it's all my own doing. Now you can't say that I +don't love you, Milena, can you?" + +She did not give him any answer. + +"You don't seem glad. Once you'd have been delighted to have a +reprieve from his ill-treatment." + +"Yes, but now he's only moody. He hasn't beaten me for some days." + +"I told you he was as manageable as putty. Like all bullies, you can +shave him without a razor, if you only know how to go about it." + +"Yes; only beware. Such men never keep shape--at least, not for any +length of time." + +"He'll keep shape till he goes, for that's to-morrow; then----" and he +winked at her as he said this. + +"Come, Vranic, be kind for once in your life." + +"Has anybody ever been kind to me?" + +"'Do good, and don't repent having done it; do evil, and expect +evil,' says the proverb." + +"I never do anything for nothing; so to-morrow night I'll come for my +reward." + +"Leave me alone, Vranic; if not for my sake, do it for your own good. +Fancy, if Radonic were to return. Surely you wouldn't shave him quite +as easily as you think." + +"I'll take the risk upon myself. I have lulled all his suspicions, so +that he has now implicit trust in you. Besides, I'll first see him +well out of the town with my own eyes; Vranic is not a seer for +nothing," and he winked knowingly with his blinking eyes. + +"You don't know Radonic: if you are a fox, he is no goose. He is +capable of coming back just to see what I am doing." + +"I think I know him a little better than you do, and a longer time. +We have been friends from childhood; in fact, all but _pobratim_." + +"That's the reason why you are ready to deceive him, then?" + +"What business had he to marry you? What would I not do for your +love, Milena? Why, I'd give my soul to Satan, if he wanted it." + +"I'm afraid it's no longer yours to give away. But come, Vranic, if +you really are as fond of me as you pretend to be, have some pity on +me, be kind; think how wretched my whole life has hitherto been, +leave me alone, forget me." + +"Ask me anything else but that. How can I forget you? How can I +cease loving you, when I live only for you? I only see through your +eyes." + +"Then I'll ask Radonic to take me to Montenegro with him, and I'll +remain with my family." + +"And I'll follow you there. You don't understand all the strength of +my love for you." + +Thereupon, forgetting his usual prudence, he stepped up to her, and +passing his arm round her waist, he strained her to his breast, and +wanted to kiss her. She wriggled and struggled, and tried to push him +away. + +"Unhand me," she said, alarmed; "unhand me at once, or I'll scream." + +"Lot of good it'll do you. Come," he replied, "remember your promise. +I've kept my part, try and keep yours with good grace or----" + +"What?" she asked, alarmed. + +"Or by the holy Virgin, it'll be so much the worse for you! I know----" +he stopped, and then he added: "In fact, I know what I know. +Remember, therefore, it is much better to have Vranic for your friend +than for your foe." + +"Mind, you think me a dove." + +"I only know that women have long hair and little brains. Try and not +be like most of them." + +"Mind, I might for once have more brains than you; therefore, I +entreat you, nay, I command you, not to try and see me to-morrow." + +"As for that, I'll use my own discretion." + +Saying these words, he went off, and left Milena alone. As soon as he +had disappeared, she went in, and sank down on the hearth; there, +leaning her elbows on her knees, she hid her face between her palms; +then she began nursing her grief. + +"They say I am happy," she muttered to herself, "because I am rich +--though I have not a penny that I can call my own--because I can eat +white bread every day. Yet would it not be better by far to be an +animal and graze in the fields, than eat bread moistened with my own +tears? Oh! why was I not born a man? Then, at least, I might have +gone where I liked--done what I pleased. + +"They think I am happy, because no one knows what my life has been; +though, it is true, what is a woman's life amongst us? + +"She toils in the field the whole of the live-long day, whilst her +husband smokes his pipe. She is laden like a beast of burden; she is +yoked to the plough with an ox or an ass, and when they go to pasture +she trudges home with the harness, to nurse the children or attend to +household work. Meanwhile, her master leisurely chats with his +friends at the inns, or listens to the _guzlar_. + +"What is her food? The husks that dogs cannot eat, the bones which +have already been picked. If Turkish women have no souls, they, at +least, are not treated like beasts during their lifetime. + +"Oh! holy Virgin, why was I not born a man?" + +That evening Radonic came home more sullen and peevish than usual; +still, he was sober. He sat down to supper, and Milena waited upon +him. As soon as he had pushed his plate away: + +"Have you seen Vranic to-day?" he asked, gruffly. + +"I have," answered the wife, meekly. + +"Ah, you have!" and he uttered a fearful oath. + +Milena crossed herself. + +"And where have you seen him?" + +"He came here at the door." + +"May he have a fit to-night," he grunted. Then, after a puff at his +pipe: "And what did he say?" + +"That you intended starting to-morrow morning for Montenegro, to buy +_castradina_, and----" + +Radonic gave such a mighty thump on the table that the _bukara_ was +upset. It rolled and fell to the ground before it could be caught. +Milena hastened to pick it up, but the wine was spilt. The husband +thereupon, not knowing how to vent his spite, gave a kick to the poor +woman just as she stooped to pick it up. She slipped and fell +sprawling to the ground, uttering a stifled groan. Then she got up, +deathly pale, and went to sit down in a corner of the room, and began +to cry unperceived. + +"And what did you answer when he told you that I was starting?" + +"I begged him to leave me in peace, and above all not to come +to-morrow evening, if his life was dear to him." + +"Ah! you begged him, did you? Well, if ever man was blessed with a +foolish wife, I am." + +A moment's silence followed, after which he added: + +"What a fool a man is who gets married--above all, a sailor who takes +as his wife a feather-brained creature, as you are. May God hurl a +thunderbolt at me if I'd marry again were I but free." + +Poor Milena did not reply, for she was inured to such taunts, Radonic +being one of those men who pride themselves on speaking out their own +minds. She kept crying quietly--not for the pain she felt, but +because she dreaded the fatal consequences of the kick she had just +received. + +"Will you stop whimpering, or I'll come and give you something to cry +for. It's really beyond all powers of endurance to hear a woman whine +and a pig squeak; if there is a thing that drives me mad, it's that." + +Thereupon Radonic began to puff at his pipe savagely, snarling and +snorting as he smoked. + +"And may I ask why you begged that double-faced, white-livered friend +of yours not to come to-morrow evening?" he asked, after some +minutes. + +"Vranic was never a friend of mine," said Milena, proudly. + +"Admitting he wasn't, still you haven't answered my question; but I +suppose it doesn't suit you to answer, does it?" + +"Why not? I begged him not to come because I was afraid some mischief +might ensue, withal you promised me not to be rash." + +"I promised you, did I? Anyhow, I find that you take a great interest +in this friend of mine, far more than it becomes an honest woman." +Then, with a scowl and a sneer: "If you _are_ honest." + +Milena winced, and grew deathly pale. She did not give her husband +any answer, so he, after grunting and grumbling and smoking for some +time, got up and went to bed. She, however, remained where she was +seated--or rather crouched--for she knew that she could not sleep. + +How could she sleep? + +First, she was not feeling well. The kick she had received in her +side had produced a slight, dull, gnawing soreness; moreover, she +felt--or at least she fancied she could feel--a gnawing pain; it was +not much of a pain, only it seemed as if a watch were ticking there +within her. She shuddered and felt sick, a cold sweat gathered on her +brow, and she trembled from head to foot. + +Some women in her state--she had heard--never got over the +consequences of a blow; perhaps the kick might produce mortification, +and then in a few days she would die. Yes, she felt as if she had +received an inward incurable bruise. Well, after all, it was but +right; she had deceived her husband; he had revenged himself. Now +they were quits. + +Still tears started to her eyes, and sobs rose to her throat. + +Well, after all, she thought, what did it matter if she died? This +wretched life would be over. + +Only---- + +Only what? + +Yes, she avowed it to herself; she longed to see Uros' fond face once +more before dying. With her hand locked in his, her eyes gazing upon +him, death would have almost been bliss. + +With a repressed and painful yearning, her lover's name at last +escaped her lips. + +Radonic, who had been snoring as if he was about to suffocate, +uttered a kind of snorting sound, then he started and woke with a +fearful curse on his lips. + +Milena, shuddering, uttered a half-stifled cry. + +"What is the matter?" she asked. + +"Nothing, I was only dreaming. I thought that a young sailor, whom I +once crippled with a kick, had gripped me by my neck, and was choking +me." + +"It must have been the _morina_" (the nightmare) "sitting on you," +and Milena crossed herself. + +"How is it you are not in bed?" he asked, scowling. + +She did not speak for an instant. + +He started up to look at her. + +"Perhaps that villain is sneaking about the house, and you wish to +warn him?" + +"Your jealousy really drives you mad." + +"Well, then, will you speak? Why are you not yet in bed?" + +"I--I don't feel exactly well." + +"Why, what's the matter?" + +"The kick you gave me," she retorted, falteringly. + +"Why, I hardly touched you! well, you are getting mighty delicate; +you ought to have had the kick I gave that sailor lad, then you would +have known the strength of my foot!" + +"Yes, but----" She checked herself, and then added: "Women are +delicate." + +"Oh! so you are going to be a grand lady, and be delicate, are you? +Who ever heard of a Montenegrin being delicate?" Then he added: "If +you don't feel well, go to bed and try to sleep." + +Thereupon he turned on the other side, and began to snore very soon +afterwards. + +Milena began to think of what had been and might have been. + +She had sinned, foolishly, thoughtlessly; but since that fatal night +she had never known a single moment's happiness. As time passed, the +heinousness of her sin rose up before her, more dreadful, more +appalling. + +Still, was it the sin itself, or its dire consequences, that rendered +her so moody, so timorous? + +She never asked herself such a question; she only knew that she now +started, like a guilty thing, at the slightest noise, and she +shivered if anybody spoke to her abruptly. At times she fancied +everybody could read her guilt in her face. + +She had been more than once tempted, of late, to tell her husband +that, in some months, she would be a mother. Still, the words had +ever stuck in her throat; she could never nerve herself enough to +speak. + +Though he might probably never have got to know the real truth, could +she tell him that _he_ was the father of her child, or, at least, +allow him to think so? No, she could never do that, for it was +impossible to act that lie the whole of her life. Could she see her +husband, returning from a long voyage, take in his arms and fondle +the child that was not his, the child that he would strangle if he +knew whose it was? + +Although an infant is the real, nay, the only bond of married life, +still, the child of sin is a spectre ever rising 'twixt husband and +wife, estranging them from one another for ever. + +Then she had better confess her guilt at once. And bring about three +deaths? Aye, surely; Radonic was not a man to forgive. He had +crippled a sailor lad for some trifle. + +She must keep her secret a little longer--and then? + +Thereupon she fell on her knees before the silver-clad image of the +Virgin. + +"Oh, holy Virgin, help me! for to whom can I turn for help but to +thee? Help me, and I promise thee never to sin again, either by word +or action, all my life." And she kissed the icon devoutly. "Oh, holy +Virgin, help me! for thou canst do any miracle thou likest. Show +mercy upon me, and draw me from this sorrowful plight. I shall work +hard, and get thee, with my earnings, as huge a taper as money can +buy. + +"And thou, great St. George, who didst kill a dragon to save a maid, +save me from Vranic; and every year, upon thy holy day, I shall burn +incense and light a candle before thy picture, if thou wilt listen to +my prayer." + +After that, feeling somewhat comforted, she went to bed, and at last +managed to fall asleep, notwithstanding the pain she felt in her +side. + +On the morrow Radonic went away as usual, and Milena was left alone. +The day passed away slowly, gloomily. The weather was dull, sultry, +oppressive. The sirocco that blew every now and then in fitful, +silent gusts, was damp, stifling, heavy. A storm was brewing in the +air overhead, and all around there was a lull, as if anxious Nature +were waiting in sullen expectation for its outburst. The earth was +fretful; the sky as peevish as a human being crossed in his designs. +The hollow, rumbling noise in the clouds seemed the low grumbling of +contained anger. + +Everybody was more or less unsettled by the weather--Milena more than +anyone else. As the day passed her nervousness increased, and +solitude grew to be oppressive. + +Her husband, before leaving the house, had told her to go and spend +the evening at her kinswoman's, as a bee was to be held there; the +women spun, and the men prepared stakes for the vines. Bellacic was +fond of company, and he liked to have people with merry faces around +him, helping him to while away the long evening hours; nor did he +grudge a helping hand to others, whenever his neighbours had any kind +of work for him to do. + +"I'll come there and fetch you as soon as I've settled my business +with Vranic," said Radonic, going off. + +Milena, understanding that her husband wanted her out of the way, +decided upon remaining at home, and, possibly, preventing further +mischief. + +The day had been dark and gloomy from morning; the clouds heaped +overhead grew always blacker, and kept coming down lower and ever +lower. Early in the afternoon the light began to wane. Her uneasiness +increased at approaching night. With the gloaming her thoughts grew +dreary and dismal. She was afraid to remain at home; she was loth to +go away. Unable to work any longer, she went outside to sit on the +doorstep and spin. Now, at last, the rain began, and lurid flashes +were seen through the several heaps and masses of clouds. + +The lightning showed to her excited imagination not only numberless +witches, morine and goblins, chasing and racing after each other like +withered leaves in a storm, but in that horrid landscape she +perceived murderous battles, hurtling onslaughts, fearful frays and +bloodshed, followed by spaces that looked like fields of fire and +gory hills of trodden snow. It was too dreadful to look at, so she +turned round to go in. She would light the lamp and kindle the fire. +At a few steps from the threshold she heard, or, at least, she +fancied she heard, someone whistle outside. She stopped to listen. +Perhaps it was only the shrill sound of the wind through the leafless +bushes; for the wind has at times the knack of whistling like a +human being. + +She again advanced a step or two towards the hearth; and as she did +so, she stumbled on something. She uttered a low, muffled cry as she +almost fell. On what had her foot caught? She bent down, and felt +with her hand. It seemed like the corpse of a man stretched out at +full length--a human creature wallowing in his own blood. A sickening +sense of fear, a feeling of faintness, came over her. She hardly +dared to move. Her teeth were chattering; all her limbs were +trembling. Still, she managed to recover her self-possession, so as +to grope and put her hand on the steel and flint. Still, such was her +terror, that everything she touched assumed an uncouth, ungainly, +weird shape. Having found the steel, she managed to strike a light. +That faint glimmer dispelled her terror, and she asked herself how +she could have been so foolish as to take a coat lying on the floor +for a murdered man. + +The thing that puzzled her was how that coat came to be lying there +on the floor. It was her husband's old _kabanica_, and it must have +been left on some stool. + +As all these thoughts flitted through her mind, a loud crack was +heard--a jarring sound amidst the hushed stillness of the house. +Milena shuddered; a hand seemed to grip her throat. Her heart stopped +for a moment; then it began to throb and beat as if it were going to +burst. She gasped for breath. + +What was that ominous noise? The hoop of a tub had broken! + +To the uninitiated this might seem a trifle, but to those versed in +occult lore it was a fearful omen. Someone was to die in that house, +and this death was to happen soon, very soon; perhaps before +daybreak. + +She was so scared that she could not remain a moment longer in that +house; so, wrapping herself up in her husband's old coat, she +hastened out of the house. Just then Uros' last words sounded in her +ears: + +"If you are alone and in trouble, go to my mother; she will not only +be a friend to you, but love you as a daughter for my sake." + +Her husband that morning had sent her to Mara's; she could not remain +alone any longer; it was _Kismet_ that she should go. Besides, Vranic +might be coming now at any moment, and even if she swore to him that +her husband had not started, he would not believe her; then she would +only excite her husband to greater wrath if he came and found him +alone with her. No, on the whole, it was better by far to obey her +husband's behest; therefore, she started off. She ran quickly through +the pouring rain, and never stopped till she was at Bellacic's door. + +"Oh! Milena, is it you?" said Mara, her motherly eyes twinkling with +a bright smile of welcome; "though, to tell you the real truth, I +almost expected you." + +"Why?" + +"Because a big fly has been buzzing round me, telling me that some +person who is fond of me would come and see me. Oracles are always +true; besides," added she, with a smile and a sly look, "just guess +of what I've been dreaming?" + +"Of black grapes, that bring good luck, I suppose." + +"No, of doves; so I'll surely get a letter from Uros to-morrow or the +day after." + +Milena looked down demurely; she blushed; then, to turn away the +conversation, she added: + +"To-day, for a wonder, Radonic has sent me to pass the evening with +you; he'll come to fetch me later on--at least, he said he would." + +"It is a wonder, indeed--why, what's come over him? He must have put +on his coat inside out when he got up." + +Milena thereupon told her friend why her husband did not want her at +home. + +"Anyhow, I'm very glad you've come, for I'm embroidering two +waistcoats--one for Uros, the other for Milenko--and my poor eyes are +getting rather weak, so you can help me a little with the fine +stitching." + +"Radonic told me that some of your neighbours are coming to make +stakes." + +"Are they? My husband did not say anything about it." + +After some time, Markovic and his wife, and several other neighbours, +made their appearance. + +As every man came in, he greeted Milena, and, seeing her alone, asked +her where Radonic was. She, like a true Montenegrin, warded off the +question by answering with a shrug of her shoulders and in an +off-hand way: + +"May the devil take him, if I know where he is. I daresay he'll pop +up by-and-bye." + +Etiquette not only requires a wife to avoid speaking of her husband, +but also to eschew him completely when present, just as more northern +people ignore entirely the name of certain indispensable articles of +clothing. + +When all the guests were assembled, and such dainties as roasted +Indian-corn, melon, pumpkin and sun-flower seeds were handed round, +together with filberts and walnuts, then the bard (the honoured +guest) was begged to sing them a song. The improvisatore, stroking +his long moustache and twisting its ends upwards that they might not +be too much in his way as he spoke, took down his _guzla_ and began +to scrape it by way of prelude. This was not, as amongst us, a sign +to begin whispered conversation in out of the way corners, or to +strike an attitude of bored sentimentality, for everybody listened +now with rapt attention. + + +THE FAITHLESS WIFE. + + When Gjuro was about to start for war, + And leave his wife alone within his hall, + He fondly said: "Dear Jeljena, farewell, + My faithful wife; I now hie to the camp, + From whence I hope to come back soon; so for + Thine own sweet sake and mine be true to me." + In haste the wanton woman answered back: + "Go, my loved lord, and God watch over thee." + He had but gone beyond the gate, when she + Took up a jug and went across the field + To fetch fresh water from the fountain there; + And having got unto the grassy glen, she saw + A handsome youth, who had adorned his cap + With flowers freshly culled from terebinth. + And unto him the sprightly wife thus spoke: + "Good day to thee, brave Petar; tell me, pray, + Where hast thou bought those blossoms fresh and fair?" + And he: "God grant thee health, O Gjuro's wife; + They were not got for gold, they are a gift." + Then Jelka hastened back to her own house, + And to her room she called her trusted maid. + "Now list," said she. "Go quick beyond the field + And try to meet young Petar Latkovin; + With terebinth you'll see his cap adorned. + Say unto him: 'Fair youth, to thee I bear + The greetings of good Gjuro's wife, and she + Doth kindly beg that thou wilt sup with her, + And spend the night in dalliance and delight-- + And give her one fair flower from thy cap. + The castle hath nine gates; the postern door + Will ope for thee, now Gjuro is far off." + The handmaid forthwith to the fountain sped, + And found the youth. "Good day, my lord," said she. + "Great Gjuro's winsome wife her greetings sends; + She begs that thou will sup with her this night, + And grant her those sweet sprays of terebinth. + Nine gates our manor has; the small side door + Will be left ope for thee, my handsome youth, + As Gjuro is away." Then Petar thanked + And longed that night might come. At dusk, with joy + He to the castle sped. He put his steed + In Gjuro's stall, and then his sword he hung + Just in the place where Gjuro hung his own, + And set his cap where Gjuro placed his casque. + In mirth they supped, and sleep soon closed their eyes; + But, lo! when midnight came, the wife did hear + Her husband's voice that called: "My Jelka dear, + Come, my loved wife, and open quick thy doors." + Distracted with great fear, she from her bed + Sprang down, scarce knowing what to do; but soon + She hid the youth, then let her husband in. + With feigning love she to his arms would fly, + But he arrested her with frowning mien. + "Why didst thou not call quick thy maiden up + To come and ope at once these doors of thine?" + "Sweet lord, believe a fond and faithful wife: + Last night this maid of mine went off in pain + To bed; she suffers from the ague, my lord; + So I was loth, indeed, to call her up." + "If this be true, you were quite right," quoth he; + "Yet I do fear that all thy words are lies." + "May God now strike me dumb, if all I spake + Be aught than truth," said Jeljena at once. + But frowning, Gjuro stood with folded arms: + "Whose is that horse within my stall? and whose + That cap adorned with flowers gay? And there + I see a stranger's sword upon the wall." + "Now listen to thy loving wife, my lord. + Last night a warrior came within thy walls, + And wanted wine, in pledge whereof he left + His prancing steed, his sword, and that smart cap," + Said Yelka, smiling sweetly to her lord. + And he with lowering looks, then said: "'Tis well, + Provided thou canst swear thou speakest true." + "The Lord may strike me blind," she then replied. + "Why is thy hair dishevelled, and thy cheeks + Of such a pallid hue? now, tell me why?" + And she: "Believe thine honest wife. Last night + As I did walk beneath our orchard trees, + The apple boughs dishevelled thus my hair, + And then I breathed the orange blossom scent, + Until their fragrance almost made me faint." + Now Gjuro's face was fearful to behold, + Still as he frowned he only said: "'Tis well, + But on the holy Cross now take an oath." + "My lord, upon the holy Cross I swear." + "Now give me up the key of mine own room." + Then Jeljena grew ghastly pale with fear, + Still she replied in husky tones: "Last night + As I came from your room the key did break + Within the lock, so now the door is shut." + But he cried out in wrath: "Give me my key, + Or from thy shoulders I shall smite thy head!" + She stood aghast and speechless with affright, + So with his foot he burst at once the door. + There in the room he found young Latkovin. + "Now, answer quick: Didst thou come here by strength, + Or by her will?" The youth a while stood mute, + Not knowing what to say. But looking up: + "Were it by mine own strength," he then replied, + "Beyond the hills she now would be with me; + If I am here, 'tis by her own free will." + Then standing straight, with stern and stately mien, + Unto the youth he said, in scornful tones: + "Hence, get thee gone!" Now, when they were alone, + He glanced askance upon his guilty wife + With loathsomeness and hatred in his eyes: + "Now, tell me of what death thou'lt rather die-- + By having all thy bones crushed in a mill? + Or being trodden down 'neath horses' hoofs? + Or flaring as a torch to light a feast?" + She, for a trice, nor spake, nor moved, nor breathed, + But stood as if amazed and lost in thought; + Then, waking up as from some frightful dream: + "I am no corn to be crushed in a mill, + Or stubble grass for steeds to tread upon; + If I must die, then, like unto a torch, + Let me burn brightly in thy banquet hall." + In freezing tones the husband spake and said: + "Be it, then, as you list," and thereupon + He made her wear a long white waxen gown. + Then, in his hall, he bound her to a pyre, + And underneath he piled up glowing coals, + So that the flame soon rose and reached her knees. + With tearful eyes and a heartrending cry: + "Oh! Gjuro mine, take pity on my youth; + Look at my feet, as white as winter snow; + Think of the times they tripped about this hall + In mazy dance; let not my feet be scorched." + To all her prayers he turned a ruthless ear, + And only heaped more wood on the pile. + The lambent flames now leapt up to her hands, + And she in anguish and in dreadful dole + Cried out: "Oh! show some mercy on my youth; + Just see my hands--so soft, so small, so smooth-- + Let not these scathful flames now scorch my hands. + Have pity on these dainty hands of mine, + That often lifted up thy babe to thee." + Her words awoke no pity in his heart, + That seemed to have become as cold as clay; + He only heaped up coals upon the pile, + Like some fell demon who had fled from hell. + The forked lurid tongues rose up on high, + Like slender fiery snakes that sting the flesh, + And, leaping up, they reached her snowy breast. + "Oh! Gjuro," she cried out, "for pity's sake + Have mercy on my youth; torment me not. + Though I was false to thee, let me not die. + See how these fearful flames deflower these breasts-- + The fountain that hath fed thine infant's life-- + See, they are oozing o'er with drops of milk." + But Gjuro's eyes were blind, his ears were deaf; + A viper now was coiled around his heart, + That urged him to heap up the pile with wood. + The rising flames began to blind her eyes; + Still, ere the fearful smoke had choked her breath, + She cast on Gjuro one long loving glance, + And craved, in anguish, mercy on her youth: + "Have pity on my burning eyes, and let + Me look once more upon my little child." + To all her cries his cruel soul was shut; + He only fanned and fed the fatal flame, + Until the faithless wife was burnt to death. + + +A moment of deep silence followed; the men twisted their moustaches +silently, the women stealthily wiped away their tears with the back +of their hands. + +"Gjuro was a brute!" at last broke out a youth, impetuously. + +Nobody answered at once; then an elderly man said, slowly: + +"Perhaps he was, but you are not a husband yet, Tripko; you are only +in love. Adultery, amongst us, is no trifle, as it is in Venice, for +instance; we Slavs never forgive." + +"I don't say he ought to have forgiven; in his place I might have +strangled her, but as for burning a woman alive, as a torch, I find +it heinous!" + +Milena, who had fancied herself in Jeljena's place, could not refrain +her sobs any longer; moreover, it seemed to her as if her guilt had +been found out, and she wished the earth would open and swallow her +alive. + +"Oh, my poor Milena!" said Mara, soothingly, "you are too +tender-hearted; it is only a _pisma_, after all." Then, turning to +her neighbour, she added: "She has not been well for some days, and +then----" she lowered her voice to a whisper. + +"I am sorry," said the bard, "that I upset you in this way but----" + +"Oh! it is nothing, only I fancied I could see the poor woman +burning; it was so dreadful!" + +"Here," said Bellacic, "have a glass of _slivovitz_; it'll set you +all right. Moreover, listen; I'll tell you a much finer story, only +pay great attention, for I'm not very clever at story-telling. Are +you all ears?" + +"Yes," said Milena, smiling. + +"Well, once upon a time, there was a man who had three dogs: the +first was called Catch-it-quick; the second, Bring-it-back; and the +third, I-know-better. Now, one morning this man got up very early to +go out hunting, so he called Catch-it-quick, Bring-it-back, and +--and--how stupid I am! now I've forgotten the name of the other dog. +Well, I said I wasn't good in telling stories; what was it?" + +"I-know-better," interrupted Milena. + +"No doubt you do, my dear, so perhaps you'll continue the story +yourself, as you know better." + +Everybody laughed, and the gloom that had come over the company after +the bard's story was now dispelled. + +"Radonic is late; I'm afraid, Milena, if you went back home, you'd +have to prepare a stake for him," said Markovic. Then, turning to the +bard: "Come, Stoyan, give us another _pisma_." + +"Yes, but something merry," interrupted Tripko; "tell us some verses +about the great _Kraglievic_." + +The bard, contrary to his wont, was sipping his glass of _slivovitz_ +very slowly; he now finished it and said: + +"I'll try, though, to tell you the truth, I'm rather out of sorts +this evening; I really don't know why. There is an echo, as if of a +crime, in the slightest noise, a smell of blood in every gust of +wind. Do you not hear anything? Well, perhaps, I am mistaken." + +Everyone looked at one another wistfully, for they all knew that old +Stoyan was something of a prophet. + +"There! listen," said he, staring vacantly; "did you not hear?" + +"No," said Bellacic; "what was it?" + +"Only the heavy thud of a man falling like a corpse on the ground," +and as he said these words he crossed himself devoutly and muttered +to himself: "May the Lord forgive him, whoever he is." Thereupon +everybody present crossed himself, saying: "_Bog nas ovari._" + +Milena shuddered and grew deathly pale; though she was not gifted +with second sight, she saw in her mind's eye something so dreadful +that it almost made her faint with terror. Mara, seeing her ghastly +pale, said: + +"Come, give us this song, but let it be something brisk and merry, +for the howling of the wind outside is like a funeral wail, and it is +that lament which makes us all so moody to-night." + +"You are right, _gospodina_; besides, one man more or less--provided +he is no relation of ours--is really no great matter. How many +thousands fell treacherously at Kossoro." Then, taking up his bow, he +began to scrape the chord of his _guzla_, in a swift, jerking, +sprightly way. + +"What is it?" asked Bellacic. + +And Stoyan replied, as he began to sing: + + +MARKO KRAGLIEVIC'S FALCON. + + A falcon flies o'er Budua town; + It bears a gleaming golden crest, + Its wings are gilt, so is its breast; + Of clear bright yellow is each claw, + And with its sheen it lights the wold. + + Then all the maids of Budua town + Ask this fair sparkling bird of prey + Why it is yellow and not grey? + Who gilded it without a flaw? + Who gave it that bright crest of gold? + + And to the maids of Budua town + That falcon shy did thus reply: + Listen, ye maids, and know that I + Belong to Mark the warrior brave, + Who is as fair as he is bold. + + His sisters dwell in Budua town + The first, the fairest of the two, + Painted my claws a yellow hue, + And gilt my wings; great Marko gave + To me this sparkling crest of gold. + + +He finished, and then, as it was getting late, everyone began to wish +Bellacic and Mara good-night and to go off. Several of the guests +offered to see Milena home, but the _domacica_ insisted that her +kinswoman should remain and spend the night with her, and Milena +consented full willingly, for she dreaded going back home. + +When all the guests had gone, Mara took Milena in bed with her; but +she, poor thing, could not find rest, for the words of the bard kept +ever ringing in her ears. Then she saw again the great-coat lying on +the floor, looking like a corpse; and, in the howling wind, she +thought she heard a voice calling for help. Who was it? Radonic or +Vranic? + +It was only the wind howling outside through the trees, creeping +slily along the whitewashed walls of the houses, stealthily trying to +find some small cranny wherein to creep, then shrieking with a shrill +cry of exultation when it had come to an open window, or when, +discovering some huge keyhole, it could whistle undisturbed. + +At last, just as Milena began to get drowsy, and her heavy eyelids +were almost closed, she again saw the _kabanica_, which had--some +hours ago--been lying on the floor, rise and twist itself into the +most grotesque and fantastic attitudes, then--almost hidden under the +hood--Vranic's face making mouths at her. She opened her eyes widely, +and although consciousness had now returned, and she knew that the +great-coat had been left in the other room, still she saw it plainly +dancing and capering like a monkey. She shivered and shuddered; she +closed her eyes not to see it; still, it became ever more distinct. +Then she buried her face in the pillow, and covered up her head in +the sheet; then by degrees a feeling of drowsiness came over her, and +just as she was going off to sleep the _kabanica_, which was standing +erect, fell all at once to the ground with a mighty thud that almost +shook the whole house, and even seemed to precipitate her down some +bottomless hole. In her terror she clutched at Mara, who was fast +asleep, and woke her. + +"What's the matter?" asked the elderly woman. + +"I heard a loud voice; didn't you hear it?" + +"No, I had just dropped off to sleep." + +Thereupon both the women listened, but the house was perfectly quiet. + +"What kind of a noise was it?" + +"Like a man falling heavily on the ground." + +"You must have been dreaming; Stoyan's words frightened you, that's +all, unless the cat or the dog knocked something down. You know, at +night every noise sounds strange, uncouth, whilst in the day-time +we'd never notice them. Now, the best thing you can do is to try and +go off to sleep." + +Alas! why are we not like the bird that puts its head under its wing +and banishes at once the outer world from its view. Every endeavour +she made to bring about oblivion seemed, on the contrary, to +stimulate her to wakefulness, and thereby frustrate her efforts. +Sleepiness only brought on mental irritation, instead of soft, drowsy +rest. The most gloomy thoughts came into her mind. Why had her +husband not come to fetch her? Perhaps Vranic, seeing himself +discovered, had stabbed him to death. Then she thought that, in this +case, all her trouble would be at an end. Thereupon she crossed +herself devoutly, and uttered a prayer that her husband might not be +murdered, even if he had been cruel to her. Still, she was quite sure +that, if Radonic ever discovered her guilt, he would surely murder +her--burn her, perhaps, like Gjuro had done. + +Thereupon she heard the elderly man's slow and grave voice ringing in +her ears: + +"Slavs never forgive. Adultery amongst us is no trifle, as it is in +Venice." + +She shuddered with terror. Every single word as it had been uttered +had sunk deep into her breast, like drops of burning wax falling from +Jeljena's gown. Each one was like the stab of a sharp knife cutting +her to the quick. + +Then again she fancied that Stoyan had sung that _pisma_ only to +taunt her. + +She had once heard the _pop_ read in the Bible about an adulteress in +Jerusolim who was to be stoned to death. + +Had not every word that evening been a stone thrust at her? What was +she to do? What was to become of her? Once entangled in the net of +sin, every effort we make to get out of it seems to make us flounder +deeper in its fatal meshes. + +All these thoughts tortured and harassed her, burning tears were ever +trickling down her cheeks, her weary head was aching as she tossed +about, unable to go off to sleep, unable to find rest; nay, a +creepiness had come over all her limbs, as if a million ants were +going up and down her legs. + +How glad she was at last to see through the curtainless window the +first glimmer of dawn dispel the darkness of the night--the long, +dreary, unending night. + +"You have had a bad night," said Mara. "I heard you turning and +tossing about, but I thought it better not to speak to you. I suppose +it was the bed. I'm like you, I always lose my sleep in a new bed." + +"Oh, no!" said Milena. "I was anxious." + +"About your husband? Perhaps he got drunk and went off to sleep." + +As soon as Milena was dressed she wanted to go off, but Mara would +not allow her. + +"First, your husband said he'd come and fetch you, so you must stay +with us till he comes; then, remember you promised to help me with my +embroidery, so I can't let you go." + +"No, I'm too anxious about Radonic. You know, he's so hasty." + +"Yes, he's a brute, I know." + +"Besides, I can't get the bard's words out of my head." + +"In fact, poor thing, you are looking quite ill. Anyhow, I'll not +allow you to go alone, so you must wait till I've put the house in +order, and then I'll go with you." + +As soon as breakfast was over, and Bellacic was out of the house, +Mara got ready. She little knew that, though Milena was anxious to +find out the dreadful truth of that night's mystery, she was in her +heart very loth to return home. + +Just as Mara was near the door, she, like all women, forgot something +and had to go in, for--what she called--a minute. Milena stepped out +alone. First, as she pushed the door open, the hinges gave a most +unpleasant grating sound. She shivered, for this was a very bad omen. +Then a cat mewed. Milena crossed herself. And, as if all this were +not enough, round the corner came an old lame hag whom she knew. The +old woman stopped. + +"What, _gospa_! is it you? and where are you going so early in the +morning?" + +Milena shuddered, and her teeth chattered in such a way that she +could hardly answer her. It was very bad to meet an old woman in the +morning; worse still, a lame old woman; worst of all, to be asked +where you are going. + +The best thing on such a day would be to go back in-doors, and do +nothing at all; for everything undertaken would go all wrong. + +The old woman's curiosity having been satisfied, she hobbled away, +and soon disappeared, leaving Milena more dejected and forlorn even +than she had been before. + +Mara came out, and found her ghastly pale; she tried to laugh the +matter over, though she, too, felt that it was really no laughing +matter. Weary and worn, poor Milena dragged herself homewards, but +her knees seemed as if they were broken, and her limbs almost refused +to carry her. + +Soon they came in sight of the house; all the windows and the doors +were shut--evidently Radonic was not at home. + +"I wonder where he is," said Milena to her friend. + +"Probably he has gone to our house to look for you. If you had only +waited a little! Now he'll say that we wanted to get rid of you." + +At last they were at the door. + +"And now," said Mara, "probably the house is locked, and you'll have +to come back with me." Then, all at once interrupting herself: "Oh! +how my left ear is ringing, someone is speaking about me; can you +guess who it is, Milena? Yes, I think I can hear my son's voice," and +the fond mother's handsome face beamed with pleasure. + +She had hardly uttered these words, when they heard someone call out: + +"Gospa Mara! gospa Mara!" + +Then turning round, they saw a youth running up to them. + +"What! is it you, Todor Teodorovic? and when did you come back?" +quoth Mara. + +"We came back last evening." + +"Perhaps you met the _Spera in Dio_ on your voyage?" + +"Yes, we met the brig at Zara, but as she had somewhat suffered from +the storm, she was obliged to go to Nona for repairs, as all the +building yards of Zara were busy." + +Thereupon, he began to expatiate very learnedly about the nature of +the damage the ship had suffered, but Mara interrupted him-- + +"And how was Uros? did you see him?" + +"Oh, yes! he was quite well." + +Then he began to tell Mara all about the lives Uros and Milenko had +saved, and how gallantly they had endangered their own. "But," added +he, "our captain has a letter for you, _gospa_." + +"There, I told you I'd have a letter to-day; I had dreamt of doves, +and when I see doves or horses in my sleep, I always get some news +the day afterwards," said Mara, turning to her friend, but Milena had +disappeared. + +Todor Teodorovic having found a willing listener, an occurrence which +happened but very seldom with him, began to tell Mara all about the +repairs the _Spera in Dio_ would have to undergo, and also how long +they would stay at Nona, their approximate cost, and so forth, and +Mara listened because anything that related to her son was +interesting to her. + +Milena had stood for a few moments on the doorstep, but when she +heard that Uros was quite well, she slipped unperceived into the +house. She felt so oppressed as she went in that she almost fancied +she was going to meet her death. + +Was it for the last time she went into that house? Would she ever +come out of it again? + +Her hand was on the latch, she pressed it down; it yielded, the door +opened. Perhaps Radonic had come home late, drunk, and he was there +now sleeping himself sober. If this were the case, she would have a +bad day of it; he was always so fretful and peevish on the day that +followed a drinking bout. + +How dark the room was; all the shutters were tightly shut, and +dazzled as she was by the broad daylight, she could not see the +slightest thing in that dark room. + +Her heart was beating so loud that she fancied it was going to burst; +she panted for breath, she shrank within herself, appalled as she was +by that overpowering darkness. She dreaded to stretch out her hand +and grope about, for it seemed to her as if she would be seized by +some invisible foe, lying there in wait for her. + +Just then, as she was staring in front of her, with widely-opened +eyes, the _kabanica_, as she had seen it the evening before, rose +slowly, gravely, silently, from the floor, and stood upright before +her. + +That gloomy ghost of a garment detached itself from the surrounding +darkness and glided up to her, bending forward with outstretched +arms. No face was to be seen, for the head was quite concealed by the +hood. And yet she fancied Vranic's livid face must be there, near +her. + +She almost crouched down, oppressed by that ghostly garment; she +shrank back with terror, and yet she knew that the phantom in front +of her only existed in her morbid imagination. + +To nerve herself to courage, she turned round to cast a glance at +Uros' mother, and convince herself that she was still there, within +reach at a few steps; then, with averted head, she went in. + +She turned round; the phantom of the _kabanica_ had disappeared. She +was by the hearth. What was she to do now? First, open the shutters +and have some light. She turned towards the right. + +All at once she stumbled on the very spot where, the evening before, +she had caught and entangled her foot in the great-coat. A man was +lying there now, apparently dead. She uttered a piercing cry as she +fell on a cold, lifeless body. Then, as she fell, she fainted. + +Mara and Todor, hearing the cry, rushed into the house. They opened +the shutters, and then they saw Milena lying on the floor, all of a +heap, upon an outstretched body. They lifted her up and laid her on +the bed; then they went to examine the man, who was extended at full +length by the hearth, wrapped up in his huge great-coat. + +"There is no blood about him," said Todor; "he, therefore, must be +drunk, and asleep." + +Still, when they touched his limbs, they found that they were stiff +and stark, anchylosed by the rigid sleep of death. + +Mara pushed back the hood of the _kabanica_, and then she saw a sight +which she never forgot the whole of her life. + +She saw Vranic's face staring at her in the most horrible contortions +of overpowering pain. His distorted mouth was widely open, like a +huge black hole; out of it, his slimy, bloody, dark tongue +protruded--dreadful to behold. His nostrils were fiercely dilated. +Still, worst of all, his eyes, with their ugly cast, started +--squinting, glazed and bloodshot--out of their sockets. The hair of +his face and of his head was bristling frightfully; his ghastly +complexion was blotched with livid spots. It was, indeed, a gruesome +sight, especially seen so unexpectedly. + +All around his neck he bore the traces of strangulation, for Radonic, +who had promised not to use a knife, had been true to his word. + +Mara, shuddering, made the sign of the Cross. She pulled the hood of +the coat over the corpse's face, and then went to nurse Milena; +whilst Todor Teodorovic, who had, at last, found a topic of +conversation worth being listened to, went out to call for help. + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +THE HAYDUK + + +On the morning of the murder Vranic accompanied Radonic out of the +town. He had told Milena he would do so. On reaching the gate +fronting the open country and the dark mountains, Radonic stopped, +and wished his friend Good-bye. The seer insisted upon walking a +little way out of town with him. + +"No, thank you; go back. The weather is threatening, and we'll soon +have rain." + +"Well, what does it matter? If you don't melt, no more shall I," and +he laughed at his would-be witticism. + +"The roads are bad, and you are no great walker." + +Vranic, however, insisted. + +Thus they went on together, through vineyards and olive-groves, until +they got in sight of the white-walled convent. There Radonic tried +once more to get rid of his friend. At last they reached the foot of +the rocky mountain, usually fragrant with sage and thyme. Having got +to the flinty, winding path leading to the fort of Kosmac: + +"Now," said Radonic, "you must positively come no farther." + +The road was uneven and very steep. Vranic yielded. + +"Go back, and take care of Milena." + +"Well, I do not say it as a boast, but you could not leave her in +better hands." + +"She is young, and, like all women--well, she has long hair and short +brains. Look after her." + +"Vranic has his eyes open, and will keep good watch." + +"I know I can rely on you. Have we not always been friends, we two? +That is why, whenever I left my home, I did so with a light heart." + +"Your honour is as dear to me as if it were my own." + +"It is only in times of need that we really appreciate the advantage +of having a friend. The proverb is right: 'Let thy trusted friend be +as a brother to you'; and a friend to whom we can entrust our wife, +is even more than a brother. I therefore hope to be able to repay you +soon for your kindness." + +"Don't mention it. It has been a pleasure for me to be of use to you; +for, as honey attracts flies, a handsome young woman collects men +around her. So there must always be someone to ward off indiscreet +admirers. Moreover, as you know, they say I am a seer, and they are +afraid of me." + +At last they kissed and parted; the one walking quickly townwards, +almost light-hearted, especially after the load of his friend's +company, the other trudging heavily upwards. + +After a few steps, Radonic climbed a high rock, and sat down to watch +Vranic retracing his steps townwards. When he had seen him disappear, +he at last rose and quietly followed him for a while. A quarter of an +hour afterwards he was knocking at the gate of the white-walled +convent. The monks, who are always fond of any break in their +monotonous life, received him almost with deference--a sea captain, +who had been all over the world, was always a welcome guest. After +taking snuff with all of them, and chatting about politics, the crops +and the scandal of the town, Radonic asked to be confessed; then he +gave alms, was absolved of his peccadilloes, and finally took the +Eucharist--a spoonful of bread soaked in wine--although he prided +himself on being something of a sceptic. Still, he felt comforted +thereby; he had blotted out all past sins and could now begin a new +score. Religion, they say, in all its forms always tends to make man +happy--aye, and better! + +In this merry frame of mind he sat down to dinner with the jolly +brotherhood, and after a copious but plain meal, he, according to the +custom of this holy house, retired to one of the cells appointed to +strangers, to have a nap. No sooner was he alone than he undid his +bundle, took out a razor and shaved off all the hair of his cheeks +and chin, leaving only a long pair of thick moustaches, which he +curled upwards according to the fierce fashion of the Kotor. This +done, he took off his soiled, ugly, badly-fitting European clothes +and put on the dress of the country--one of the finest and manliest +devised by man; so that, although not good-looking, he was handsome +to what he had just been. + +The monks, on seeing him come out, did not recognise him, and could +not understand from whence he had sprung. Then they were more than +astonished when they found out the reason for this transformation, +for he told them that it was to surprise his wife, or rather, the +moths attracted by her sparkling eyes. + +"I thought I should never put on again the clothes of my youth, but +fate, it appears, has decreed otherwise." + +"Man is made of dust, and to dust he returneth. Sooner or later we +have to become again what we once were. You know the story of the +mouse, don't you?" + +"No; or at least I don't think I do." + +"Then listen, and I'll tell it you." + + +A great many years ago, in the times of Christ and His disciples, +there lived somewhere in Asia a very good man, who had left off +worshipping idols and had become a Christian. + +Finding soon afterwards that it was impossible for him to dwell any +more with his own people--who scoffed at his new creed, rated him for +wishing to be better than they were, mocked him when he prayed, and +played all kinds of tricks on him when he fasted--he sold his +birthright and divided all his money amongst the poor, the blind and +the cripples of his native town. Then he bade farewell to all his +friends and relations, and with the Holy Scriptures in one hand, and +a staff in the other, he went out of the town gate and walked into +the wilderness. + +He wandered for many days until he arrived on top of a steep, +treeless, wind-blown hill, and, almost on the summit, he found a +small cave, the ground of which was strewn with fine white sand, as +soft to the feet as a velvet carpet. On one side of this grotto there +was a fountain of icy cold water, and on the other, hewn in the rock +as if by the hand of man, a kind of long niche, which looked as if it +had been made on purpose for a bed. The Christian, who had decided to +become a hermit, saw in this cave a sign of God's will and favour; +therefore, he stopped there. For some time he lived on the roots of +plants, berries and wild fruit, that grew at the foot of the hill; +then he cultivated a patch of ground, and so he passed his time, +praying, reading his holy Book, meditating over it, or tilling his +bit of glebe. + +Years and years passed--who knows how many?--and he had become an old +man, with a long white beard reaching down to his knees, a brown, +sun-burnt skin, and a face furrowed with wrinkles. Since the day he +had left his country, he had never again seen a man, a woman or a +child, nor, indeed, any other animal, except a few birds that flew +over his head, or some small snakes that glided amongst the stones. +So one evening, after he had said his lengthy prayers and committed +his soul to God, he went to lie down on his couch of leaves and moss; +but he could not sleep. He, for the first time, felt lonely, and, as +it were, home-sick. He knew he would never behold again the face of +any man, so he almost wished he had, at least, some tiny living +creature to cherish. Sleep at last closed his eyes. In the morning, +on awaking, he saw a little mouse frisking in the sand of his cave. +The old hermit looked astonished at the pretty little thing, and he +durst not move, but remained as quiet as a mouse, for fear the mouse +would run away. + +The animal, however, caught sight of him, and stood stock-still on +its hind legs, looking at him. Thus they both remained for some +seconds, staring at each other. Then the hermit understood at last +that God, in His goodness, had heard his wish, and had sent him this +little mouse to comfort him, and be a companion to him in his old +age. And so it was. + +Days, months, years passed, and the mouse never left the hermit, not +even for a single instant; and the godly man grew always fonder of +this friendly little beast. He played with it, patted it, and called +it pet names; and at night, when he crept into his niche to sleep, he +took the mouse with him. + +One night, as he pressed the little animal to his breast, he felt his +heart overflow with love for it, and in his unutterable fondness he +begged the Almighty to change this dear little mouse into a girl; and +lo, and behold! God granted his prayer, for, of course, he was a +saintly man. The hermit pressed the girl to his heart, and then fell +upon his knees and thanked the All-Merciful for His great goodness. + +The girl grew up a beautiful maiden--tall, slender, and most graceful +in her movements, with a soft skin, and twinkling, almost mischievous +eyes. + +Years passed. The hermit now had grown to be a very old man; and in +his last years his spirit was troubled, and his heart was full of +care. He knew that he had passed the time allotted to man here below, +and he was loth to think that he would have to die and leave his +daughter alone in the wilderness. Besides, she had reached +marriageable age; and if it is no easy matter for a match-making +mother to marry her daughter in a populous town, it was a difficult +task to find a husband for her in that desert. Moreover, he did not +exactly know how to broach the subject of matrimony to a girl who was +so very ingenuous, and who thought that all the world was limited to +the cave and the hill on which she lived. Still, he did not shrink +from this duty; and, therefore, he told her what he had read in +scientific books about the conjunctions of planets in the sky. Then +he quoted the Scriptures, and said that it was not good for man to be +alone, nor for woman either; that even widows should marry, if they +cannot live in the holy state of celibacy. + +The poor girl did not quite fathom all the depths of his speech, but +said she would be guided by his wisdom. + +"Very well," said the anchorite, "I shall soon find you a husband +worthy of you." + +"But," said the girl, ingenuously, "why do you not marry me +yourself?" + +"_I_ marry you? First, my dear, I am a hermit, and hermits never +marry, for if they did, they might have a family, then--you +understand--they wouldn't be hermits any more, would they?" + +"But they needn't have a family, need they?" + +"Well, perhaps not; besides, I can't marry you, because----" + +"Because?" + +"I," stammered the anchorite, blushing, "I'm too old." + +"Ah, yes!" echoed the maid, sighing; "it's a fact, you are _very_ +old." + +That night, after the hermit and his adopted daughter had said their +prayers, she, who was very sleepy, went off to bed, whilst he, who +was as perplexed as any father having a dowerless daughter, went out +of his cavern to meditate. + +The full moon had just risen above the verge of the horizon, and her +soft light silvered the sand of the desert, and made it look like +newly fallen snow. + +The old man stood on top of the hill, and stretching forth his arms +to the Moon: + +"Oh! thou mightiest of God's works, lovely Moon, take pity upon a +perplexed father, and listen to my prayer. I have one fair daughter +that has now reached marriageable age; she is of radiant beauty, and +well versed in all the mysteries of our holy religion. Marry my +daughter, O Moon!" + +"Now," said Radonic, interrupting, "that's foolish; how could the old +hermit expect the Moon to marry his daughter?" + +"First, this is a parable, like one of those our blessed Saviour used +to tell the people; therefore, being a parable, it's Gospel, and you +must believe it as a true story, for it is the life of one of the +holy Fathers of the Church." + +"I see," quoth Radonic, although he did not see quite clearly. + +Then the Moon replied: + +"You are mistaken, old man; I am not the mightiest of God's creation. +The Sun, whose light I reflect, is the greatest of the Omnipotent's +works; ask the Sun to be a husband to thy daughter." + +The hermit sank on his knees and uttered lengthy prayers, till the +light of the Moon grew pale and vanished, and the sky got to be of a +saffron tint; soon afterwards, the first rays of the Sun flooded the +desert, and transmuted the sandy plain into one mass of glittering +gold. When the old man saw the effulgent disc of the Sun, he +stretched out his arms and apostrophised this planet as he had done +the Moon. Then he rubbed his hands and thought: + +"Well, if I only get the Sun for my son-in-law I'm a lucky man." + +But the Morning Sun told the hermit that he was mistaken: + +"I'm not the mightiest of the Creator's works," quoth the Sun. "You +see yon cloudlet yonder. Well, soon that little weasel will get to be +as big as a camel, then as a whale, then it'll spread all over the +sky and will hide my face from the earth I love so well. That Cloud +is mightier than I am." + +Then the hermit waited on top of the hill until he saw the Cloud +expand itself in the most fantastic shapes, and when it had covered +up the face of the Morning Sun, the hermit stretched out his hands +and offered to it his daughter in marriage. The Cloud, however, +answered just as the Moon and the Sun had done, and it proposed the +Simoon as a suitor to his daughter. + +"Wait a bit," said the Cloud, "and you will see the might of the +Simoon, that, howling, rises and not only drives us whithersoever he +will, but scatters us in the four corners of the Earth." + +No sooner had the Cloud done speaking than the Wind arose, lifting up +clouds of dust from the earth. It seemed to cast the sand upwards in +the face of the sky, and against the clouds; and the waters above +dropped down in big tears, or fled from the wrath of the Wind. + +Then the hermit stretched his hands towards the Simoon, and begged +him, as the mightiest of the Creator's works, to marry his daughter. + +But the Wind, howling, told him to turn his eyes towards a high +mountain, the snowy summit of which was faintly seen far off in the +distance. "That Mountain," said he, "is mightier by far than myself." + +The hermit then went into the cavern and told his daughter that, as +it was impossible to find a suitor for her in the desert, he was +going on a journey, from which he would only return on the morrow. + +"And will you bring me a husband when you come back?" she asked, +merrily. + +"I trust so, with God's grace," quoth the Hermit, "and one well +worthy of you, my beloved daughter." + +Then the hermit girded his loins, took up his staff, and journeyed in +the direction of the setting sun. Having reached the foot of the +Mountain when the gloaming tinged its flanks in blood, he stretched +out his arms up to the summit of the Mount and begged it to marry his +daughter. + +"Alas," answered the Mountain, mournfully, "you are much mistaken. I +am by no means the mightiest of God's works. A Rat that has burrowed +a big hole at my feet is mightier by far than I am, for he nibbles +and bites me and burrows in my bowels, and I can do nothing against +it. Ask the Rat to marry thy daughter, for he is mightier by far than +I am." + +The hermit, after much ado, found out the Rat's hole, and likewise +the Rat, who--like himself--was a hermit. + +"Oh, mightiest of God's mighty works! I have one daughter, passing +fair, highly accomplished, and well versed in sacred lore; wilt +thou--unless thou art already married--take this rare maiden as thy +lawful wedded wife?" + +"Hitherto, I have never contemplated marriage," retorted the Rat, +"for 'sufficient to the day are the evils thereof'; still, where is +your daughter?" + +"She is at home, in the wilderness." + +"Well, you can't expect me to marry a cat in a bag, can you?" he +answered, squeaking snappishly. + +"Oh, certainly not!" replied the anchorite, humbly; "still, that she +is fair, you have my word on it; and I was a judge of beauty in past +times"--thereupon he stopped, and humbly crossed himself--"that she +is wise--well, she is my daughter." + +"Pooh!" said the Rat; "every father thinks his child the fairest one +on earth; you know the story of the owl, don't you?" + +"I do," retorted the hermit, hastily. + +"Then you wouldn't like me to tell it you, would you?" + +"No, not I." + +"Well, then, what about your daughter?" + +"I'll take you to see her, if you like." + +"Is it far?" + +"A good day's walk." + +"H'm, I don't think it's worth while going so far. Could you not +bring her here for me to see her?" + +"Oh! it's against etiquette. But if you like, I'll carry you to her." + +"All right, it's a bargain." + +At nightfall they set out on their journey, and they got to the cave +early on the following day. + +The young girl, seeing the hermit, ran down the hill to meet him. + +"Well, father," said she, with glistening eyes, flushed cheeks, +parted lips, and panting breast, "and my husband, where is my +husband?" + +"Here," said the anchorite; and he took the Rat out of his wallet. +"Here he is; allow me to introduce to you a husband mightier than the +Moon, more powerful than the Sun, stronger than the Clouds, more +valiant than the Simoon, greater than the high Mountain; in fact, a +husband well worthy of you, my daughter." + +The eyes of the young girl opened wider and wider in mute +astonishment. + +"He's a fine specimen of his kind, isn't he?" + +"I daresay he is," said she, surveying him with the eye of a +connoisseur; "and cooked in honey, he'd be a dainty bit." + +"And he's a hermit, into the bargain." + +"But," added the girl, ruefully, "if you intended me to marry a rat, +was it not quite useless to have turned me into a woman?" + +The hermit stroked his beard, pensively, for a while, and was +apparently lost in deep meditation. + +"My daughter," replied he, after a lengthy pause, "your words are +Gospel; I have never thought of all this till now; you see clearly +that 'the ways of Providence are not our ways.'" + +Thereupon, the old man fell on his knees, for he felt himself +rebuked; he prayed long and earnestly that his daughter might once +more be changed into a mouse. And, lo and behold! his prayer was +granted; nay, before he had got up from his knees and looked around, +the girl had dwindled into her former shape, evidently well pleased +with the change. + +Anyhow, the anchorite was comforted in his loneliness, for he had +always meant well towards her; moreover, he felt sure that if the +newly-married couple ever had children, the little mice would be so +well brought up, that they would scrupulously refrain from eating +lard on fast days. + +Then the hermit, tired with his journey, went and lay down on his bed +of moss, dropped off to sleep, and never woke again on earth. + + +At dusk, Radonic took leave of the learned and hospitable +_kaludgeri_, and went back to town. He reached the gate when the +shadows of the night had already fallen upon the earth. Although he +fancied that everyone he met stared at him, still many of his +acquaintances passed close by him without recognising him. + +At last he crossed the whole of the town and got to his house. The +door being slightly ajar, he thought Milena must be at home. He +glided in on tiptoe, his _opanke_ hardly making the slightest noise +on the stone floor. There was no fire on the hearth, no light to be +seen anywhere. Milena was not in the front room, nor in any of the +others. Where could she have gone, and left the front door open? +Surely she would be back in a few moments? He crouched in a corner +and waited, but Milena did not make her appearance. + +As it was quite dark, he groped to the cupboard, found the loaf, cut +himself a slice, then managed to lay his hand on the cheese. As he +ate, he almost felt like a burglar in his own house. The darkness +really unnerved him, and yet he was inured to watch in the night on +board his ship; now, however, the hand of Time seemed to have +stopped. + +The bread was more than tough, the cheese was dry; so he could hardly +manage to gulp the morsels down. Unable to find the _bukara_, he went +into the cellar and took a long draught of heady wine. + +Returning upstairs, he again crouched in a corner. Milena had not +come back; evidently, she had gone to Mara's, as he had told her to. +Sitting there in the darkness, watching and waiting, with the purpose +of blood on his mind, time hung wearily upon him. The wine had +somewhat cheered him, but now drowsiness overpowered him. To keep +himself from falling asleep, he tried to think. Though he was not +gifted with a glowing imagination, still his mind was full of +fancies, and one vision succeeded another in his overheated brain. +His past life now began to flit before his eyes like scenes in a +peep-show. A succession of ghosts arose from amidst the darkness and +threatened him. One amongst them made him shudder. It was that of a +beautiful young woman of eighteen summers standing on the seashore, +waiting for a sail. + +Many years ago, when he was only a simple sailor, he had been wrecked +on the coasts of Sicily. A poor widow had given him shelter, and in +return for her kindness, what had he done? This woman had three +daughters; the eldest was a beautiful girl of eighteen, the other two +were mere children. For months these poor creatures toiled for him +and fed him. Then he married the girl under a false name with the +papers belonging to one of the drowned sailors. Although he had +married her against his will--for she was a Catholic and did not +belong to the Orthodox faith--still he intended doing what was +right--bring her to his country, and re-marry her according to the +rites of his own Church. But time passed; so he confessed, gave alms +to the convent, obtained the absolution, and was almost at peace with +himself. Probably, she had come to the conclusion that he had been +swallowed up by the hungry waves, and she had married a man of her +own country; so his child had a father. Still, since his marriage, +the vision of that woman often haunted him. + +Anyhow, he added bitterly to himself, although a Catholic, she had +loved him. Milena, a true believer, had never cared for him. And now +he remembered the first time he had seen Milena; how smitten he had +been by her beauty, how her large eyes had flashed upon him with a +dark and haughty look. She had disliked him from the first, but what +had he cared when he had got her father into his hands? for when the +proud Montenegrin owed him a sum which he could not pay at once, he +had asked him for the hand of his daughter. + +Instead of trying to win her love, he had ill-treated her from the +very beginning; then, seeing that nothing could daunt her, he had +often feared lest he should find his house empty on returning home. + +All at once the thought struck him that now she had run away with +Vranic. She had, perhaps, confided the whole truth to him, and they +had escaped together. He ground his teeth with rage at that thought. + +No, such a thing could not be, for she hated Vranic. + +"Aye, it is true she hates him, but does she not hate me as much?" he +said to himself; "fool that I was not to have thought of this before. +Vranic is not handsome; no one can abide him. Still, he clings to +women in a way that it is almost impossible to get rid of him. +Anyhow, if they have gone away together, I swear by the blessed +Virgin, by St. Nicholas, and by St. Cyril and Method that I shall +overtake them; nay," said he, with a fearful oath, "even if they have +taken refuge in God's own stomach, I shall go and drag them out and +take vengeance on them, as a true Slav that I am. Still, in the +meantime, they have, perhaps, fooled me, and I am here waiting for +them." And, in his rage, he struck his head against the wall. + +"Trust a woman!" thought Radonic; "they are as skittish as cats, +slippery as eels, as false as sleeping waters. Why, my own mother +cheated me of many a penny, only for the pleasure of hoarding them, +and then leaving them to me after her death. Trust a woman as far as +you can see her, but no farther," and then he added: "Yes, and trust +thy friend, which is like going to pat a rabid dog.--What o'clock is +it?" he asked himself. + +He was always accustomed to tell the time of the day to a minute, +without needing a watch, but now he had lost his reckoning. + +It was about six o'clock when he came back home; was it nine or ten +now? + +He durst not strike a light, for fear of being seen from without and +spoiling his little game. He waited a little more. + +The threatening shadows of the past gathered once more around him. + +All at once he heard some words whispered audibly. It was the curse +of the boy he had crippled for life. He shuddered with fear. In his +auto-suggestion he, for a moment, actually fancied he had heard those +words. Then he shrugged his shoulders, and tried to think of +pleasanter subjects. + +A curse is but a few idle words; still, since that time, not a decent +seaman had ever sailed with him. + +He could not bear the oppressive darkness any longer; peopled as it +was with shadows, it weighed upon him. He went into the inner room, +lit a match, looked at his watch. + +It was not yet nine o'clock. Time that evening was creeping on at a +sluggish pace. + +"Surely," he soliloquised, "if Vranic is coming he cannot delay much +longer." After a few seconds he put out the light and returned to the +front room. + +Soon afterwards, he heard a bell strike slowly nine o'clock in the +distance; then all was silence. The house was perfectly still and +quiet, and yet, every now and then, in the room in which he was +sitting, he could hear slight, unexplainable noises, like the soft +trailing of garments, or the shuffling of naked feet upon the stone +floor; stools sometimes would creak, just as if someone had sat upon +them; then small objects seemed stealthily handled by invisible +fingers. + +He tried to think of his business, always an engrossing subject, not +to be overcome by his superstitious fears. He had been a shrewd man, +he had mortgaged his house for its full value to Vranic himself to +buy the mythical cargo. Now that all his wealth was in bank-notes, or +in bright and big Maria Theresa dollars, he was free to go +whithersoever he chose. + +Still, it was vexing to think that if he killed that viper of a +Vranic, as he was in duty bound to do, he would have to flee from his +native town, and escape to the mountains, at least till affairs were +settled. It was a pity, for now the insurance society would make a +rich man of him, so he might have remained comfortably smoking his +pipe at home, and enjoying the fruits of many years' hard labour. + +A quarter-past nine! + +He began to wonder whether Milena--not seeing him come to fetch her +--would return home. Surely more than one young man would offer to +see her to her house. This thought made him gnash his teeth with rage. + +When once the venom of jealousy has found its way within the heart of +man, it rankles there, and, little by little, poisons his whole +blood. + +And again he thought: "That affair of Uros and Milenko has never been +quite clear; Vranic was false, there was no doubt about it; still, it +was not he who had invented the whole story. Had he not been the +laughing-stock of all his friends?" + +Half-past nine! + +How very slowly the hours passed! If he could only do something to +while away the time--pace up and down the room, as he used to do on +board, and smoke a cigarette; but that was out of the question. + +Hush! was there not a noise somewhere? It must have been outside; and +still it seemed to him as if it were in the house itself. Was it a +mouse, or some stray cat that had come in unperceived? No; it was a +continuous noise, like the trailing of some huge snake on the dry +grass. + +A quarter to ten! + +Silence once more. Now, almost all the town is fast asleep. He would +wait a little longer, and then? Well, if Vranic did not come soon, he +would not come at all, so it would be useless waiting. He wrapped +himself up in his great-coat, for the night was chilly, and had it +not been for the thought that Milena had fled with Vranic, sleepiness +would have overcome him. + +He thoughtlessly began making a cigarette, out of mere habit, just to +do something. It was provoking not to smoke just when a few puffs +would be such a comfort. + +Now he again hears the chimes at a distance; the deep-toned bell +rings the four quarters slowly; the vibrations of one stroke have +hardly passed away when the quiet air is startled by another stroke. +How much louder and graver those musical notes sound in the hushed +stillness of the night! + +Ten o'clock! + +Some towns--Venice, for instance--were all life and bustle at that +hour of the night; the streets and squares all thronged with masks +and merry revellers; the theatres, coffee-houses, dancing-rooms, were +blazing with light, teeming with life, echoing with music and +merriment. Budua is, instead, as dark, as lonesome, and as silent as +a city of the dead. The whole town is now fast asleep. + +"It is useless to wait any longer," mutters Radonic to himself; +"nobody is coming." + +The thought that his wife had fled with Vranic has almost become a +certainty. Jealousy is torturing him. He feels like gripping his +throat and choking himself, or dashing his head to pieces against the +stone wall. If his house had been in town, near the others, Vranic +might have waited till after ten o'clock; but, situated where it was, +no prying neighbours were to be feared. Something had, perhaps, +detained him. Still, what can detain a man when he has such an object +in view? + +Muttering an oath between his teeth, Radonic stood up. + +"Hush! What was that?" He listened. + +Nothing, or only one of the many unexplainable noises heard in the +stillness of the night. + +Perhaps, after all, Vranic had been on the watch the whole day, and +then he had seen him return. Perhaps--though he had never believed in +his friend's gift of second sight--Vranic was indeed a seer, and +could read within the minds of men. Perhaps, having still some +doubts, he would only come on the morrow. Anyhow, he would go to bed +and abide his time. He stretched his anchylosed limbs and yawned. + +Now he was certain he heard a noise outside. + +He stood still. It was like the sound of steps at a distance. He +listened again. This time he was not mistaken, though, indeed, it was +a very low sound. Stealthy steps on the shingle. He went on tiptoe to +the door. The sound of the steps was more distinct at every pace. +Moreover, every now and then, a stone would turn, or creak, or strike +against another, and thus betray the muffled sound of the person who +walked. + +Radonic listened breathlessly. + +Perhaps, after all, it was only Milena coming back home. He peeped +out, but he could not see anything. Was his hearing quicker than his +sight? + +He strained his eyes and then he saw a dark shadow moving among the +bushes, but even then he could only distinguish it because his eyes +were rendered keener by following the direction pointed out by his +ears. + +Was it Vranic, he asked himself. + +Aye, surely; who else could it be but Vranic? + +Still, what was he afraid of? No human eye could see him, no ear +detect his steps. + +Are we not all afraid of the crime we are about to commit? There is +in felony a ghastly shadow that either precedes or follows us. It +frightens even the most fearless man. + +Slowly the shadow emerged from within the darkness of the bushes and +came up towards the house. It was Vranic's figure, his shuffling +gait. + +Radonic's breast was like unto a glowing furnace, the blood within +his heart was bubbling like molten metal within a crucible. + +In a moment, that man--who was coming to seduce his wife and +dishonour him--would be within his clutches. + +Then he would break every bone within his body. He seemed to hear the +shivering they made as he shattered them into splinters, and he +shuddered. + +For a moment, the atrocity of the crime he was about to commit, +daunted him. + +Still, almost at the same time, he asked himself whether he were +going to turn coward at the last moment. + +Was he not doing an act of equity? How heinously had not this fiend +dealt by him! He had put him up against his wife, until, baited, she +was almost driven to adultery. No, the justice of God and man would +absolve him; if not--well, he had rather be hanged, and put his soul +in jeopardy, than forego his vengeance. He was a Slav. + +All these thoughts flitted through his brain in an instant, like +flashes of lightning following one another on a stormy night. + +Radonic watched the approaching shadow, from the cranny of the door +ajar, with a beating heart. + +Before Vranic came to the doorstep, he stopped. He looked round on +one side, then on the other; after that he cast a glance all around. +He bent his head forward to try and pierce the darkness that +surrounded him. Was he seeing ghosts? Then he seemed to be listening. +At last, convinced that he was alone, he again walked on. Now he was +by the door, almost on the sill, within reach of Radonic's grasp. He +stopped again. + +Radonic clasped his knife; he might have flung the door open, and +despatched him with a single blow. No, that would have been stupid. +It was better by far to let him come in, like a mouse into a trap, +and there be caught with his own bait. Yes, he would make the most of +his revenge, spit upon him, torture him. + +Slowly and noiselessly he glided back into a corner behind the door. +Some everlasting seconds passed. He waited breathlessly, for his +heart was beating so loud that he could only gasp. + +Had Vranic repented at the last instant? Had he gone back? Was he +still standing on the doorstep, waiting and watching? At last he +moved--he came up to the door--he slowly pushed it open; then again +he stopped. The darkness within was blacker than the darkness +without. + +"_Sst, pst!_" he hissed, like a snake. Then he waited. + +He came a step onward; then, in an undertone: "Milena, Milena, where +are you?" + +Again he waited. + +"Milena," he whispered; and again, louder: "Milena, are you here?" + +He stretched forth his hands, and groped his way in. Radonic could +just distinguish him. + +"Milena, my love, it is I, Vranic." + +Those few words were like a sharp stab to Radonic. He made a +superhuman effort not to move; for he wanted to see what the rascal +would do next. + +"Perhaps she has fallen asleep, or else has gone to bed," he muttered +to himself. + +He again advanced a few steps, always feeling his way. Evidently, he +was going towards the next room; for he knew the house well. All at +once, he stumbled against a stool. He was frightened; he thought +someone had clutched him by the legs. He recovered, and shut the door +behind him. It was a fatal step; for otherwise he might, perhaps, +have managed to escape. + +How easy it would now have been for Radonic to pounce upon him and +dash his brains out; but he wanted to follow the drama out to its +end, and now the last scene was at hand. + +Vranic, having shut the door, remained quiet for some time. He +fumbled in his pockets, took out his steel and flint, then struck a +light. At the first spark he might have seen Radonic crouching a few +steps from him, but he was too busy lighting the bit of candle he had +brought with him. When his taper shed its faint glimmer, then he +looked round, and, to his horror, he saw the figure of a man, with +glistening eyes, and a dagger in his hand, standing not far from him. +At first he did not recognise his friend, with shaven beard and in +his new attire; still, he did not require more than a second glance +to know who it was. + +Terror at once overpowered him; he uttered a low, stifled cry. +Retreat was now out of the question; he therefore tried to master his +emotion. + +"Oh! Radonic, is it you? How you frightened me! I did not recognise +you. But how is it that you have come back? and this change in----" + +"How is it that you are in my house at this hour of the night?" said +he, laying his hands on him. + +"I--I," quoth Vranic, gasping, "I came to see if everything was +quiet, as I promised, and seeing your door open----" + +"That is why you call Milena your love." + +"Did I? You are mistaken, Radonic--though perhaps I did; but then it +was only to see if she were expecting someone; you know women are +light----" + +"You liar, you villain, you devil!" And Radonic, clutching him by his +shoulders, shook him. + +"Believe me! I swear by my soul! I swear by the holy Virgin, whose +medals--blessed by the Church--I wear round my neck. May I be struck +down dead if what I say is not true!" + +"Liar, forswearer, wretch!" hissed out Radonic, as he spat in +Vranic's face. + +"I never meant to wrong you," replied Vranic, blubbering. "I came +here as a friend--I told you I would; may all the saints together +blind me if what I say be not true." + +But the husband, ever more exasperated, clutched his false friend by +the throat, and as he spouted out all his wrath, he kept gripping him +tighter and ever tighter. In his passion his convulsively clenched +fingers were like the claws of a bird of prey. + +Vranic now struggled in vain; the candle, which had been blown out, +had fallen from his fingers; he tried to speak, he gasped for breath, +he was choking. + +Radonic's grasp now was as that of an iron vice, and the more the +false friend struggled to get free, the stronger he squeezed. + +Vranic at last emitted a stifled, raucous, gurgling sound; then his +arms lost their strength, and when, a moment afterwards, the furious +husband relinquished his hold, his antagonist fell on the floor with +a mighty thud. + +The bells of the church were chiming in the distance. + +Radonic, shivering, shuddering, stood stock-still in the darkness +that surrounded him; he only heaved a noiseless sigh--the deep breath +of a man who has accomplished an arduous task. + +Vranic did not get up; he did not move. Was he dead? + +"Dead!" whispered Radonic to himself. + +Just then the body, prostrate at his feet, uttered a low, hoarse, +hollow sound. Was it the soul escaping from the body? + +He looked down, he looked round; black clouds seemed to be whirling +all around him like wreaths of smoke. He durst not move from where he +stood for fear of stumbling against the corpse. + +At last he took out his steel and began to strike a light, but in his +trepidation, he struck his fingers far oftener than his flint. At +last he managed to light a lantern on the table close by, and then +came to look at the man stretched on the floor. + +Oh, what a terrible sight he saw! He had till now seen murdered men +and drowned men, but never had he witnessed such a terrifying sight +before; it was so horrible that, like Gorgon's hideous head, it +fascinated him. + +After a few minutes' dumb contemplation, Radonic heaved again a deep +sigh, and whispered to himself: "It is a pity I did not leave him +time to utter a prayer, to confess his sins, to kiss the holy Cross +or the image of the saints. After all, I did not mean to kill the +soul and body together." Then, prompted by religious superstitions, or +by a Christian feeling--for he was of the Orthodox faith--he went to +a fount of holy water, dipped in it a withered olive twig, and came +to sprinkle the corpse, and made several signs of the holy Cross; +then he knelt down and muttered devoutly several prayers for the rest +of the soul of the man whom he had just murdered; then he sprinkled +and crossed him again. + +Had he opened the gates of paradise to the soul that had taken its +flight? Evidently he felt much comforted after having performed his +religious duties; so, rolling a cigarette, and lighting it at the +lantern, he went to sit on the doorstep outside and smoke. That +cigarette finished, he made another, and then another. At last, after +having puffed and mused for about an hour, he again went into the +house and made a bundle of all the things he wanted to take away with +him. Everything being ready, and feeling hungry, he went to the +cupboard, cut himself a huge slice of bread and a piece of cheese, +which he ate as slowly as if he were keeping watch on board; then he +took a long draught of wine, and, as midnight was striking, he left +the house. + +"I wonder," he thought, "where Milena is; anyhow, it is much better +she is away, for, had she been in the house, she might have given me +no end of useless trouble. Women are so fussy, so unpractical at +times." + +Thereupon he lighted his pipe. + +"Still," he soliloquised, "I should have liked to see her before +starting, to bid her good-bye. Who knows when I'll see her again, if +I ever do see her? And how I hope this affair will be settled soon, +and satisfactorily, too; he has no very near relations, and those he +has will be, in their hearts, most grateful to me." + +He trudged on wearily. When he passed Mara's house, he stopped, +sighed, and muttered to himself: + +"Good-bye! Milena. I loved you in my own churlish way; I loved you, +and if I've been unkind to you, it was all Vranic's fault, for he +drove me on to madness. Anyhow, he has paid for it, and dearly, too; +so may his soul rest in peace!" + +"And now," thought he, "it is useless fooling about; it is better to +be off and free in Montenegro before the murder is discovered and the +Austrian police are after me, for there is no trifling with this +new-fangled government that will not allow people to arrange their +little private affairs--it even belies our own proverb: 'Every one is +free in his own house.'" + +As he left the town, he bethought himself of what he was to do. First +he would see his father-in-law, and ask him to go down to town and +fetch his daughter, for it was useless to leave Milena alone in +Budua; life would not be pleasant there till the business of the +_karvarina_ was settled. Then, as Montenegro was always at war with +Turkey, he supposed that he would, as almost all _hayduk_, have to +take to fighting as an occupation, though, thank God, he said to +himself, not as a means of subsistence. + +It was, however, only at dawn that he managed to get out of the town +gate, together with some peasants going to their early work, and so +he crossed the frontier long before Vranic's murder was known in +town. + +On the morrow, when Milena fainted on the murdered man's corpse, she +was taken up and placed on her bed; she was sprinkled with water and +vinegar; she was chafed and fanned; a burning quill was placed under +her nose, but, as none of these little remedies could recall her to +life, medical help had to be sent for. Even when she came back to her +senses, another fainting-fit soon followed, so that she was almost +the whole day in a comatose state. + +Meanwhile (Tripko having summoned help), the house was filled with +people, who all bustled about, talked very loud, asked and answered +their own questions. Those gifted with more imagination explained to +the others all the incidents of the murder. Last of all came the +guards. Then they, with much ado and self-importance, managed to +clear the house. + +Though Mara would have liked to take Milena back home with her, still +the doctors declared that it was impossible to remove her from her +bed, where for many weeks she lay unconscious and between life and +death, for a strong brain-fever followed the fainting-fits. Her +father and mother (who had come to take her away) tended her, and +love and care succeeded where medical science had failed. + + + + +CHAPTER X + +PRINCE MATHIAS + + +Sailing from Trieste to Ragusa, the _Spera in Dio_ was becalmed just +in front of Lissa; for days and days she lay there on that rippleless +sea, looking like "a painted ship upon a painted ocean." + +It was towards the middle of spring, in that season of the year +called by the Dalmatians the _venturini_, or fortunate months, on +account of the shoals of sardines, anchovies, and mackerel, which +swim up the Adriatic, and towards that eastern part of its shores, +affording the people--whose barren land affords them but scanty +food--the main source of their sustenance. + +At last a faint breeze began to blow; it brought with it the sweet +scent of thyme and sage from the rocky coast only a few miles off, +and made the flabby sails flap gently against the masts, still, +without swelling them at all. Everyone on board the _Spera in Dio_ +was in hopes that the wind would increase when the moon rose, but the +sun went down far away in the offing, all shorn of its rays, and like +a huge ball of fire; then a slight haze arose, dimming the brightness +of the stars, casting over nature a faint, phosphorescent glimmer; +then they knew that the wind would not rise, for "the mist leaves the +weather as it finds it;" at least, the proverb says so. + +Already that afternoon the crew of the _Spera in Dio_ had seen the +waters of the sea--as far as eye could reach--bickering and +simmering; still, they knew that the slight shivering of the waters +was not produced by any ruffling wind, but by the glittering silver +scales of myriads of fish swimming on the surface of the smooth +waters. In fact, a flock of gulls was soon hovering and wheeling over +the main, uttering shrill cries of delight every time they dipped +within the brine and snatched an easy prey; then a number of dolphins +appeared from underneath, and began to plunge and gambol amidst the +shoal, feasting upon the fry. The fish, in a body, made for the +shore, hoping to find protection in shallower waters. Alas! a far +more powerful enemy was waiting for them there. + +Night came on; the fishermen lighted their resinous torches on the +prows of the boats, and the fish, attracted by the sheen, which +reflected itself down in the deep, dark water, were lured within the +double net spread out to catch them. + +When the shoal began to follow the deceptive light, the quiet waters +were struck with mighty, resounding thuds, and the terror-stricken +sardines swam hither and thither, helter-skelter, entangling +themselves within the meshes of that wall of netting spread out to +capture them. + +Thus the whole of that balmy summer night was passed in decoying and +frightening the shoal, in gathering it together, then in driving it +into the inlet where the nets were spread. + +At last, at early dawn, the long-awaited moment came. Every +fisherman, dumb with expectation, grasped the ropes of the net and +tugged with lusty sinews and a rare good-will. For the father, the +sustenance of his children at home lay in those nets; for the lover, +the produce of that first night's fishery would enable him to say +whether he could wed the girl he loves that year, or if the marriage +would have to be postponed till more propitious times. + +The strong men groaned under the weight they were heaving, but not a +word was spoken. Finally, the dripping nets were uplifted out of the +water. It was a rare sight to see the fish glistening like a mass of +molten silver within the brown meshes, just when the first +hyacinthine beams of the dawning sun fell upon their glossy, nacreous +scales. + +The captain and his two mates, the _pobratim_, rowed on shore and +took part in the general rejoicings, for nothing gladdens the heart +of man as abundance; moreover, they made a very good stroke of +business, for, having ready-money, they bought up, and thus secured, +part of their cargo for their return voyage. + +On the morrow, a fresh and steady breeze having begun to blow, the +lazy sails swelled out, the ship flew on the rippling waters, like a +white swan, and that very evening they dropped the anchor at Gravosa, +the port of Ragusa. + +How often the letter we have been so anxiously expecting only comes +to disappoint us, making us feel our sorrow more deeply. + +As soon as the post-office was opened, the _pobratim_ hurried there +to ask for letters. They both received several from their parents. +Uros read, with a sinking heart, what we already know, that Radonic +had killed Vranic, and that Milena was dangerously ill. Milenko +received a letter in a handwriting new to him. With a trembling hand +he tore open the envelope, unfolded the sheet of pale blue Bath +paper, containing an ounce of gold dust in it, and read the following +lines:-- + + +"Honoured Sir,--I take up my pen to keep the promise I so imprudently +made of writing to you, but this, which is the first, must also be +the last letter I ever pen. + +"Perhaps you will be angry with me, and think me inconstant, but +alas! this is not the case. Henceforth, I must never think of you, or +at least, only as a friend. It is not fated that we be man and wife, +and, as marriages are made in heaven, we must submit to what has been +decreed. + +"You must not think me heartless if I write to you in this way, but +the fact is, my father had--even before my birth--promised me in +marriage to the son of one of his friends, and this young man happens +to be your own friend and brother Uros. My only hope now is, that he, +as you hinted, being in love with someone else, will not insist upon +marrying me, or else I shall be the most wretched woman that ever +lived in this world. + +"My father, who is delighted with the marriage, for he has always +mistaken you for Uros, has already written to his old friend Bellacic +to remind him of his plighted word. Perhaps your friend will get his +father to write to mine, and explain the real state of things to him; +if not, I shall dearly regret the day you saved me from certain +death. + +"But why do I write all this to you. Perhaps, as the saying is: 'Far +from the eyes, far from the heart.' You have already forgotten the +wretched girl who owes her life to you, and must therefore love, +cherish, and ever be your most obedient servant, "IVANKA." + + +As poor Milenko read this letter, his cheeks grew pale, his heart +seemed to stop, he almost gasped for breath. He looked around; the +sky seemed to have grown dark, the world dreary, life a burden. Could +it be possible that, when the cup of happiness had touched his lips, +it would be snatched away from him and dashed down? + +The letter which he had read seemed to have muddled his brain. Was it +possible that the girl he loved so dearly was to marry his friend, +who did not care about her? and if she loved him, would she yield +tamely to her father's wish? Alas! what proper girl ever rebelled +against her father's decree? + +Milenko felt as if a hand of steel had been thrust within his breast, +gripped his heart and crushed it. + +All at once he was seized by a dreadful doubt. Did Uros know nothing +about all this, or was he conniving with his father to rob him of his +bride? He looked up at his friend, who was reading the letters he had +just received. The tidings they contained must have been far worse +than his own, for Uros' face was the very picture of despair. + +"What is the matter?" said Milenko; "bad news from home?" + +For all answer Uros handed the letter he had just been reading to his +friend; it was as follows:-- + + +"My dear Son,--The present lines are to inform you that we are both +well, your mother and myself, though, indeed, I have been suffering +with rheumatic pains in my right shoulder and in my left leg, as well +as occasional cramps in my stomach, for which the barber has cupped +me several times. As for your mother, she always suffers with sore +eyes, and though she tries to cure herself with vine-water and the +dew which the flowers distil on St. John's Eve, which is a specific, +as you know, still, it has not afforded her great relief. She is also +often ailing with a pain in her side; but these are only trifles. +Therefore, I hope that this letter will find you, Milenko and the +captain in as good health as that which we at present enjoy, and that +you have had a good and prosperous voyage. Here, at Budua, things are +always about the same. The weather has hitherto been very favourable +to the crops, and, with God's help, we must hope for a good harvest, +though the wind having blown down almost all the blossoms of the +almond-trees, there will be but little fruit. As for the vines, +little can be said as yet; whilst having had a good crop of olives +last year, we cannot expect much this autumn. + +"Our town is always very quiet. A fire only broke out here not long +ago, and it burnt down a few houses. As it was believed to have been +caused on account of a _karvarina_, bloodshed, as usual, ensued. +Another fact, which somewhat upset our town, was the death of Vranic, +who was found murdered in Radonic's house whilst Milena was spending +the evening with us. You may well understand how astonished every one +was, for Radonic and Vranic had been friends from their youth. +Although no one was ever very fond of Radonic, still nobody regretted +Vranic, who, as you know, was gifted with the evil eye; and although +I myself, not being superstitious, do not believe that persons can +harm you simply by looking at you, still it is useless to go against +facts. Poor Milena, who was the first to enter the house after the +murder--although your mother had accompanied her thither--was seized +by such a terrible fright that she remained soulless for many hours, +and has been ill ever since, though with care and good food we hope +to bring her round. + +"I was marvelled to hear how you fell in with the Giulianics, and +that your ship saved them from death. It is certainly a dispensation +of Providence, and--not being an infidel Turk--I do not see _Kismet_ +in everything that happens; still, the hand of the Almighty God is +clearly visible in all this. + +"Giulianic and I were friends when he, Markovic and myself were poor +folk, struggling hard to live and to put by a penny for a rainy day. +All three of us have, thank Heaven, succeeded beyond our +expectations, for I am glad to hear, by your account as well as his +own, that he is in such good circumstances. + +"One day--long before you were born--talking together and joking, we +made each other a kind of promise, more for the fun of the thing than +for anything else, that if we should have, the one a son, and the +other a daughter, we should marry them to each other. Not to forget +our promises, we exchanged tobacco-pouches. To tell you the truth, +not having heard of the Giulianics for so many years, I had all but +forgotten my promise, and I daresay he looked at his own pledge as a +kind of joke. On receiving your letter, however, I at once wrote to +this old friend, sending him back his gold-embroidered pouch and +redeeming mine. He at once wrote back a most affectionate letter, +saying that he was but too happy to give his daughter to the young +man who had saved Ivanka's life, but, apparently, had stolen away her +heart. Therefore, my dear son, you may henceforth consider yourself +engaged to the girl of your choice; and may the blessing of God and +of the holy Virgin rest on you both for ever. + +"Your mother wishes me to tell you not to forget your prayers morning +and evening, to try and keep all the fasts, and to light a candle to +St. Nicholas whenever you go on shore, so that he may keep you from +storms and shipwrecks. Besides, she bids me tell you, that if you +want more underclothing, to write to her in time, so that she may +prepare everything you need. + + "Your loving father, + + "Milos Bellacic." + + +Whilst Milenko was reading this letter, doubt returned several times +within his heart, and began to gnaw at it. As soon as he had +finished, he handed it back to Uros, and seeing his honest eyes fixed +upon him, as if asking for consolation, all doubts were at once +dispelled. + +"Well," said Uros, "it isn't enough to think that Milena is ill, but +all this complication must arise." + +"As for Milena," replied Milenko, "she is much better; here is a +letter from my mother, written after yours, in which she says that +she is quite out of danger." + +Comforted with the idea that the woman he loved was better, Uros +could not help smiling, then almost laughing. + +Milenko looked at him, astonished. + +"After all, this is your fault," said Uros. + +"Mine?" + +"Of course; you would insist in allowing old Giulianic to believe you +were myself; now there is only one thing left for you." + +"What?" + +"To act your part out." + +"I don't quite understand." + +"Go to Nona, and marry Ivanka at once; when married, Giulianic will +have to give you his blessing." + +"Oh! but----" + +"But what?" + +"I don't think Ivanka will consent." + +"If she loves you she will. I wish it was as easy for me to marry +Milena as it is for you to wed Ivanka." + +"But wouldn't it be better to get the father's consent?" + +"Old people are stubborn; once they get a thing into their heads, +it's difficult to get it out again." + +"Yes, but if----" + +"With 'buts' and 'ifs' you'll never marry." + +"What are you discussing?" said the captain, coming up. + +"Oh! I was simply saying that only a daring man deserves to wed the +girl he loves," said Uros. + +"Of course; don't you know the story of Prince Mathias?" + +"No," replied the young man. + +"Well, then, as we have nothing to do just now, listen, and I'll tell +it to you." + + +Once, in those long bygone times when rats fought with frogs, +tortoises ran races with hares and won them, pussies went about in +boots, and--I was going to add--women wore breeches, but, then, that +would not be such an extraordinary occurrence even now-a-days; well, +in those remote times, there lived a King who had a beautiful +daughter, as fair as the dawning sun, and as wise as an old rabbi +versed in the Kabala. In fact, she was so handsome and so learned +that her reputation had spread far and wide, and many a Prince had +come from far away beyond the sea to offer his hand and heart to this +wonderful Princess. She, however, would have none of them, for she +found that, although they--as a rule--rode like jockeys, drove like +cabmen and swore like carters, they were, on the whole, slow-coaches; +none of them, for instance, were good at repartee, none could discuss +German pessimism, and all--on the contrary--found that life was worth +living; so she would have nothing to do with them. + +She, therefore, send heralds to all the Courts of Chivalry to +proclaim that she would only wed the Prince who, for three successive +nights, could sit up and watch in her room, without falling asleep +and allowing her to escape. + +Every Prince who heard of the proclamation thought it a good joke, +and the candidates for the Princess's hand greatly increased. A host +of _Durchlauchten_ from the most sacred Protestant empire of Germany, +flocked--_Armen-reisender_ fashion--and offered to sit up in the +Princess's room for three nights, or even more if she desired it. + +Alas, for the poor Highnesses! every one paid the trial with his +life. The Princess--who knew a thing or two--provided for their +entertainment an unlimited supply of _Lager Bier_, and, moreover--it +was a cruel joke--she had a few pages read to them of the very book +each one had written, for, in those literary times, every Prince was +bound to write a book. At the end of the first chapter every Prince +snored. + +It happened that Prince Mathias--the only son and heir of a queen who +reigned in an out-of-the-way island, which was believed by its +inhabitants to be the centre of the world--heard of this strange +proclamation. He was the very flower of chivalry in those days, +strong as a bull, handsome as a stag--though rather inclined to be +corpulent--brave as a falcon, and as amorous as a cat in spring-time. +He at once resolved to risk his head, and go and spend the three +nights in the Princess's bedroom. + +His mother--a pious old lady, an excellent housekeeper, much attached +to her domestics, and known throughout the world as an elegant writer +of diaries--did her utmost to dissuade her son from his foolish +project; but all her wise remonstrances were in vain. Prince Mathias, +who was not the most dutiful of sons, allowed his mother to jaw away +till she was purple in the face, but her words went in by one ear and +out by the other; he remained steadfast to his purpose. Seeing at +last that praying and preaching were of no avail, Her Gracious +Majesty consented to her son's departure with royal grace. She doled +out to him a few ducats, stamped with her own effigy, and, knowing +his unthrifty ways, she said to herself: "He'll not go very far with +that." Then she presented him with a shawl to keep him warm at +nights, and she blessed him with her chubby hands, begging him to try +and keep out of mischief now that he had reached the years of +discretion. + +Mathias, wrapped up in his shawl, went off to seek his fortune. As he +was tramping along the high-road, he happened to meet a stout, +sleek-headed man who was lounging on the roadside. + +The Prince--who was very off-handed in his ways, and not very +particular as to the company he kept, or to the number of his +attachments, as the Opposition papers said--hailed the stout, +sleek-headed man. + +"Whither wanderest thou, my friend?" said Mathias to the loafer. + +"I tramp about the world in search of happiness," quoth he. + +"You're not a German philosopher, I hope?" asked the Prince, +terror-stricken. + +"I'm a true-born Dutchman, sir," retorted the loafer, with much +dignity. + +"Give us your paw," said His Highness. + +The friends shook hands. + +"What's your trade, my man?" + +"Well, I'm a kind of Jack-of-all-trades, without any trade in +particular--and yours?" + +"I'll be a kind of general overseer some day or other." + +"Good job?" + +"Used to be much better--too many strikes nowadays." + +"I see; it ruins the trade, does it?" + +"Our trade especially." + +"So?" + +"But what's your name?" asked the Prince. + +"Well, I'm generally known as 'The Big One.' You see, I can stretch +out my stomach to such a pitch that I can shelter a whole regiment of +soldiers in it. Shouldn't you like to see me do the trick?" + +"Swell away!" ejaculated the Prince. + +The Big One thereupon puffed and puffed himself out, and swelled +himself to such a pitch that he blocked up the highway from one side +to the other. + +"Bravo!" cried the Prince; "you're a swell!" + +"I'm a sell," said The Big One, smiling modestly. + +"A cell, indeed! But, I say, where did you learn that trick?" + +"Up in Thibet." + +"You're an adept, are you?" + +"I am," said the loafer. + +Mathias crossed himself devoutly. + +"I say, don't you want to accompany me in my wanderings, in a _sans +façon_ way?" + +"And take pot-luck with you?" said the adept, with a wink. + +Mathias took the hint. He jingled the few dollars he had in his +pocket, counted the six gold ducats his mamma had given him, and +reckoned the enormous amount of food his new friend might consume. On +the other hand, he bethought himself how useful a man who could +swallow a whole regiment might be in case of an insurrection; so he +shrugged his shoulders, and muttered to himself: + +"There'll be a row at the next meeting of the Witena-gemote, when my +debts 'll have to be paid; but if they want me to keep up appearances, +they must fork out the tin." Thereupon, turning to The Big One, he +added, magnificently: "It's a bargain." + +"You're a brick," said The Big One. + +On the morrow they met another tramp, so tall and so thin that he +looked like a huge asparagus, or like a walking minaret. His name was +The Long One; and he could, even without standing on tiptoe, lengthen +himself in such a way as to reach the clouds. Moreover, every step he +made was the distance of a mile. + +As he, too, was seeking his fortune, the Prince took him on in his +suite. + +The day after that, as the three were going through a wood, they came +across a man with such flashing eyes that he could light a +conflagration with only one of his glances. Of course, they took him +on with them. + +After tramping about for three days, they got to the castle where the +wonderful Princess lived. Mathias held a council with his friends, +and told them of his intentions. Then he changed his gold ducats, +pawned his mother's shawl, bought decent clothes for the tramps, and +made his entrance into the town with all the pomp and splendour due +to his rank. + +As he was travelling _incog._, he sent his card--a plain one without +crown or coat-of-arms--to the King of the place, announcing that he +had come with his followers to spend three nights in his daughter's +bedroom. + +"Followers not admitted," replied the King. + +"All right!" retorted the Prince, ruefully. + +"You know the terms, I suppose?" + +"Death or victory!" + +The King made him a long speech, terse and pithy, as royal speeches +usually are. The Prince, who listened with all attention, tried to +yawn without opening his mouth. + +"Yawn like a man!" said the King; "I don't mind it, do you?" said he +to the prime minister, who had written the speech. + +"I'm used to it," said the premier. + +"Well! do you persist in your intention?" asked the King at the end +of the speech. + +"I do!" quoth the Prince. + +"Then I'll light you up to my daughter's door." + +Having reached the landing of the second floor, the King shook hands +with the Prince and his followers; he wished them good-night; still, +he lingered for a while on the threshold. + +Mathias was dazzled with the superhuman beauty of the royal maiden, +who was quite a garden in herself, for she was as lithe as a lily, as +graceful as a waving bough, with a complexion like jasmines and +roses, eyes like forget-me-nots, a mouth like a cherry, breasts like +pomegranates, and as sweet a breath as mignonette. + +She could not hide the admiration she felt for Mathias, and +congratulated him especially on never having written a book. + +When the old King heard that Mathias was not an author, he was so +sorely troubled that he took up his candle and went off to bed. + +No sooner had His Majesty taken himself off than The Big One went and +crouched on the threshold of the door; The Long One made himself +comfortable on one of the window-sills; The Man with the Flashing +Eyes on the other. All three pretended to go off to sleep, but in +reality they were all watching the Princess, who was carrying on a +lively conversation with Mathias. + +"Do you like Schopenhauer?" asked the royal maiden, with a smile like +a peach blossom opening its petals to the breeze. + +"I like you," said Mathias, looking deep in the eyes of the young +girl, who at once blushed demurely. + +"But you don't answer my question," she said. + +"Well, no," quoth Mathias; "I don't like Schopenhauer." + +"Why not?" + +"Because we differ in tastes." + +"How so?" + +"You see, I'm rather fond of the girls; he isn't." + +"Of all girls?" asked the Princess, alarmed. + +"All girls in general, but you in particular," added Mathias with a +wink. + +The young girl thought it advisable to change the conversation. + +After a while the Princess began to yawn. + +"Sleepy, eh?" said Mathias, with a smile. + +"I feel as if a rain of poppies was weighing down my eyelids." + +"Have a snooze, then." + +"I'm afraid you'll feel rather lonely, sitting up by yourself all +night." + +"Oh! don't mind me," said Mathias; "I never turn in very early; +besides, I'll have a game of _patience_." + +"But I've got no cards to offer you," said the Princess. + +"I have; I never travel without a pack in my pocket." + +"You're sharp." + +"Sharper than many who think themselves sharp." + +Mathias settled himself comfortably at a table and began to play. The +Princess undressed, said her prayers, then went off to bed. + +The Prince played one, two, three games; then he felt his throat +rather dry, and would have given half of his kingdom for a glass of +grog; than he began to wonder if there was any whisky in the house. + +Just then, he heard the three men snoring, and the little Princess +purring away like a wee kitten. He stretched his arms and his legs, +for he felt himself getting stiff. He then tried to play another +game, but he could not go on with it; for he kept mistaking the +hearts for the diamonds, and then could no more distinguish the clubs +from the spades. He also began to feel chilly, and was sorry not to +have his mammy's shawl to wrap himself up in. He, therefore, laid his +elbows on the table, and his head between the palms of his hands, and +stared at the Princess, whom he fancied looked very much like the +sleeping beauty at the waxworks. + +Little by little his eyelids waxed heavy, his pupils got to be +smaller and smaller, his sight grew blurred, and then everything in +front of him disappeared. Prince Mathias was snoring majestically. + +"It took him a long time to drop off, but he's asleep at last," said +the Princess, with a sigh. + +She thereupon changed herself into the likeness of a dove, and flew +out of the window where The Long One was asleep. Only, on making her +escape, she happened to graze the sleeping man's hair. He forthwith +started up, and, seeing that the Princess's bed was empty, he at once +gave the alarm, and woke The Man with the Flashing Eyes, who cast a +long look in the darkness outside. That burning glance falling upon +the dove's wings singed them in such a way that she was obliged to +take shelter in a neighbouring tree. The Man with the Flashing Eyes +kept a sharp watch, and the splendour of his pupils, shining on the +bird, were like the revolving rays of a lighthouse. The Long One +thereupon put his head out of the window, stretched out his hand a +mile off, grasped the dove, and quietly handed her to Mathias. + +No sooner had Mathias pressed the dove to his heart than, lo and +behold! he found that he was clasping in his arms, not a bird, but +the Princess herself. + +Mathias could not help uttering a loud exclamation of surprise; the +three men uttered the selfsame exclamation. All at once the door of +the Princess's bedroom flew open with a bang. The old King appeared +on the threshold, with a dip in his hand. His Majesty looked very +much put out. + +"I say, what's all this row about?" said he; "billing and cooing at +this time of the night, eh?" Thereupon His Majesty frowned. + +The Princess nestled in Mathias's arms, blushing like a peony, for +she saw that the flowing sleeves of her nightgown were dreadfully +singed, and she knew that the colour would never go off in the wash. + +The King, casting a stealthy look round the room, saw the cards on +the little table by the Princess's bed, and pointing them out to +Mathias with a jerk of his thumb: + +"I see your little tricks, sir, and with your own cards, too; +gambling again, eh?" + +Mathis looked as sheepish as a child caught with his finger in a +jam-pot. The King thereupon snuffed the wick of his candle with his +own royal fingers, picked up the ermine-bordered train of his +night-gown and stalked off to bed, without even saying good-night +again. + +"Your father's put out," said Mathias to the Princess. + +"He's thinking of the expense you'll be putting him to, you and your +suite." + +"What! is he going to ask us to dinner?" + +"Can't help it, can he?" and the Princess chuckled. + +On the second night the Princess flew away in the likeness of a fly; +but she was soon brought back. On the third night she transformed +herself into a little fish, and gave the three men no end of trouble +to fish her out of the pond in which she had plunged. + +At last the Princess confessed herself vanquished. Mathias had been +the only one of all her suitors who had managed to get her back every +time she had escaped; moreover, she had been quite smitten by his +jovial character and convivial ways. + +The old King, however, strenuously disapproved of his daughter's +choice. Mathias was not a _Durchlaucht_, he had never written a book, +and, moreover, he played _patience_ with his own pack of cards. He, +therefore, resolved to oppose his daughter's marriage, and, being an +autocrat, his will was law in his own country. + +Mathias, however, presented the King with a packet of photographs +that he happened to have about him; they were all respectable ladies +of his acquaintance, belonging to different _corps de ballet_. So +while the King was trying to find out, with a magnifying-glass, what +Miss Mome Fromage had done with her other leg--like the tin soldier +in Andersen's tale--Mathias ran off with the Princess. + +Then the King got dreadfully angry and ordered his guards to run +after the fugitives. + +The Princess, hearing the tramp of horses' feet, asked The Man with +the Flashing Eyes to look round and see who was pursuing them. + +"I see a squadron of cavalry riding full speed," said The Man with +the Flashing Eyes. + +"It's my father's body-guard." + +"Hadn't we better hide in a bush, and leave them to ride on?" asked +Mathias. + +"No," replied the Princess. + +Seeing the horsemen approach, she took off the long veil she wore at +the back of her head, and threw it at them. + +"As many threads as there are in this veil, may as many trees arise +between us." + +In a twinkling, a dense forest arose, like a drop-scene, between the +fugitives and the guards. + +Mathias and his bride had not gone very far, when they heard again +the sound of horses. + +The Man with the Flashing Eyes looked round and saw again the King's +body-guard galloping after them. + +"Can you dodge them again?" asked Mathias. + +The Princess, for an answer, dropped a tear, and then bade it swell +into a deep river between them and their pursuers. + +The river rolled its massy waters through the plain, while Mathias +and his bride strolled away unmolested. + +Again they heard the sound of horses' hoofs; again the guards were +about to seize the runaways; again the Princess, drawing herself up +in all the majesty of her little person, stretched out her arm +threateningly, and ordered the darkness of the night to wrap them up +as with a deep shroud. + +At these words, The Long One grew longer and ever longer, until he +reached the clouds; then, taking off his cap, he deftly clapped it on +half of the sun's disc, leaving the royal guards quite in the shade. + +When Mathias and his bride were about ten miles off, The Long One +strode away and caught up with them after ten steps. + +Mathias was already in sight of his own castellated towers, when the +clatter of horses was again heard close behind them. + +"There'll be bloodshed soon," said the Prince to his bride. + +"Oh! now leave them all to me," said The Big One; "it's my turn now." + +The lovers, followed by The Long One and The Man with the Flashing +Eyes, entered the city by a postern, whilst The Big One squatted +himself down at the principal gate and puffed himself out; then he +opened his mouth as wide as the gate itself, so that it looked like a +barbican. Thus he waited for the dauntless life-guards, who, in fact, +came riding within his mouth as wildly as the noble six hundred had +ridden within the jaws of death. + +When the last one had disappeared, The Big One rose quietly, but at +the same time with some difficulty, and tottered right through the +town. It was an amusing sight to see his huge bloated paunch flap +hither and thither at every step he made. Having reached the opposite +gate, he again crouched down, opened his capacious mouth and spouted +out all the life-guards, horses and all; and it was funny to see them +ride off in a contrary direction, evidently hoping to overtake the +fugitives soon, whilst the Prince, his bride and his suite were on +the battlements, splitting with laughter at the trick played on their +pursuers. + +The old Queen was rejoiced to see her truant son come back so soon, +and, moreover, not looking at all as seedy as he usually did after his +little escapades. Still, she could not help showing her +dissatisfaction about two things. The first was that Mathias had +pawned her parting gift; the second that the Princess had come +without a veil. + +This last circumstance was, however, easily explained; and then Her +Most Gracious Majesty allowed the light of her countenance to shine +on her future daughter-in-law. + +The Long One was forthwith sent back to the old King, asking him, by +means of a parchment letter, to come and assist at his daughter's +wedding. His Majesty, hearing who Mathias really was, hastened to +accept the invitation. He donned his crown, took a few valuables with +him in a carpet-bag, fuming and fretting all the time at having to +start--like a tailless fox--without his body-guard. Just as he was +setting out, The Long One, stretching his neck a few miles above the +watch tower and looking round, saw the horsemen riding back full +speed towards the castle. The old King hearing this news, shook his +head, very much puzzled, for he could not understand how the +horsemen, who had ridden out by one gate, could be coming back by the +other. The Long One explained to the King (what they never would have +been able to explain themselves) that they had simply ridden round +the world and come back the other side. His Majesty, who would +otherwise have had all his guards put to death, forgave them right +graciously, and to show Mathias that he bore him no ill-will, he +presented him, as a wedding gift, with a valuable shawl he had just +got second-hand at a pawnbroker's. That gift quite mollified the old +Queen, and forthwith, as by enchantment, all the clouds looming on +the political horizon disappeared, and the nuptials of Mathias and +the Princess took place with unusual splendour. + +The Princess gave up her freaks of disappearing in the middle of the +night, Mathias never played _patience_ with his own cards any more, +and both set their people an example of conjugal virtue. + +High posts at Court were created for the Prince's three friends, and +they, indeed, often showed themselves remarkably useful. For +instance, if a Prime Minister ever showed himself obstreperous, The +Long One would stretch out his arm, catch him by the collar of his +coat, and put him for a few days on some dark cloud under which the +thunder was rumbling. If a meddling editor ever wrote an article +against the prevailing state of things, The Man with the Flashing +Eyes cast a look at his papers, and the fire brigade had a great ado +to put out the conflagration that ensued. If the people, dissatisfied +with peace and plenty, met in the parks to sing the Marseillaise, The +Big One had only to open his mouth and they at once all went off as +quietly as Sunday-school children, and all fell to singing the +National Anthem. Anarchy, therefore, was unknown in a land so well +governed, and flowing with milk and honey. + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +MANSLAUGHTER + + +The _Spera in Dio_ having reached Gravosa, it discharged the timber +it had taken for Ragusa, and loaded a valuable cargo of tobacco from +Trebigne in its stead. The ship was now lying at anchor, ready to set +sail with the fresh morning breeze. + +It was in the evening. The captain was in hopes to start on the +morrow; for at night it is a difficult task to steer a ship through +that maze of sunken rocks and jagged reefs met with all along the +entrance of the Val d'Ombla. + +The _pobratim_ had been talking together for some time. Uros had +tried to persuade his friend to go and marry Ivanka before the +mistake under which her father was labouring had been cleared up; but +the more the plan was discussed, the less was Milenko convinced +of its feasibility. + +Uros at last, feeling rather sleepy, threw himself into his hammock, +and soon afterwards closed his eyes. Milenko, instead, stood for some +time with his arms resting on the main-yard, smoking and thinking, +his eyes fixed on the moon, in its wane, now rising beyond the rocky +coast, from which the cypresses uplifted their dark spires, and the +flowering aloes reared their huge stalks. + +The warm breeze blew towards him a smell of orange blossoms from the +delightful Val d'Ombla, and the fragrancy of the Agnus castus, the +Cretan sage, and other balmy herbs and shrubs from that little Garden +of Eden--the Island of La Croma. Feeling that he could not go to +sleep, even if he tried, and finding the earth so fair, bathed as it +was now by the silvery light of the moon, he made up his mind to go +on shore and have a stroll along the strand. + +What made him leave the ship at that late hour, and go to roam on the +deserted shore? Surely one of those secret impulses of fate, of which +we are not masters. + +He had walked listlessly for some time on the road leading to Ragusa, +when he heard the loud, discordant sounds of two men, apparently +drunk, wrangling with each other. The men went on, then stopped +again, then once more resumed their walk; but, at every step they +made, their voices grew louder, their tones angrier. Both spoke Slav; +but, evidently, one of the two must have been a foreigner. Milenko +followed them, simply for the sake of doing something. When he got +nearer, he understood that the cause of the quarrel was not a woman, +as he had believed at first, but a sum of money which the Slav had +lent to the foreigner. + +As they kept repeating the selfsame things over and over, Milenko got +tired of their discussion and was about to turn back. Just then, +however, the two men stopped again. The Slav called the stranger a +thief, who in return apostrophised him as a dog of a Turk. From words +they now proceeded to blows; but, drunk as they apparently were, they +did not seem to hurt each other very much. Milenko hastened on to see +the struggle, for there is a latent instinct, even in the most +peaceable man's nature, that makes him enjoy seeing a fight. + +By the time Milenko came in sight of the two men, they had begun to +fight in real earnest; blows followed blows, kicks kicks; the Slav +--or rather, Turk--roused by the stranger's taunts, seemed to be +getting over his drunkenness. He was a tall, powerful man, and +Milenko saw him grip his adversary by his neck. Then the two men +grappled with each other, reeled in their struggle, then rolled down +on the ground. He heard the thud of their fall. Milenko hastened to +try and separate them. As he got nearer he could see them clearly, +for the light of the moon fell upon them. The stronger man was +holding his adversary pinned down, and was muttering the same curses +over and over again; but he did not seem to be ill-using him very +much. + +"Leave me alone," muttered the other, "or, by my faith, it'll be so +much the worse for you!" + +"Your faith! you have no faith, you dog of a giaour!" growled the +other. + +"I have no faith, have I? Well, then, here, if I have no faith!" + +Milenko, for a moment, saw a knife glitter in the moonlight, then it +disappeared. He heard at the same time a loud groan. He ran up to +help the man from being murdered, regardless of his own safety. + +The powerful man was trying to snatch the knife from his adversary's +hand, but, as he was unable to do so, he rose, holding his side, from +which the blood was rushing. + +"Now you'll have your money!" said the little man, with a hideous +laugh, and he lifted up his hand and stabbed his adversary +repeatedly. + +Milenko pulled out his own knife as he reached the spot, but he only +got in time to catch the dying man in his arms and to be covered with +his blood. + +The murderer simply looked at his adversary, and hearing him breathe +his last, "He's done for," he added; then he turned on his heels and +disappeared. + +Poor Milenko was stunned for a moment, as he heard the expiring man's +death-rattle. + +What could he do to help him? Was life ebbing? had it ebbed all away? +he asked himself. Was he dead, or only fainting? could he do nothing +to recall him to life? + +As he was lost in these thoughts he heard the heavy tramp of +approaching feet, and before he could realise the predicament in +which he had placed himself, the night-watch had come up to the spot +and had arrested him as the murderer. + +"Why do you arrest me?" said he. "I have only come here by chance to +help this poor man." + +"I daresay you have," said the sergeant, taking the blood-stained +dagger from his hand. + +"But I tell you I do not even know this poor man." + +"Come, it's useless arguing with us; you'll have to do that with your +judges. March on." + +"But when I tell you that I only heard a scuffle and ran up----" + +"Then where's the murderer?" asked one of the guards. + +"He's just run off." + +"What kind of a man was he?" + +"I hardly saw him." + +"And where do you come from?" asked the sergeant. + +"From on board my boat, the _Spera in Dio_, now lying at Gravosa." + +"And where were you going to?" + +"Nowhere." + +"Oh! you were taking a little stroll at this time of the night?" + +The men laughed. + +"Come, we're only wasting time----" + +"But----" + +"Stop talking; you'll have enough of that at Ragusa." + +"But I tell you I'm innocent of that man's death." + +"You are always innocent till you are about to be hanged, and even +then sometimes." + +Milenko shuddered. + +Thereupon the guards, taking out a piece of rope, began tying the +young man's hands behind his back. + +"Leave me free; I'll follow you. I've nothing on my conscience to +frighten me." + +Still, they would not listen to him, but led him away like a +murderer. They walked on for a little more than half-an-hour on the +dark road, and at last they arrived at Porta Pilla, one of the gates +of Ragusa. They crossed the principal street, called the Stradone, +and soon reached the Piazza dei Signori. The quiet town was quieter +than ever at these early dawning hours. The heavy steps of the guards +resounded on the large stone flags with which the town is paved, and +re-echoed from the granite walls of the churches and palaces. + +Poor Milenko was conducted to the guard-house, and when the sergeant +stated how he had been found clasping the dead man, holding, +moreover, the blood-stained dagger in his hand, he, without more ado, +was thrust into the narrow cell of the prison. + +Alone, in utter darkness, a terrible fear came over him. How could he +ever prove that he had not murdered the unknown man with whose blood +his clothes were soaked? + +The assassin was surely far away now, and, even if he were not, he +doubtless knew that another man had been caught in his stead, and he, +therefore, would either keep quiet or stealthily leave the town. If +he had at least caught a glimpse of the murderer's face, then he +might recognise him again; but he had seen little more than two dark +forms struggling together. Nothing else than that. + +Then he asked himself if God--if the good Virgin--would allow them to +condemn him to death innocently? He fell on his knees, crossed +himself, and uttered many prayers; but, during the whole time, he saw +his body hanging on the gallows, and, with that frightful sight +before his eyes, his prayers did not comfort him much. + +Then he began to fancy that he must have been guilty of some sin for +which he was now being punished. Though he recalled to mind all his +past life, though he magnified every little misdemeanour, still he +could not find anything worthy of such a punishment. He had kept all +the fasts; he had gone to church whenever he had been able to do so; +he had lighted a sufficient number of candles to the saints to secure +their protection. If, at times, he had been guilty of cursing, of +calling the blessed Virgin Mary opprobrious names, he only had done +so as a mere habit, as everybody else does, quite unintentionally. +The priest--at confession--had always admonished him against this bad +habit; but he had duly done penance for these trifling sins, and he +had got the absolution. + +He asked himself why he was so unlucky. He had not fallen in love +with his neighbour's wife, nor asked for impossible things. Why could +not life run on smoothly for him, as it did for everybody else? What +devil had prompted him to leave his ship at a time when he might have +been quietly asleep? Then the thought struck him that, after all, +this was only a bewildering dream, from which he would awake and +laugh at on the morrow. + +He got up, walked about his narrow cell, feeling his way in the +darkness. Alas! this was no dream. + +Then he thought of his parents; he pictured to himself the grief they +would feel at hearing of his misfortune. His mother's heart would +surely burst should he be found guilty and be condemned to be hanged. +And his father--would he, too, believe him to be a murderer? + +He again sank on his knees, and uttered a prayer; not the usual +litanies which he had been taught, but a _Kyrie Eleison_, a cry for +help rising from the innermost depths of his breast. + +The darkness of the prison was so oppressive that it seemed to him as +if his prayer could never go through those massive stone walls; +therefore, instead of being comforted, doubt and dread weighed +heavily upon him. In that mood he recalled to his mind all the +incidents of a gloomy story which had once been related to him about +a little Venetian baker-boy, who, like himself, had been found guilty +of manslaughter. This unfortunate youth had been imprisoned, cruelly +tortured, and then put to death. When it was too late, the real +murderer confessed his guilt; but then the poor boy was festering in +his grave. + +Still, he would not despair, for surely Uros must, on the morrow, +hear of his dreadful plight, and then he would use every possible and +impossible means to save him. + +But what if the ship started on the morrow, leaving him behind, a +stranger in an unknown town? + +The tears which had been gathering in his eyes began to roll down his +cheeks in big, burning drops, and now that they began to flow he +could not stop them any more. He crouched in a corner, and, as the +cold, grey gloaming light of early dawn crept through the grated +window of his cell, his heavy eyelids closed themselves at last; +sleep shed its soothing balm on his aching brain. + +Not long after Milenko had gone on shore, Uros woke suddenly from his +sleep. He had dreamt that a short, dark-haired, swarthy, one-eyed +man, with a face horribly pitted by small-pox, was murdering his +friend; and yet it was not Milenko either, but some one very much +like him. + +He jumped up, groped his way to his mate's hammock and was very much +astonished not to find him there. Having lost his sleep, he lit a +cigarette and went to look down into the waters below. The sea on +that side of the ship was as smooth and as dark as a black mirror. He +had not been gazing long when, as usual, he began to see sparks, then +fiery rods whirling about and chasing each other. The rods soon +changed into snakes of all sizes and colours, especially +greenish-blue and purple. They twirled and twisted into the most +fantastic shapes; then they all sank down in the waters and +disappeared. All this was nothing new; but, when they vanished, he +was startled to behold, in their stead, the face of the pitted man he +had just seen in his sleep stare at him viciously with his single +eye. He drew back, frightened, and the face vanished. After an +instant, he looked again; he saw nothing more, but the inky waters +seemed thick with blood. + +The next morning Milenko was looked for everywhere uselessly. Uros, +who was the last person that had seen him, related how he had gone +off to sleep and had left him leaning on the main-yard. At first, +every one thought that he had gone on shore for something, and that +he would be back presently; but time passed and Milenko did not make +his appearance. The wind was favourable, the sails were spread, they +had only to heave the anchor to start; everybody began to fear that +some accident had happened to him to detain him on shore. Uros was +continually haunted by his dream, especially by the face of the +single-eyed man. He offered to go in search of his friend. + +"Well," replied the captain, "I think I'll come with you; two'll find +him quicker than one alone, for now we have no time to lose." + +They went on shore and enquired at a coffee-house, but the sleepy +waiters could not give them any information. They asked some boatmen +lounging about the wharf, still with no better success. A porter from +Ragusa finally said that he had heard of a murder committed that +night on the road, but all the particulars were, as yet, unknown. +Doubtless it was a skirmish between some smugglers and the watch. + +Anyhow, when Uros heard of bloodshed, his heart sank within him, and +the image of the swarthy man appeared before the eyes of his mind, +and he fancied his friend weltering in a pool of dark blood. + +"Had we not better go at once to Ragusa? we might hear something +about him there?" said the captain to Uros. + +"But do you think he can have been murdered?" + +"Murdered? No; what a foolish idea! He had no money about him; he was +dressed like a common sailor; he could not have been flirting with +somebody's sweetheart. Why should he have been murdered?" + +The two men hired a gig and drove off at once. When they reached +Ragusa, they found the quiet town in a bustle on account of a murder +that had taken place on the roadside. The old counts and marquises of +the republic forgot their wonted dignity--forgot even their drawling +way of speaking--and questioned the barber, the apothecary, or the +watch at the town gate with unusual fluency. + +A murder on the road to Gravosa! A most unheard-of thing. Soon people +would be murdered within the very walls of the town! Such things had +never happened in the good olden times! + +"And who was the murdered man?" asked one. + +"A stranger." + +"And the murderer?" + +"A stranger, too; a mere boy, they say." + +"Oh! that explains matters," added a grave personage; "but if +strangers will murder each other, why do they not stay at home and +slaughter themselves?" + +Such were the snatches of conversation Uros and the captain heard on +alighting at Porta Pilla; and as they asked their way to the police +station, everybody stared at them, and felt sure that in some way or +other they were connected with the murder. + +At the police station, the captain stated how his mate had +disappeared from on board, and asked permission to see the murdered +man. They were forthwith led to the mortuary-chapel, and they were +glad to see that the corpse was a perfect stranger. + +"What kind of a person is the young man you are looking for?" asked +the guard who had accompanied them. + +"Rather above the middle height, slim but muscular, with greyish-blue +eyes, a straight nose, a square chin, curly hair, and a small dark +moustache." + +"And dressed like a sailor?" + +"Yes." + +"Exactly as you are?" said he to Uros. + +"Yes; have you seen him?" + +"Why, yes; he is the murderer." + +Uros shuddered; the captain laughed. + +"There must be some mistake," said the latter. "You have arrested the +wrong person; such things do happen occasionally." + +"He was arrested while struggling with the man he killed. He was not +only all dripping with blood, but he still held his dagger in his +hand." + +"With all that, it's some mistake; for he didn't know this man," said +the captain, pointing to the corpse stretched out before them. "If he +did kill him, then it was done in self-defence." + +"But where is he now?" asked Uros. + +"Why, in prison, of course." + +Uros shuddered again. + +"We can see him, can't we?" said the captain. + +"You must apply to the authorities." + +The departure of the _Spera in Dio_ had to be put off for some days. +Uros went on board the ship, whilst the captain remained at Ragusa to +look after his lost mate. There he soon found out that, in fact, it +was Milenko who had been arrested; and after a good deal of trouble +he succeeded in seeing him. + +Although he did his best to comfort him and assure him that in a few +days the real murderer would be found, he could not help thinking +that the evidence was dead against him. Anyhow, he had him +transferred to a better cell, and, by dint of _backseesh_, saw that +his bodily comforts were duly attended to. + +On the following day, the captain, Uros and the crew were examined; +and all were of opinion that Milenko could not possibly ever have +been acquainted with the unknown man, and, therefore, had no possible +reason for taking away his life. The great difficulty, meanwhile, was +to find out who the murdered man really was, from where he had come, +whither he was going in the middle of the night. + +After that, the captain went to a lawyer's; and having put the whole +affair in his hands, found out that he could do nothing more for +Milenko than he had already done; so he went and lit a candle for his +sake, recommended him to the mercy of the Virgin and good St. +Nicholas, and decided to start on the following morning, without any +further and unprofitable delay. Had the young man been his own son, +he would not have acted otherwise. Uros, however, decided to remain +behind, and join the ship at Trieste after a few days. + +On the morrow Uros, after having seen the _Spera in Dio_ disappear, +went to spend a few hours with his friend. A week passed in this way; +then, not knowing in what way to help Milenko, he bethought himself +to seek the aid of some old woman versed in occult lore, in whose +wisdom he had much more faith than in the wordy learning of gossiping +lawyers. + +Having succeeded in hearing of such a one from the inn-keeper's wife, +he went to her at once and explained what he wanted of her. + +She looked at him steadily for a while; then she went to an old chest +and took out a quaint little mirror of dark, burnished metal, and +making him sit in a corner, bade him look steadily within it. As soon +as he was seated, she took a piece of black cloth, like a pall, and +stretched it around him, screening him from every eye. Having done +this, she threw some powder on the fire, which, burning, filled the +room with fragrant smoke, or rather, with white vapour, which had a +heady smell of roses. After a few moments of silence, she took the +_guzla_ and played, as a kind of prelude, a pathetic, dirge-like +melody; then she began to sing in a low, lamentable tone, Vuk +Stefanovic Karadzic's song, entitled-- + + +GOD'S JUSTICE. + + Upon a lonely mead two pine-trees grew, + And 'twixt the two a lowly willow-tree; + No pines were those upon the lonely mead, + Where nightly winds e'er whistle words of woe. + The one was Radislav--a warrior brave; + Whilst Janko was the other stately tree. + They were two brothers, fond of heart and true; + The weeping willow-tree that rose between + Had whilom been their sister Jelina. + Both brothers loved the maid so fair and good, + Fair as a snow-white lily fresh with dew, + And good, I ween, as a white turtle-dove. + Once Janko to his sister gave a gift; + It was a dagger with a blade of gold. + That day Marija, who was Janko's wife + (A wanton woman with a wicked heart), + Grew grey and green with envy and with grudge, + And to Zorizza, Radislavo's wife, + She said: "Pray tell me in what way must I + Get these two men to hate that Jelina, + Whom they love more, indeed, than you or me." + "I know not," said Zorizza, who was good-- + Aye, good indeed, and sweet as home-made bread; + "And if I knew, I should pray day and night + For God to keep me from so foul a deed." + Marija wended then her way alone, + And as her head was full of fiendish thoughts, + She saw upon the mead her husband's foal, + The fleetest-footed filly of the place. + Whilst with one hand she fondled the young foal, + The other plunged a dagger in her breast; + Then, taking God as witness, swore aloud + That Jelina had done that deed of blood. + With doleful voice the brother asked the girl + What made her mar the foal he loved so well. + Upon her soul the maiden took an oath + That she nowise had done that noxious deed. + A few days later, on a dreary night, + Marija went and killed the falcon grey-- + The swiftest bird, well worth its weight in gold. + Then creeping back to bed, with loud outcry + She woke the house; she said that, in a dream, + She saw her Janko's sister, as a witch, + Kill that grey falcon Janko loved so well. + Behold! at early morn the bird was dead. + "This cruel deed shall rest upon thy head," + Said Janko to the girl, who stood amazed. + E'en after this Marija found no peace, + But hated Jelina far more than death, + So evermore she pondered how she could + Bring dire destruction down upon the maid. + One night, with stealthy steps, she went and stole + The golden-bladed knife from Jelka's room; + And with the knife she stabbed her only babe. + The foul deed done, she put the knife beneath + The pillow white whereon lay Jelka's head. + At early twilight, when the husband woke, + He found his rosy babe stabbed through the breast, + All livid pale within a pool of blood. + Marija tore her hair and scratched her cheeks + With feigned despair; she vowed to kill the witch + Who wantonly had stabbed her precious babe. + "But who has done this cruel, craven crime? + Who killed my child?" cried Janko, mad with rage. + "Go seek thy sister's knife, with golden blade; + Forsooth, 'tis stained with blood." And Janko went, + And found that Jelka still was fast asleep, + But 'neath her pillow, peeping out, he saw-- + All stained with blood--the knife with golden blade. + He grasped his sleeping sister by her throat, + Accusing her of having killed his child. + And she--now startled in her morning sleep-- + Midst sighs and sobs disowned the dreadful deed; + Still, when she saw the knife all stained with gore, + She grew all grey with fear and looked aghast, + And guilty-like, before that gruesome sight. + "An I have done this horrid, heinous deed, + Then I deserve to die a dreadful death. + If thou canst think that I have killed thy child, + Then take and tie me to thy horses' tails, + So that they tread me down beneath their hoofs." + The maid was led within the lonely mead, + Her limbs were bound unto the stallions' tails; + They lashed the horses, that soon reared and ran + Apart, and thus they tore her limbs in twain. + But lo! where'er her blood fell down in drops, + Sweet sage grew forth, and marjoram and thyme, + And fragrant basil, sweetest of all herbs; + But on the spot where dropped her mangled corse, + A bruised and shapeless mass of bleeding flesh, + A stately church arose from out the earth, + Of dazzling marbles gemmed with precious stones-- + A wondrous chapel built by hallowed hands. + Marija, then, upon that day fell ill, + And nine long years she languished on her bed, + A death in life, still far more dead than quick; + And as she lay there 'twixt her skin and bones + The coarse and rank weeds grew, and 'midst the weeds + There nestled scorpions, snakes, and loathsome worms, + Which crept and sucked the tears from out her eyes. + In those last throes of death she wailed aloud, + And bade for mercy's sake that they might take + And lay her in that church which had sprung out + Where Jelka's body dropped a mangled corpse. + In fact, her only hope was to atone + For all those dreadful deeds which she had done. + But when they reached the threshold of the church, + A low and hollow voice came from the shrine, + And all who heard the sound were sore amazed. + "Avaunt from here! Till God forgive thy crimes, + This sacred ground is sure no place for thee." + Appalled to death, unable yet to die, + She begged them as a boon that they would tie + Her to the horses' tails, for dying thus she hoped + That God might then have mercy on her soul. + They bound her wasted limbs to stallions' tails; + Her bones were broke, her limbs were wrenched in twain, + And where the sods sucked up her blood impure, + The earth did yawn, and out of that wide gulf + Dark waters slowly rose and spread around; + Still, lifeless waters, like a lake of hell. + Within the mere the murdered foal was seen, + Just as we see a vision in a dream. + The falcon grey then flew with fluttering wing, + And panting, fell within that inky pool. + Then from the eddy rose a tiny cot. + Within that cot a rosy infant slept, + And smiled as if it saw its mother's breast. + But lo! its mother's claw-like hand arose + Out of the stagnant waters of the lake, + And plunged a dagger in the infant's breast. + + +The old woman, having finished her song, waited for a while till the +young man looked up. + +Presently, Uros, with a deep sigh, lifted his eyes towards her. + +"Always the same man, with that fiendish face of his," quoth he, +shaking his head. + +"But tell me what you have seen now, that I might help you--if I +can." + +"That man, who has been haunting me all these days." + +"Explain yourself better; did you only see his face, now?" + +Uros first explained to the _baornitza_ what he had witnessed in the +sea the night when Milenko was arrested for murder. + +"Have you often seen such things in the sea before?" + +"From my earliest childhood, and almost every time I looked; very +often Milenko and I saw the very same things." + +"But are you sure you never saw the face before?" + +"Oh! quite sure." + +"Now, tell me minutely what you have seen in the glass." + +"First the mirror grew hazy, just as if clouds were flitting over it; +then, little by little, it got to be more transparent, and of a +silvery, glassy grey. After that it grew greenish, and I could +distinguish down within its depths a beautiful landscape. It was a +country road seen by night; the moon was rising behind the hills at a +distance, and presently the trees, the rocks, the road, were clearer. +All at once two men were seen walking on the way. I could not see +their faces, for I was behind them; still, I was sure who the shorter +man was. They walked on and disappeared, but then I saw one of them +come running back. I was not mistaken; it was the man with the single +eye. His was, indeed, the face of a fiend. + +"He must have been running for some time, for he was panting, nay, +gasping for breath. He stopped, looked over his shoulder, then threw +the knife he was holding within a bush. It was a bush with silvery +leaves, and all covered with flowers. He then wiped his wet hands on +the leaves of the shrub, on the scanty grass, then rubbed them with +the sandy earth to remove all the traces of the blood. This done, he +again took to his heels and disappeared." + +"And that is all you saw?" + +"No! the mirror resumed again its real, dark colour, but, as I +continued looking within it, hoping to see something more, I saw it +turn again milky-white; then of a strong grass green, and, in the +midst of that glaring green paint, I had a glimpse of a Turkish flag; +then, as the red flag vanished, I beheld two words cut out and +painted in white in that garish green background. Those mysterious +words remained for some time; then they vanished, and I saw nothing +more." + +"Those words were in Turkish characters, were they not?" + +"No; some of them were like ours, but not all." + +"Then they must have been either Cyrillic or Greek; but, tell me, are +you quite sure you never saw those words before?" + +"Oh! quite, they were so strange." + +"You know, we happen sometimes to see things without noticing them, +even strange things. Then these objects, of which we seem to have no +knowledge, come back to us in our dreams, or when we gaze within a +mirror; so it may be that you have seen that face and those words +absently, with your eyes only, whilst your mind took no notice of +them." + +"I don't think so." + +"You may think otherwise in a few days. But let's see; you know where +the murder took place, don't you?" + +"Yes." + +"Well, the two men were, apparently, coming from Gravosa and going up +to Ragusa. Now, the spot where the shorter one stopped must have been +five, ten or fifteen minutes from the spot." + +"I daresay a quarter of an hour. Sailors are not accustomed to run; +besides, that man is not very young." + +"How do you know he is a sailor?" + +"By his dress; and a Greek sailor, besides. He wore a dark blue +flannel shirt, a white belt or sash, and those rough, yellow +home-spun trowsers which they alone wear." + +"Then probably the two words you saw were Greek. Now, the first thing +to be found is the knife; the second, and far more important fact, is +the meaning of those words. Are you sure not to forget them? Can you, +perhaps, write them down?" + +"I'll never forget them as long as I live; they are engraven in my +mind." + +"Then go and look for the knife. Come back to me to-morrow; perhaps I +may be of further help to you, that is, if you need more help." + +Uros thanked the old woman, and then asked her where she had learnt +all the wonderful things she knew. + +"From my own mother. Once a trade was in one family for ages; every +generation transmitted its secrets with its implements to the other. +It is true, people only knew one thing; but they knew it thoroughly. +Nowadays, young people are expected to have a smattering of +everything; but the sum of all their knowledge often amounts to +nothing." + +Uros, taking leave of the wise old woman, went down the road leading +from Porta Pilla to the sea. Soon he came to the spot where Milenko +had been found clasping the murdered man in his arms. Then he looked +at every tree, at every stone he passed on his way. After a while, he +got to the corner where he had seen--in the mirror--the two men +disappear. From there he crawled on, rather than walked, so that not +a pebble of the road escaped his notice. After about a quarter of an +hour, he came to a shrub of a dusty, greyish green--it was an _Agnus +castus_ in full bloom. He recognised it at once; it was the bush that +had looked so silvery by the light of the moon within the magic +mirror. His heart began to beat violently. As he looked round, he +fancied he would see the murderer start from behind some tree and +pounce upon him. He looked at the shrub carefully; some of its lower +branches and the tops of many twigs were broken. He pushed the leaves +aside, and searched within it. The knife was there. He did not see it +at first; for its haft was almost the same colour as the roots of the +tree, and the point of the knife was sticking in the earth. He took +it up and examined it. All the part of the blade that had not been +plunged in the earth was stained with blood. It was a common knife, +one of those that all sailors wear in their belts. He put it in the +breast pocket of his coat, and walked down with long strides. He was +but a few steps from the shore. + +Reason prompted him now to go to the police and give them the knife; +for it might lead to the discovery of the culprit. Still, this was +only a second thought--and Uros seldom yielded to practical +after-thoughts; and whenever he did so, he always regretted it. + +He had not a great idea of the police. They were only good to write +things down on paper, making what they called protocols, which +complicated everything. + +No; it was far better to act for himself, and only apply for help to +the police when he could have the murderer arrested. + +As he got down to the shore the sun was sinking below the horizon; +the silvery waters of the main were now being transmuted into +vaporous gold. As he was looking at the sea and sky, from a +meteorological, sailor-like point of view, and wondering whereabouts +the _Spera in Dio_ was just then, his eyes fell upon a little skiff, +which had arrived a few days after they had. It was a Turkish caique, +painted in bright prasine green. He had seen it for days when his own +ship was loading and unloading, but then it had had nothing +particular to attract his attention; he had seen hundreds of these +barques in the East. Now, however, he could not help being struck by +its vivid green colour. He looked up; the red flag with the half-moon +met his eyes. He had but time to see it, when it disappeared, for the +sun had set. + +How his heart began to beat! Surely the murderer was on board. He +strained his eyes to see the name of the ship, painted on either +side, but he could not distinguish it so far. Not a man was seen on +deck; the skiff seemed deserted. + +A boy was fishing in a boat near there; he called him and asked him +to lend him the boat for an instant. + +"What! do you want to fish, too?" asked the boy, pulling up. + +"No; I'd like to see the name of that caique." + +After two or three good strokes with the oars, Uros could see the +name plainly; it was _Παναγια_, exactly the name he had read in the +mirror. + +"Is that the ship you are looking for?" + +"The very same one." + +"Do you want to go on board?" + +"Yes; I'd like to see the captain." + +As soon as he was by the side of the caique he called out "_Patria!_" +for this is the name by which Greek sailors are usually addressed. + +Some one got up at the summons. It was not the single-eyed man that +Uros was expecting to see, but a handsome, dark-eyed, shock-headed +young fellow. + +"Is the captain on board?" + +The youth tossed up his head negatively and said some words, but the +only one that Uros understood was _Caffene_. + +As soon as Uros jumped on shore he went off to the coffee-house by +the pier, the only one at Gravosa. There were only a few seamen +smoking and sipping black coffee, but the person he wanted was not +amongst them. + +"Do you wish to be taken on board his craft?" asked a kind of +ship-broker, hearing that Uros was asking about the Greek captain. + +A few hours before he would simply have answered negatively. Now, as +he wanted to hear more of the ship and its crew, he asked: + +"Is it the Greek captain whose caique is lying just outside?" + +"Yes; the one painted in green." + +"Where is he?" + +"Just gone up to town. Are you going to Ragusa?" + +"Yes." + +"Well, as I'm going up too, I'll come with you." + +An hour afterwards Uros was duly introduced to the man he had been +looking for. + +The captain's first question was why Uros had remained behind, and as +the young man was anxious to lead the conversation about the murder, +he gave all the details about Milenko's arrest, and the reason why he +himself had not started with his ship. + +"What!" asked Uros, "you haven't heard of the murder?" + +"No," replied Captain Panajotti; "you see, I only speak Greek and a +little of the _lingua Franca_, so it is difficult to understand the +people here." + +"But how is it you happen to be wanting hands? You Greeks only have +sailors of your own country." + +"I've been very unfortunate this trip. One of my men has a whitlow in +the palm of his hand; another, a Slav, came with me this trip, but +only on condition of being allowed to go to his country while the +ship was loading and unloading----" + +"Well?" asked Uros, eagerly. + +"He went off and never came back." + +"Are you sure he was a Slav, and not a Turk?" + +"We, on board, spoke to him in Turkish, because he knew the language +like a Turk, but he was a Christian for all that; his country is +somewhere in the interior, not far from here. Now another of my men +has fallen ill----" + +"The man with the one eye?" + +"What! you know Vassili?" asked the captain, with a smile. "Yes, he's +ill." + +"What's the matter with him?" + +"I really don't know; he's lying down, skulking in a hole; the devil +take him." + +"Since when?" + +"Ten days, I think." + +"But is he really ill?" + +"He says he is; but why do you ask--do you know him?" + +"I'll be straightforward with you," said Uros, looking the captain +full in the eyes. "I think the murdered man is the Slav who left your +ship ten days ago." + +"You don't say so!" exclaimed the captain, astonished and grieved. + +"I believe so." + +"The one for whose murder your friend was arrested?" + +"Exactly." + +"Strange--very strange," said the captain, who had taken off his +shoe and was rubbing his stockinged foot, "and the murderer?" + +"The man who has been ill ever since." + +"Vassili?" + +"You've said it." + +"But have you any proofs?" + +"I have." + +"Then why did you not get him arrested?" + +"I'll do so to-morrow." + +"And if you can prove your friend's innocence----" + +"We'll sail with you to Zara, my friend and I, if you'll have us, and +find you two other able-bodied seamen to take our place." + +"But, remember, I'll not help you in any way to have a man on board +my ship arrested." + +"No, I don't ask you to do so." + +"I believe he's a fiend; still, he's a fellow-countryman of mine." + +The two men thereupon shook hands and separated. + +Uros went to the police, and, after a great ado, he managed to find +one of the directors. + +"What do you want?" said the officer, cross at being disturbed out of +office hours. + +"I've found the murderer at last," replied Uros. + +"And what murderer, pray? Do you think there's only one murderer in +the world?" + +Uros explained himself. + +"And who is he?" + +"A certain Vassili, a Greek, on board a caique now lying at Gravosa." + +"And how have you found out that he is the murderer, when we know +nothing about it?" + +"By intuition." + +"Well, but you don't expect us to go about arresting people on +intuition, do you?" asked the officer, huffishly. + +Uros proceeded to relate all he knew; then he produced the knife +which he had found. + +"Well, there is some ground to your intuition; and if the murdered +man happens to be the Slav sailor who disappeared from on board the +ship you speak of, well, then, there is some probability that this +one-eyed man is the murderer." + +"Anyhow, could you give orders for the ship to be watched to-night?" + +"Yes, I can do that." + +"At once?" + +"You are rather exacting, young man." + +"Think of my friend, who has been in prison ten days----" + +"I'll give orders at once. There, are you satisfied now?" + +"Thank you." + +Uros, frightened lest the murderer might escape, hastened down to +Gravosa to keep watch on the caique. On his way thither he stopped at +a baker's shop and bought some bread, as he had been fasting for many +hours. Having got down to the shore, he eat his bread, had a glass of +water and a cup of black coffee at the coffee-house, lit a cigarette, +and then went to stretch himself down on a boat drawn up on the sand, +from where he could see anyone who came out of the Greek ship. + +Although there was no moon, still the air was so clear, and the stars +shone so brightly, that the sky was of a deep transparent blue, and +the night was anything but black. A number of little noises were +heard, especially the many insects that awake and begin to chirp when +all the birds are hushed. One of them near him was breathing in a +see-saw, drilling tone, whilst another kept syncopating this song +with a sharp and shrill _tsit, tsit_. In some farmyard, far off, the +growl of an old dog was occasionally heard in the distance, like a +bass-viol; but the pleasantest of all these noises was the plap-plap +of the wavelets lapping the soft sand. + +Presently, a custom-house guard came and sat down near Uros, and they +began talking together; and then time passed a little quicker. + +It must have been about half-past one when Uros saw a man quietly +lower himself down from the caique into the sea, and make for the +shore. He must have swum with one hand, for his other was holding a +bundle of clothes on his head. Uros pointed out the swimming figure +to the guard, who at once sprang up and ran to the edge of the shore. +The man, startled, veered and swam farther off. The watchman +whistled, and another guard appeared at fifty paces from there. The +man jerked himself round, evidently intending to go back to his ship; +but Uros, who was on the alert, had already pushed into the sea the +boat on which he had been stretched, and began paddling with a board +which was lying within it. + +The man, evidently thinking that Uros was a custom-house officer, +seeing now that he could not get back on board, put on a bold face +and swam once more towards the shore, whither Uros followed him. Three +custom-house guards had come up together, and were waiting for him to +step out of the water. Uros landed almost at once, and pushing the +boat on the sand, turned round and found himself face to face with +the dripping, naked figure. It was the fiendish, pitted, single-eyed +man he had seen in his visions. He was by no means startled at seeing +him; for he would have been astonished, indeed, if it had been +someone else. + +Uros, grasping him by one of his arms and holding him fast for fear +he might escape, exclaimed: "That's the man!--that's the murderer!" + +"Leave him," said the watchman; "if he tries to escape he's dead." + +"Oh! but I don't want him dead; do what you like with him, but don't +kill him; tie him up, cut off his legs and his arms, but spare his +life until he has confessed." + +The guards gave another shrill whistle, and presently the policemen +came running up. + +The naked man, who did not know a word of Slav, and only very little +Italian, was taking his oath in Greek that he was no smuggler. He at +once opened his bundle, wrapped up in an oil-cloth jacket, and showed +the guards that there was nothing in it but a few clothes. The Greek +sailor was ordered to dress himself; then the policemen handcuffed +him and led him off to the station, where Uros followed him. + +On the morrow the Greek captain was sent for, and he stated that, +having accused Vassili--who, for ten days, had been shamming +illness--of having murdered the Slav, this sailor had threatened him +to go to the Greek consulate on the morrow. The guilty man, however, +had, on second thoughts, deemed it more advisable to seek his safety +in flight, little thinking to what danger he was exposing himself. +The knife was produced and identified as having belonged to the +prisoner; then, being confronted with Milenko, who at once recognised +him as the murderer, he--overwhelmed by so many damning proofs +--confessed his guilt and pleaded for mercy, saying that he had only +killed his antagonist in self-defence. + +Milenko's innocence being thus proclaimed, he was at once set free, +whilst Uros was heartily congratulated on his intuition, and the +officer who had snubbed him the evening before, strongly advised him +to leave the sea and become a detective, for if he had the same skill +in finding the traces of criminals as he had displayed in this case, +he would soon became a most valuable officer, whilst Milenko was told +that he ought to think himself fortunate in having such a friend. + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +MARGARET OF LOPUD + + +Though the _pobratim_ would have sailed with any ship rather than +with the ill-fated green caique, still Uros had pledged his word to +the Greek captain to go with him as far as Zara or Trieste, and, +moreover, there was no other vessel sailing just then for either of +these ports, and they were both anxious to catch up with the _Spera +in Dio_ without further delay. The Greek captain, likewise--out of a +kind of superstitious dread--would have preferred any other sailors +to these two young men; still, as Dalmatians only sail with their own +fellow-countrymen and never on Greek crafts, it was no easy matter to +find two able-bodied men to go only for a short trip, for those were +times when sailors were not as plentiful, nor ships so scarce, as +they are now. + +On the day after the one on which Milenko was set free, the +_pobratim_ set sail with the little caique, and they, as well as the +captain, were thoroughly glad to shake the dust off their shoes on +leaving Gravosa; Milenko especially hoped never to set his foot in +Ragusa again. + +The fresh breeze swelled out the broad white sails of the graceful +little ship, which flew as fleetly as a halcyon, steered, as it was, +with utmost care, in and out the narrow channels and through that +archipelago of volcanic rocks which surround the Elaphite Islands, so +dangerous to seamen. It soon left far behind the graceful mimosas, +the dark cypress-trees and the feathery palms of the Ragusean coast. + +After all the anxiety of the last days it was pleasant to be again on +those blue waters, so limpid that the red fretted weeds could be seen +growing on the grey rocks several fathoms below. It was a delight to +breathe the balmy air, wafted across that little scented garden of La +Croma. The world looked once more so beautiful, and life was again a +pleasure. The sufferings the _pobratim_ had undergone only served to +render them fonder of each other, so that if they had been twins--not +only brothers--they could not have loved each other more than they +did. + +The sun went down, and soon afterwards the golden bow of the new moon +was seen floating in the hyacinthine sky. At the sight of that +slender aureate crescent--which always awakens in the mind of man a +vision of a chaste and graceful maiden--all the crew crossed +themselves and were happy to think that the past was dead and gone, +for the new moon brings new fortune to mortals. + +A frugal supper of salted cheese, fruit and olives gathered all the +men together, and then those who were not keeping watch were about to +retire, when a small fishing-boat with a lighted torch at its prow +was seen not very far off. As it came nearer to them the light went +out, and the dark boat, with two gaunt figures at the oars, was seen +for an instant wrapped in a funereal darkness, and then all vanished. +The _pobratim_ crossed themselves, shuddering, and Milenko whispered +something to Uros in Slav, who nodded without speaking. + +"What is it?" asked the captain, astonished. + +"It is the phantom fishing-boat," replied Uros, almost below his +breath, apparently unwilling to utter these words, and Milenko added: + +"It is seen on the first days of the new moon, as soon as darkness +comes over the waters." + +For a few moments everybody was silent. All looked towards the spot +where the boat had disappeared, and then the captain asked Milenko +who those two men were, and why they were condemned to ply their +oars, and thereupon Milenko began to relate the story of + + +MARGARET OF LOPUD. + +Some centuries ago, during the great days of the Republic, there +lived a young patrician whose name was Theodor. He belonged to one of +the wealthiest and oldest families of Ragusa, his father having been +rector of the Commonwealth. Theodor was of a most serious +disposition, possessing uncommon talents, and, therefore, taking no +delight in the frivolities of his age. His learning was such that he +was expected to become one of the glories of his native town. + +Theodor, to flee from the bustle and mirth of the capital and to give +himself entirely up to his studies, had taken up his abode in the +Benedictine convent on the little island of St. Andrea. + +Once he went to visit the island of Lopud--the middle one of the +Elaphite group--and there passed the day; but in the evening, wishing +to return to the brotherhood, he could not find his boat on the +shore. Wandering on the beach, he happened to meet a young girl +carrying home some baskets of fish. Theodor, stopping her, asked her, +shyly, if she knew of anyone who would take him in his boat across to +the island of St. Andrea. No, the young girl knew nobody, for the +fishermen who had come back home were all very tired with their hard +day's work; they were now smoking their pipes. Seeing Theodor's +disappointed look, the young girl proffered her services, which the +bashful patrician reluctantly accepted. + +The sail was unfurled and managed with a strong and skilful hand; the +boat went scudding over the waves like an albatross; the breeze was +steady, and the sea quiet. The girl steered through the reefs like a +pilot. + +Those two human beings in the fishing-smack formed a strong contrast +to one another. He, the aristocratic scion of a highly cultured race, +pale with long study and nightly vigils, looked like a tenderly +reared hot-house plant. She, belonging to a sturdy race of fishermen, +tanned by the rays of the scorching sun and the exhilarating surf, +was the very picture of a wild flower in full bloom. + +Theodor, having got over the diffidence with which women usually +inspired him, began to talk to the young girl; he questioned her +about her house, her family, her way of living. She told him simply, +artlessly, that she was an orphan; the hungry waves--that yearly +devour so many fishermen's lives--had swallowed up her father; not +long after this misfortune her mother died. Since that time she had +lived with her three brothers, who, she said, took great care of her. +She kept house for them, she cooked, she baked bread, she also helped +them to repair their nets, which were always tearing. Sometimes she +cleaned the boat, and she always carried the fish to market. Besides, +she tilled the little field, and in the evening she spun the thread +to make her brothers' shirts. But they were very kind to her, no +brothers could be more so. + +He could not help comparing this poor girl--the drudge of the +family--with the grand ladies of his own caste, whose task in life +was to dress up, to be rapidly witty in a saloon, to slander all +their acquaintances, simply to kill the time, for whom life had no +other aim than pleasure, and against whose love for sumptuary display +the Republic had to devise laws and enforce old edicts. + +For the young philosopher this unsophisticated girl soon became an +object, first, of speculative, then of tender interest; whilst +Margaret--this was the fishermaiden's name--felt for Theodor, so +delicate and lovable, that motherly sympathy which a real womanly +nature feels for every human being sickly and suffering. + +They met again--haunted as he was by the flashing eyes of the young +girl, it was impossible for him not to try and see her a second time, +and from her own fair lips he heard that the passion which had been +kindled in his heart had also roused her love. Then, instead of +endeavouring to suppress their feelings, they yielded to the charms +of this saintly affection, to the rapture of loving and being loved. +In a few days his feelings had made so much progress that he promised +to marry her, forgetting, however, that the strict laws of the +aristocratic Republic forbade all marriages between patricians and +plebeians. His noble character and his bold spirit prompted him to +brave that proud society in which he lived, for those refined ladies +and gentlemen, who would have shrugged their shoulders had he seduced +the young girl and made her his mistress, would have been terribly +scandalised had he taken her for his lawful wife. + +His studies went on in a desultory way, his books were almost +forsaken; love engrossed all his mind. + +In the midst of his thoughtless happiness, the young lover was +suddenly summoned back home, for whilst Theodor was supposed to be +poring over his old volumes, the father, without consulting him, not +anticipating any opposition, promised his son in marriage to the +daughter of one of his friends, a young lady of great wealth and +beauty. This union had, it is true, been concerted when the children +were mere babes, and it had from that time been a bond between the +two families. The whole town, nay, the Commonwealth itself, rejoiced +at this auspicious event. The young lady, being now of a marriageable +age, and having duly concentrated all her affections upon the man she +had always been taught to regard as her future husband, looked +forward with joy to the day that would remove her from the thraldom +in which young girls were kept. Henceforth she would take her due +share in all festivities, and not only be cooped up in a balcony or a +gallery to witness those enjoyments of which she could not take part. + +Theodor was, therefore, summoned back home to assist at a great +festivity given in honour of his betrothal. This order came upon him +as a thunderbolt; still, as soon as he recovered from the shock, he +hastened back to break off the engagement contracted for him. He +tried to remonstrate, first with his father, and then with his +mother; but his eloquence was put to scorn. He pleaded in vain that +he had no inclination for matrimony, that, moreover, he only felt for +this young lady a mere brotherly affection, that could never ripen +into love; still, both his parents were deaf to all his arguments. +Now that the wedding day was settled, that the father had pledged his +word to his friend, it was too late to retreat. A refusal would be +insulting; it would provoke a rupture between the two families--a +feud in the town. No option was left but to obey. + +Theodor thereupon retired to his own room, where he remained in +strict confinement, refusing to see anyone. The evening of that +eventful day the guests were assembled, the bride and her family had +arrived; the bridegroom, nevertheless, was missing. This was, +indeed, a strange breach of good manners, and numerous comments were +whispered from ear to ear. The father sent, at last, a peremptory +order to his undutiful son to come down at once. + +The young man at last made his appearance dressed in a suit of deep +mourning, whilst his hair--which a little while before had fallen in +long ringlets over his shoulders--was clipped short. In this strange +dress he came to inform his father--before the whole assembly--that +he had decided to forego the pleasures, the pomp and vanity of this +world, and to take up his abode in a convent, where he intended to +pass his days in study and meditation. + +The scene of confusion which followed this unexpected declaration can +easily be imagined. The guests thought it advisable to retire; still, +the first person to leave the house was Theodor himself, bearing with +him his father's curse. The discarded bride was borne away by her +parents, and her delicate health never recovered from that unexpected +disappointment. + +That very night the young man went back to the Benedictine convent, +and, although the prior received him kindly, he still advised him to +yield to his father's wishes; but Theodor was firm in his resolution +of passing his life in holy seclusion. + +After a few days, the fire which love had kindled within his veins +was so strong that he could not resist the temptation of going to see +Margaret to inform her of all that had happened. Driven as he was +from house and home, unable to go against the unjust laws of his +country, he had made up his mind to spend his life in holy celibacy, +in the convent where he had taken shelter. The sight of the young +girl, however, made him forget all his wise resolutions; he only swore +to her that he would brave the laws of his country, the wrath of his +parents, and that he would marry her in spite of his family and of +the whole world. + +He thus continued to see the young girl, stealthily at first, then +oftener and without so many precautions, till at last Margaret's +brothers were informed of his visits. They--jealous of the honour of +their family, as all Slavs are--threatened their sister to kill her +lover if ever they found him with her. Then--almost at the same +time--the prior of the Benedictines, happening to hear of Theodor's +love for the fair fisher-girl of Lopud, expressed his intention of +expelling him, should he not discontinue his visits to the +neighbouring island. + +Every new difficulty only seemed to give greater courage to the +lovers. They would have fled from their native country had it not +been for the fear of being soon overtaken, brought back and punished; +they, therefore, decided to wait for some time, until the wrath of +their persecutors had abated, and the storm that always threatened +them had blown over. + +As Theodor could not go to see the young girl, Margaret now came to +visit her lover. Not to excite any suspicion, they only met in the +middle of the night; and, as they always changed their +trysting-place, a lighted torch was the signal where the young girl +was to steer her boat. Sometimes--as not a skiff was to be got--the +young girl swam across the channel, for nothing could daunt her +heroic heart. + +These ill-fated lovers were happy in spite of their adverse fortune; +the love they bore one another made amends for all their woes. They +only lived in expectation of that hour they were to pass together +every night. Then, clasped in each other's arms, the world and its +inhabitants did not exist for them. Those were moments of such +ineffable rapture, that it seemed impossible for them ever to drain +the whole chalice of happiness. In those moments Time and Eternity +were confounded, and nothing was worth living for except the bliss of +loving and being loved. The dangers which surrounded them, their +loneliness upon those rocky shores, the stillness of the night, and +the swiftness of time, only rendered the pleasure they felt more +intense, for joy dearly bought is always more deeply felt. + +Their happiness, however, was not to last long. Margaret's brothers, +having watched her, soon found out that when the young nobleman had +ceased coming to Lopud, it was she who visited her lover by night, +and, like honourable men, they resolved to be avenged upon her. They +bided their time, and upon a dark and stormy night the fishermen, +knowing that their sister would not be intimidated by the heavy sea, +went off with the boat and left her to the mercy of the waves. +Theodor, not to entice her to expose herself rashly to the fury of +the sea, had not lighted his torch; still, unable to remain shut up +within his cell, he roamed about the desolate shore, listening to the +roaring billows. All at once he saw a light--not far from the rocks. +No fisherman could be out in the storm at that hour. His heart sank +within him for fear Margaret should see the light and take it for his +signal. In a fever of anxiety he walked about the shore and watched +the fluttering light--now almost extinguished, and then burning +brightly. + +The young girl seeing the light, and unable to resist the promptings +of her heart, made the sign of the Cross, recommended herself to the +mercy of the Almighty, and bravely plunged into the waters. She +struggled against the fury of the wind, and buffeted against the +waves, swimming towards that beacon-light of love. That night, +however, all her efforts seemed useless; she never could reach the +shore; that _ignis-fatuus_ light always receded from her. Still, she +took courage, hoping soon to reach that blessed goal; in fact, she +was now getting quite near it. + +A flash of lightning, which illumined the dark expanse of the waters, +showed her that the torch, towards which she had been swimming, was +tied to the prow of her brothers' boat. She also perceived that the +Island of St. Andrea, towards which she thought she had been +swimming, was far behind her. A moment afterwards the torch was +thrown into the sea, and the boat rowed off. She at once turned +towards the island, and there, in the midst of the darkness, she +struggled with the huge breakers that dashed themselves in foam +against the reefs; but soon, overpowered with weariness, she gave up +every hope of rejoining her lover, and sank down in the briny deep. + +The sea that separated the lovers was, however, less cruel than man, +for upon the morrow the waves themselves laid the lifeless body of +the young girl upon the soft sand of the beach. + +The young patrician, who had passed a night of most terrible anxiety, +wandering on the strand, found the corpse of the girl he so dearly +loved. He caused it to be committed to the earth, after which he +re-entered the walls of the convent, took the Benedictine dress, and +spent the rest of his life praying for her soul and pining in grief. + + +Milenko did not exactly relate this story in these words, for to be +intelligible he had to make use of a mixture of Italian, Slav and +even Greek, and even then Captain Panajotti was often puzzled to +understand what he meant; therefore, he had to express himself in a +kind of dumb show, or in those onomatopoetic sounds rather difficult +to be transcribed. + +As soon as he had finished, the captain said: + +"We, too, have a story like that, and, on the whole, ours is a much +prettier one; for it was the man who swam across the Straits of the +Dardanelles to meet the girl he loved, and, on a stormy night, he was +drowned." + +"Only ours is a true story; you yourself have seen, just now, the +hard-hearted brothers rowing in the dark." + +"Ours is also true." + +"And when did it happen?" + +"More than a thousand years ago, when we Greeks were the masters of +all the world." + +The _Spera in Dio_, having met with contrary winds and a storm in the +rough sea of the Quarnero, had been obliged to cruise about and shift +her sails every now and then, thus losing a great deal of time, and +she only reached Trieste after a week's delay. The caique instead had +a steady, strong wind, and less than twenty-four hours after they +left Ragusa they cast their anchor in front of the white walls of +Zara. + +To the _pobratim_'s regret the boat was only to remain there two or +three days at most, just time enough to take some bales of hides, and +then set sail for Trieste; so, although they were so near Nona, it +was impossible for them to go and pay a visit to Ivanka. The two +young sailors had, however, no need of going to Nona to see their +friends, for no sooner had the ship dropped her anchor than Giulianic +himself came on board, for he was the Sciot merchant about whom +Captain Panajotti had often spoken to them, and who was to give them +the extra cargo. + +"What! you here?" said Giulianic, opening his eyes with astonishment. +"Well, this is an unexpected pleasure; but I thought you were in +Trieste." Then, turning to Milenko, he added: "I had a letter from +your father only a few days ago informing me that your ship would be +there now. You have not been shipwrecked, I hope?" + +"No, no," replied Uros, at once; "we were detained at Ragusa; but we +are on our way to Trieste, aren't we, captain?" + +"If God grants us a fair wind, we are." + +Milenko thereupon opened his mouth to speak, but his friend +forestalled him. + +"So you had a letter from his father? Well, what news from home? Are +they all in good health? And how are the crops getting on?" Thereupon +he stepped on his friend's foot to make him keep quiet. + +"Yes, all are well. Amongst other things, he says that your father +has gone to Montenegro." + +"My father?" asked Uros, with a sly wink at Milenko. + +"Yes; on account of a murder that had been committed at Budua." Then, +turning to the captain: "By-the-bye, you knew Radonic, didn't you?" + +"Yes, I did." + +"Well, it appears he's gone and murdered the only friend he had." + +"That's not astonishing. The only thing that surprises me is that he +ever had a friend to murder. He was one of the most unsociable men I +ever met." + +Afterwards they spoke of the accident that had kept the two young men +at Ragusa, at which Giulianic seemed greatly concerned. + +"Anyhow," said he, "it's lucky that my wife and Ivanka have come with +me from Nona. They'll be so glad to see you again; for you must know, +Captain Panajotti, that my bones, and those of my wife and daughter, +would now be lying at the bottom of the sea, had it not been for the +courage of these two young men." + +"Oh! you must thank him," said Uros, pointing to Milenko. "I only +helped so as not to leave him to risk his life alone." + +"They never told me anything about it; but, of course, they did not +know that I was acquainted with you." Then, laughing, the captain +added: "Fancy, I have been warning them not to lose their hearts on +seeing your beautiful daughter." + +"And didn't I tell you that my friend had already left his heart at +Nona?" + +Saying this, Uros pinched his friend's arm. Milenko blushed, and was +about to say something, but Giulianic began to speak about business; +then added: + +"And now I must leave you; but suppose you all three come and meet us +at the Cappello in about an hour's time, and have some dinner with +us? I'll not say a word either to my wife or Ivanka, and you may +fancy how surprised they'll be to see you." + +Captain Panajotti seemed undecided. + +"No, I'll not have any excuse; you captains are little tyrants the +moment the anchor is weighed, but the moment it's dropped you are all +smiles and affability. Come, I'll have a dish of _scordalia_ to whet +your appetite; now, you can't resist that; so ta-ta for the present." + +The moment Giulianic disappeared Milenko looked at his friend, whose +eyes were twinkling with merriment. + +"It's done," said Uros, smiling. + +"But what made you take the poor fellow in as you did?" + +"_I_ take him in? Well, I like that." + +"Well, but----" + +"If he deceived himself, am I to be held responsible for his +mistakes?" + +"Still----" + +"Besides, if there was any deception, I must say you did your best to +let it go on." + +"Of course, I did; but who made me do it?" + +"I did." + +"And now is it to continue?" + +"Of course." + +"But why?" + +"Milenko, you're a good fellow, but in some things you are a great +ninny. You ask me why? Well, because, for two days, you can make love +to the daughter under the father's very nose; in the meantime I'll +devote myself to the father and mother, and make myself pleasant to +them." + +"Yes, but what'll be the upshot of all this?" + +"'Sufficient to the day is the evil thereof,' the proverb says; why +will you make yourself wretched, thinking of the future, when you can +be so happy? If I only had the opportunity of spending two long days +with----" + +Uros did not finish his phrase; his merry face grew dark, and he +sighed deeply; then he added: "There is usually some way out of all +difficulties; see how you got out of prison." + +"Still, look in what a predicament you've placed me." + +"Well, if you feel qualmish, we can tell the old man that he's a +goose, for he really doesn't know who his son-in-law is; then I'll +make love to fair Ivanka, and you'll look on. Now are you satisfied?" + +"What are you wrangling about?" said Captain Panajotti, appearing out +of the hatchway in his best clothes, his baggy trowsers more +voluminous than those that Mrs. Bloomer tried to set in fashion a few +years afterwards. + +"Oh! nothing," said Uros, laughing; "only you must know that every +first quarter of the moon I suffer from lunacy. I'm not at all +dangerous, quite the contrary; especially if I'm not contradicted. So +you might try and bear with me for a day or two; by the time we sail +again I'll be all right; it's only a flow of exuberant animal spirits, +that must vent themselves. But, how fine you are, captain; I'm afraid +you are trying to out-do my friend, and if it wasn't that you are +married, I'd have thought that all your warnings for us not to fall +in love with the Sciot's daughter----" + +"I see that the lunacy is beginning, so I'll not contradict; but +hadn't you better go and dress?" + +"All right," quoth Uros, and in a twinkling the two young men +disappeared down the hatchway. + +Half-an-hour afterwards they were at the Albergo Cappello, the only +inn of the town, where they found Giulianic awaiting them. The two +women were very much astonished to see them. Ivanitza's eyes flashed +with unrestrained delight on perceiving her lover, but then she +looked down demurely--as every well-bred damsel should--and blushed +like a pomegranate flower. Only, when she heard her father address +him by his friend's name, she looked up astonished; but seeing Uros +slily wink at her, she again cast down her eyes, wondering what it +all meant. + +After a while the mother whispered to her husband that she had always +mistaken one of the young men for the other. + +"Did you?" said he, laughing. "Well, I am astonished, for you women +are so much keener in knowing people than we men are; for, to tell +you the truth, I've often been puzzled myself; they are both the same +age, they are like brothers, they are dressed alike, so it's easy to +mistake them." + +"Anyhow," added she, "I'm glad to have been mistaken, because, +although I like both of them, still I prefer our future son-in-law to +young Bellacic; he's more earnest and sedate than his friend." + +"Yes, I think you are right; the other one is such a chatterbox." + +"And, then, he displayed so much courage at the time of our +shipwreck; indeed, had it not been for his bravery, we should all +have been drowned." + +"Yes, I remember; he was the first one to come to our rescue. Still, +we must be just towards the other one, for he is a brave and a plucky +fellow to boot." + +"And so lively!" + +"That's it; rather too much so; anyhow, I'm glad that Ivanka has +fallen in love with the right man; because it would have been exactly +like the perverseness of the gentle sex for her to have liked the +other one better." + +"Oh, my daughter has been too well brought up to make any objection! +Just fancy a girl choosing for herself; it would be preposterous!" + +"Yes, of course it would; still, she might have moped and threatened +to have gone into a decline. Oh, I know the ways of your model +girls!" + +In the meanwhile, Milenko explained to the young girl how the mistake +had originated, and how her father had, from the first, believed him +to be Uros. + +Dinner was soon served in a private room of the hotel; and Uros, who, +to keep up the buoyancy of his spirits, and act the part he had +undertaken to play brilliantly, had swallowed several glasses of +_slivovitz_, and had induced Captain Panajotti to follow his example, +was now indulging freely with the strong Dalmatian wine. Still, he +only took enough to be talkative and merry; but, as he exaggerated +the effects of the wine, everybody at table believed him to be quite +tipsy. + +No sooner had the dish of macaroni been taken away than he began to +insist upon Captain Panajotti telling them a story. + +"Oh, to-morrow you'll be master on board again; but now, you know, +you must do what I like, just as if you were my wife!" + +"What! Your wife----" + +But Uros did not let Mrs. Giulianic finish her question, for he +insisted upon doing all the talking himself. + +"My wife," said he, sententiously, "my wife'll have to dance to the +tune I play; for I intend to wear the breeches and the skirts, too, +in my house; so I hope you've brought up your daughter to jump +through paper hoops, like a well-trained horse--no, I mean a girl!" + +"My daughter----" + +"Oh, I daresay that your daughter's like you, turning up her nose; +but I say, D----n it! I'll not have a wife whose nose turns up." + +Giulianic looked put out; his wife's face lengthened by several +inches, whilst Ivanka did her best to look scared. + +"Come, captain," continued Uros, "spout us one of your stories. Now +listen, for he'll make you split with laughter. Come, give us one of +your spicy ones; tell us your tale about the lack of wit, but without +omitting the----" + +"I'm afraid that the ladies----" + +"Oh, rot the ladies! Now, all this comes from this new-fangled notion +of having women at table; if they are to be squeamish and spoil all +the fun, let them stop up their ears. Come, I told you I'd not brook +contradiction to-day." + +"Well, by-and-by; let me have my dinner now." + +"What's the matter with him?" asked Mrs. Giulianic of the captain; +"is he drunk?" + +"Oh, worse! he's moon-struck; he's like that for a few days at every +new moon." + +Mrs. Giulianic made the sign of the Cross, and whispered something to +her husband. + +"Then, if you'll not tell us a story, our guest must sing us a song. +Come, father-in-law, sing us a song, a merry, rollicking one, for +when I'm on shore I like to laugh." + +"No, not here; we are not in our own house, you know." + +"Do you pay for the dinner, or don't you?" + +"I do, but there are gentlemen dining in the next room." + +"If they don't like your song, don't let them listen." + +Thereupon the waiter came in. + +"I say, you, fellow, isn't it true that we can sing in this stinking +hole of an old tub?" + +"Oh! if you like; only this isn't a tavern, and there are two judges +dining in the next room." + +"And you think I'm not going to sing for two paltry judges! I'll +howl, then." + +"No; let's have some riddles," said Giulianic, soothingly; "I'm very +fond of riddles, aren't you? Now, tell me, captain, who was it that +killed the fourth part of mankind?" + +"Why, that's as old as your wife," quoth Uros, at once; "why, Cain, +of course. But as you like riddles, I'll tell you one that suits you, +though, as the proverb says, a bald pate needs no comb." + +Giulianic winced, for his bald head was his sore point, but then he +added, with a forced smile: + +"Come, let's have your riddle." + +"Well, you ought to know what makes a man bald, if anyone does." + +"Sorrow," answered the bald man. + +"Rot, I say!" + +"What is it, then?" + +"The loss of hair, of course," and he poked Giulianic in the ribs. +"That was good, wasn't it, father-in-law?" + +"Well, I don't see much of a joke in it," answered the host, +snappishly. + +"No; I didn't expect you would; that's the joke, you see." Then, +turning to Ivanka, with a slight wink: "Now, here's one for you." + +"Let's hear it." + +"Why are there in this world more women than men?" + +"Because they are more necessary." + +"That's your conceit; but you're wrong." + +"What is it, then?" asked the young girl. + +"Because the evil in this world is always greater than the good." + +"So," said she, with a pretty smile, "then, women ought to be called +men's worse halves." + +"Of course, they ought--though there are exceptions to all rules." +Then, after drinking very slowly half a glass of wine: "Now, one for +you, _babica_. This is the very best of the lot; I didn't invent it +myself, though I, too, can say a smart thing now and then, _babica_. +Tell me, when is a wife seen at her best?" + +Ivanka's mother, who prided herself upon her youthful looks, winced +visibly on hearing herself twice called a granny; still, she added, +simpering: + +"I suppose, when she's a bride." + +"Oh! you suppose that, do you? Well, your supposition is all wrong." + +"Well, when is it?" + +"Ask your husband; surely, he's not bald for nothing." + +"I'm sure, I don't know; I think----" + +"You think it's when she turns up her nose, but that's not it, for +it's when she turns up her toes and is carried out of the house." + +Captain Panajotti laughed, and so did Ivanka; but her mother, seeing +her laugh, could hardly control her vexation, so she said something +which she intended to be very sarcastic. + +"Oh! you are vexed, _babica_, because I explained you the riddle." + +"Vexed! there's nothing to be vexed about. I'm only sorry that, at +your age, you have such a bad opinion of women." + +"_I_, a bad opinion, _takomi Boga!_ I haven't made the riddle; I've +only heard it from my father, and he says that riddles are the wisdom +of a nation. So, to show you that I have the best regard for you, +here's a bumper"--and thereupon he filled his glass to the brim and +stood up--"to your precious health, mother-in-law." + +Then, pretending to stumble, he poured the glass of wine over her +head and face. + +Giulianic uttered an oath, and struck the table with his fist; Ivanka +and Milenko thought he had gone too far. Still, the poor woman looked +such a pitiful object, with her turban all soaked and her face all +dripping with wine, that they all burst out laughing. + +Mrs. Giulianic, unable to control her vexation, and angry at finding +herself the laughing-stock of the whole company, forgot herself so +far as to call Uros a fool and a drunkard. He, however, went on, +good-humouredly: + +"I'm so sorry; but, you see, it was quite unintentional, _Bogami_, +quite unintentional. But never mind, don't be angry with me; I'll buy +you another dress." + +"Do you think my wife is vexed on account of her dress?" said +Giulianic, proudly. "Thank Heaven! she doesn't need your dresses +yet." + +"Oh, yes!" said Uros, mopping up the wine with his napkin, "I know +that you can afford to buy your wife dresses; but as I spoilt this +one, it is but right that I should pay for it. I can't offer to buy +you a yard of stuff, can I? And, besides, a dress is always welcome, +isn't it, mother-in-law?" + +"Well, never mind about the dress," quoth Giulianic. + +"Oh! if you don't mind it, your wife does; but there, don't be angry, +don't be wriggling with your nose. When I marry your daughter, my +pretty Ivanka----" + +"You marry my daughter!" gasped the father. + +"You, indeed!" quoth the mother. + +"Yes, _babica_; then I'll buy you the dearest dress I can get for +money in Trieste. What is it to be, velvet or satin? plain or with +bunches of flowers? What colour would you like? as red as your face +is now?" + +"When you marry Ivanka, you can buy me a bright green satin." + +"Well, here's my hand upon it; only you'll look like a big parrot in +that dress. Isn't it true, father-in-law?" + +"A joke is a joke," answered Giulianic; "but I wish you wouldn't be +'father-in-lawing' me, for----" + +"Well, I hope you are not going to break off the engagement because I +happened to christen mother-in-law with a glass of good wine, are +you?" + +"Your engagement?" + +"Of course." + +"I told you I don't mind a joke, still this is carrying----" + +"Don't mind him, poor fellow," said Captain Panajotti. "The poor +fellow is daft." + +"If anybody is engaged to my daughter," continued Giulianic, "it's +your friend there, Uros Bellacic!" + +"Oh! I like that," said Uros, laughing. "I'm afraid the wine's all +gone up to your bald pate, old man." Then turning to Captain +Panajotti, he added: "He doesn't know his own son-in-law any more," +and he laughed idiotically. + +Giulianic and his wife looked aghast. + +Thereupon, thumping the table, Uros exclaimed: + +"I tell you I'm going to marry your daughter, though, if the truth +must be known, I don't care a fig for her, pretty as she is. I've +got----" + +"And I swear by God that you'll never marry her!" cried Giulianic, +exasperated. + +"That's rich," quoth Uros. "On what do you swear, old bald-pate?" + +"I swear on my faith." + +"And on your soul, eh?" + +"On my soul, too." + +"With your hand on the Cross?" asked Uros, handing him a little +Cross. + +"I swear," answered Giulianic, beyond himself with rage. + +"Well, well, that'll do; don't get angry, take it coolly as I do. You +see, I'm not put out. As long as you settle the matter with my +father, Milos Bellacic, I'm quite satisfied." + +"Milos Bellacic your father?" + +"Of course." + +"Then you mean to say that you are----?" + +"Uros Bellacic. Although the wine may have gone a little to my head, +still, I suppose I know who I am." + +"Is it true?" said Giulianic, turning towards Milenko. + +"Yes!" replied the young man, nervously, "Didn't you know it?" + +"No." + +"Didn't I tell you?" whispered his wife. + +"Oh! you always tell me when it's too late," he retorted, huffishly. +"And now, what's to be done? Will you release me from my oath?" + +Ivanka looked up, alarmed. + +"Decidedly not; I'll never marry a girl who doesn't want me, whose +father has sworn on his soul not to have me, for whose mother I'm a +drunkard and a fool." + +The dinner ended in a gloomy silence; a dampness had come over all +the guests, and, except Ivanka and Milenko, all were too glad to get +rid of one another. + +On the morrow Uros called on Mrs. Giulianic, when her husband was not +at home. He apologised for his boorish behaviour, and explained +matters to her. + +"Your daughter is in love with Milenko, to whom you all owe your +lives; he, too, has lost his heart on her, whilst I--well, it's +useless speaking about myself." + +"I see it all now," quoth she, "and you are too good-hearted to wish +us all to be miserable on account of a stupid promise. Well, on the +whole, I think you were right." + +"Then you forgive me for what I did and what I said?" + +"Of course I do, now that I understand it all." + +Before the caique sailed off, Uros was fully forgiven, and Giulianic +even promised to write to his friend and explain matters to him. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +STARIGRAD + + +The caique reached Trieste in time to meet the _Spera in Dio_, which, +having discharged her goods, had taken a cargo of timber for Lissa. +At Trieste, the _pobratim_ bade good-bye to Captain Panajotti; and +he, having found there two of his countrymen, was able to set sail +for the Levant. From Lissa the _Spera in Dio_ returned to Trieste, +and there her cargo of sardines was disposed of to great advantage. + +The young men had been sailing now six months with the captain, and +he, seeing that they were not only good pilots, clever sailors, +reliable young men, but sharp in business to boot, agreed to let them +have the whole management of the ship, for he was obliged to go to +Fiume, and take charge of another brig of his, that had lost her +captain. Moreover, being well off, and having re-married, he was now +going to take his young wife on a cruise with him. + +"And who was the captain of your brig in Fiume?" + +"One of my late wife's brothers, and as he seems to have disapproved +of my second marriage, he has discarded my ship." + +"And is he married?" + +"Of course, he is; did you ever know any unmarried captain? Land rats +always seem to look upon marriage as a halter, whilst we sailors get +spliced as young as possible. Perhaps it's because we are so little +with our better halves that we are happy in married life." + +"And when you give up the sea will you settle down in Fiume?" + +"I suppose so, though Fiume is not my birth-place." + +"Isn't it? Where were you born, then?" + +"Where the dog-king was born!" + +"And where was the dog-king born? For, never having heard of him +before, I am now quite as wise as I was," said Uros. + +"Well, they say that Atilla, who was a very great king, was born at +Starigrad, the old castle, which, as you know, is not very far from +Nona. Starigrad is said to have been built on the ruins of a very old +city, which was once called Orsopola, but which now hardly deserves +the name of a town. The village where I was born goes by the name of +Torre-Vezza, but we in Slav know it as Kulina-pass-glav." + +"What a peculiar name, The Tower of the Dog's Head," added Milenko. + +"Yes, it is also called The Tower of the Dog-King +Kulina-pass-kraljev." + +"And why?" asked Uros. + +"Because it was the tower where Atilla was born, and as the king +happened to have a dog's ears, the place was called after him The +Tower of the Dog-King." + +"How very strange that a king should have a dog's ears." + +"Not so very strange either. Once, in olden times, a king actually +had ass's ears; but that was long before constitutional monarchy: I +doubt whether people would stand such things nowadays. Some +historians say that he had a dog's head, but that, I daresay, is an +exaggeration; and perhaps, after all, he had only big hairy ears, +something like those of a poodle. Anyhow, if the legend is to be +believed, it does not seem wonderful that Atilla was somewhat of a +mongrel and doggish in his behaviour." + +"Let's hear the legend," said Uros. + +Thereupon, the captain and his two mates, lying flat on their +stomachs, propped themselves up on their elbows, and began to puff at +their cigarettes. Then the captain narrated as follows: + + +About four hundred years after the birth of our Lord and Saviour +Jesus Christ, there lived in Hungary a King who was exceedingly +handsome. The Hungarians are, as you must know, a very fine race; but +this monarch was so remarkably good-looking, that no woman ever cast +her eyes upon him without falling in love with him at once. This King +had a daughter who was as beautiful a girl as he was handsome a man, +and all the kings and princes were anxious to marry her. She had a +great choice of suitors, for they flocked to Hungary from the four +quarters of the globe. She, however, discarded them all, for she +could not find the man of her choice amongst them. Some were too +fair, others a shade too dark; the one was too short, the other was +tall and lanky. In fact, one batch of kings went off and another +came, but with no better success; fair-bearded and blue-eyed +emperors were the same to her as negro potentates, she hardly looked +upon either. + +The King at first was vexed to find his daughter so hard to please, +then he grew angry at seeing her throw away so many good chances, and +at last he decided that she was to marry the very first man that +should come to ask for her hand, fair or dark, yellow or +copper-coloured. + +The suitor who happened to present himself was a powerful chief of +some nomadic tribe. He was not exactly a handsome man, for he was +shock-headed, short and squat, with sturdy, muscular limbs, big, +broad hands and square feet. As for his face, it was quite flat, with +a pug nose, thick lips and sharp teeth. As for his ears, they were +canine in their shape, large and hairy. + +Though he was not exactly a monster, still the girl refused him, +horrified. The man, gloating upon her, said, with a leer, that a time +might come when she would lick her chops to have him. Nay, he grinned +and showed his dog-like teeth as he uttered this very low expression, +rendering it ever so much the more obnoxious by emitting a low canine +laugh, something between a whine and a merry bark. The poor Princess +shuddered with horror and said she would as lief be wedded to one of +her father's curs. + +The father now got into a towering passion and asked the Princess why +she would not marry, and the damsel, melting into tears, and almost +fainting with grief and shame, confessed that she was in love with +him--her own father. + +Fancy the King's dismay! + +He had been bored the whole of his life by all the women, not only of +his Court, but of his whole kingdom, who were madly in love with him. +Wherever he went there was always a crowd of young girls and old +dames, married women and widows, gazing at him as if he had been the +moon; grey eyes and green eyes, black eyes and blue eyes, were always +staring, ogling or leering at him; and, amidst deep-drawn sighs, he +always heard the same words: "Ah! how handsome he is!" His fatal +beauty made more ravages amongst the fair sex even than the plague or +the small-pox; the cemeteries and lunatic asylums were peopled with +his victims. His dreams were haunted by the sighs and cries of these +love-sick females. At last he had decided to live in a remote castle, +in the midst of a forest, where he would see and be seen by as few +women as possible; but even here he could not find rest, his own +daughter had not escaped the infection. That was too much for the poor +King. He at once banished the Princess, not only from his sight--from +his castle--but even from his kingdom. He wished thereby to strike +the rest of womankind with terror. + +The poor girl, like Cain, wandered alone upon the surface of the +earth; bearing her father's curse, she was shunned by everyone who +met her; for the Hungarians have ever been loyal to their kings. + +She was, however, not quite alone; for as she left the royal palace +she was met on her way by an ugly-looking cur, with a shaggy head, a +short and squat body, sturdy muscular legs, big paws, a pug nose, +sharp white teeth, and huge flapping ears. He was not exactly a fine +dog, but he seemed good-natured enough; and as he followed her steps, +he looked at her piteously with his little eyes. + +She walked about for three days; then, sick at heart, weary and +faint, she sank down, ready to die. She was on a lonely highway, with +moors all covered with heather on either side; so that she could see +nothing but the limitless plain stretching far away in the distance +as far as the eye could reach. In that immense waste, with the bright +blue sky overhead, and the brown-reddish heath all around, where not +a tree, not a shrub, not a rock was to be seen, she walked on and on; +but she always seemed to be in the very centre of an unending circle. +Then a feeling of terror came over her; the utter loneliness in which +she found herself overpowered her. And now the mongrel cur, which had +remained behind, came running after her, the poor beast, which at +first she had hardly noticed, comforted her; he was now far more than +a companion or a protector, he was her only friend. + +She sank down by the wayside, to pat the faithful dog and to rest a +while; but when she tried to rise, her legs were so stiff that they +refused to carry her. However, the sun, that never tarries, went on +and left her far behind. She saw his fiery disc sink like a glowing +ball far behind the verge of the moor; then darkness, little by +little, spread itself over the earth. Night being more oppressive +than daylight, the tears began to trickle down her cheeks; then she +lay down on the grass, and began to sob bitterly and to bewail and +moan over her ill-timed fate. She was again comforted; for the ugly +cur came to sniff at her, to rub his nose against her cheeks, and +lick her hands, as if to soothe and assuage her sorrow. + +Tired as she was her heavy eyelids drooped, shut themselves, and soon +she sank into a deep sleep. + +That night she had a most wonderful vision. Soon she felt her body +beginning to get drowsy and the pain in her weary head to pass away; +then consciousness gradually vanished. Then it seemed that she saw +two genii of gigantic stature appear in front of her; the mightiest +of the two bent down, caught her up as if she had been a tiny baby +only a few months old, clasped her to his breast, then spread out his +huge bat-like wings and flew away with her up into the air. It was +pleasant to nestle in his brawny arms and feel the wind rush around +her. He carried her with the rapidity of the lightning across the +endless plains of Hungary, over the blue waters of the Danube, over +lakes and snow-capped chains of mountains, and wide gaping chasms +which looked like the mouths of hell. The genius at last alighted on +the summit of a very high peak, and from there he slid down, making +thus a deep glen that went to the sea-shore. The other genius took up +the dog in his arms, transported him likewise through the air, and +perched himself on the top of another neighbouring peak. The +mountain-tops on which they alighted were the Ruino and Sveti Berdo +of the Vellibic chain. Once on their feet again the two Afrites laid +down their burdens, and built--till early morning--a huge castle of +massive stone, not far from the sea. Their task done, they placed the +Princess in a beautiful bed, all inlaid with silver, ivory and +mother-of-pearl; they whispered in her ear that henceforth, and for +the remainder of her life, she would have to keep away from the sight +of men, for her beauty might have been as fatal as her father's had +been. Then they rose up in the air, vanished, or rather, melted away, +like the morning mist. + +You can fancy the Princess's surprise the next morning when--on +awaking--she found herself stretched on a soft couch, between fine +lawn sheets, in a lofty chamber, finer by far even than the one she +had had in her father's palace. She rubbed her eyes, thinking that +she was dreaming, and then lay for a few moments, half asleep and +half awake, hardly daring to move lest she might return, but too +soon, to the bitter misery of life. All at once, as she lay in this +pleasant sluggish state, she felt something moist and cold against +her cheek. She shuddered, awoke quite, turned round and found +herself in still closer contact with the cur's pug nose. + +The Princess drew back astonished, unable to understand whether she +was awake or asleep, and, as her eyes fell on the cur, she was +surprised to see a kind of broad and merry grin on the dog's face, +for the mongrel evidently seemed to be enjoying her surprise. + +The young girl continued to look round, bewildered, for, instead of +being on the dusty roadside, where she had dropped down out of sheer +weariness, she was lying on a comfortable bed, in a splendid room. +She stared at the costly tapestries which covered the walls, at the +beautiful inlaid furniture, at the damask curtains all wrought in +gold, at the crystal chandelier hanging down from the ceiling; and as +she gazed at all these, and many other things, the cur, with his big +hairy front paws on the edge of the couch, was standing on his hind +legs, looking at the beautiful young girl. + +The poor girl blushed to see the cur leering at her so doggedly. She +rose quickly, put on the beautiful dresses that were lying on a chair +ready for her, and went about the house. + +What she had taken for a dream, or a vision, was, in fact, nothing +but plain reality. She had, during the night, been carried from the +plains of Hungary down to the shores of the Adriatic, and shut up in +a fairy castle, alone with the faithful dog. From her windows she +could see the mountains on which the two Afrites had alighted, and on +the other side the sun-lit, translucent waters of the deep blue sea. + +The castle, which seemed to rise out of the steep inaccessible crags +on which it was perched, was built of huge blocks of stone. It had +thick machicolated towers at every corner, gates with drawbridges and +barbicans. The apartments within this stronghold, the remains of +which are still to be seen, were as sumptuous and as comfortable as +any king's daughter might wish. Her protectors had provided her with +all the necessities of daily life, for every day, at twelve, a dainty +dinner, cooked by invisible hands, was laid out in the lofty hall, +whilst in the morning a cup of exquisite chocolate was ready for her +on the table in her bedroom; besides, she found all that could induce +her to pass her time pleasantly, for she had statues, pictures, birds +and flowers. She could walk in the small garden in the midst of the +square court, or under the marble colonnade that surrounded it; she +could stitch, sew, embroider, play the lute, or paint. Still, she was +quite alone, and time lay heavy on her hands. She could see, from the +windows of the second floor, people at a distance stop and stare at +the wonderful castle that had risen out of a rock, like a mushroom, +in the space of a night; but nobody ever saw her. Alone with the cur +from morn to night, from year's end to year's end; he followed her, +step by step, whithersoever she went, and whatever she did he would +wag his tail approvingly. If she sat down, he would squat on his +haunches, on a stool opposite, and gloat on her with his little eyes +so persistently that she felt her head grow quite dizzy, and she +almost fancied that she had a human being sitting there in front of +her, watching lovingly her slightest movement; and then the strangest +fancies flitted through her brain. + +Several times she had tried, as a pastime, to teach the dog some +tricks; but she soon gave it up, for he always inspired her with a +kind of awe. He was such a knowing kind of a cur, that he invariably +seemed to read all her thoughts within her brain, and, winking at +her, did the very thing she wanted him to do, before she had even +tried to teach him the trick. Then, as he saw her open her eyes +wonderingly, he would look at her, grinning, as if he were making fun +of her; or else he sniffed at her in a patronising kind of way, as if +he would say: + +"Pooh! what a very silly kind of girl you are. Couldn't you, a human +being, think of something better than that?" + +It happened one day that, as they sat opposite each other, looking +into each other's eyes--he as quiet as a stone dog on a gate, she +with her tapering fingers interlocked, twirling her thumbs as a means +of passing her time--the Princess was thinking of her many rejected +suitors, whose hearts she had broken; even of the last one, the +short, squat man, with sturdy limbs, large hands and feet, a shaggy +head and huge ears. And she sighed, for though he was much more of a +Satyr than like her Hyperean father, still he was a man. + +Thereupon, she looked at the cur, with its sturdy limbs, its shaggy +head and huge ears; and she sighed again. The dog winked at her. + +"Cur," she said to herself, "you are ugly enough; still, if you were +a man I think I could fall in love with you." + +The cur stood on his hind legs, his head a little on one side; there +was a knowing, impudent look in his eyes. Then he uttered a kind of +doggish laugh, something between a whine and a bark; then, after +showing his teeth in a grinning kind of way, he licked his chops at +her sneeringly. + +The words of her last suitor were just then ringing in her ears. She +looked at the cur in amazement, for she almost fancied he had uttered +those selfsame words. + +The cur was evidently mocking her, as he rolled his shaggy head +about, and gloated at her just as her last suitor had done. +Thereupon, she blushed deeply, and covering her face with her hands, +she burst into tears. + +The poor dog thereupon came to lick the tears that oozed through her +fingers, so that she felt somewhat comforted by the affection which +this poor mongrel showed her. + +This, thought she, is the end of every haughty beauty who is hard to +please and who thinks no one is good enough for her. She rejects all +the best matches in early youth, she turns up her nose at every +eligible _parti_, until--when age creeps on and beauty fades--she is +happy to accept the first boor that pops the question. As for +herself, she had not even a boor whom she could love, not even the +churlish man with the huge ears. + +That evening, undressing before going to bed, the Princess stood, sad +and disconsolate, in front of her mirror. She was still of a radiant +beauty, quite as handsome as she had ever been; but alas! she knew +that her beauty would soon begin to fade in that lonely tower. + +What had she done to the gods to deserve the punishment she was +undergoing? Why had the genii shut her up in that tower to pine there +unheeded and unknown? Why had they not left her to wander about the +world, or even die upon those blasted heaths of her country? Death +was better than having to waste away in a living death, doomed to +eternal imprisonment. + +It was a splendid night in early May. The moon, on one side, silvered +the placid waters of the Adriatic, whilst it gleamed on the still +snow-capped tops of the Vellebic, on the other. The breeze that came +in through the open casement wafted in the smell of the sea, and of +the sage, the hyssop and lavender that grew all around. A nightingale +was trilling in an amorous strain, blackbirds whistled in plaintive +notes, just as in the daytime the wild doves had cooed their eternal +love-song to their mate. + +The poor girl leaned her plump and snowy arms on the white marble +window-sill and sighed. How lovely the world is, she thought, and +then she remained as if entranced by an ecstatic vision. Within the +amber moon that rolled on high and flooded all below with mellow +light, the Princess saw a lover with his lass. Their mouths were +closely pressed in one long kiss, as thirsty lips that cleave unto +the brim of some ambrosial aphrodisiac cup. Above, the stars were +shining forth with love, whilst, down below, the whole earth seemed +to pant; the night-bird's lay, the lisping waves' low voice, and the +insect's chirp all spoke of unknown bliss. The very air, all laden +with the strong scent of roses, lilies and sweet asphodel, was like +the breath of an enamoured youth who whispered in her ear sweet words +of love. A scathing flame was kindled in her breast, and in her veins +her blood was all aglow; her shattered body seemed to melt like wax, +such was the unknown yearning which she felt upon that lovely night +in early May. With reeling, aching head and tottering steps, the +forlorn maiden slowly crept to bed, and while the hot tears trickled +down her cheeks, oblivion steeped her senses in soft sleep. + +That night the wandering moon, that came peeping through the lofty +windows, saw a strange sight. Upon her round disc a broad, sallow +face could now be plainly seen, grinning good-humouredly at what she +beheld. + +That night the Princess had a dream, or rather a vision. No sooner +did she shut her eyes and her senses began to wander and lose +themselves, than she saw the shaggy cur come into the room, with his +usual waddling gait, wagging his tail according to his wont. He came +up to her bed, stood upon his hind legs, put his big paws upon the +white sheets, and began to look at her just in the very same way he +had done that morning when she awoke to find herself shut up within +the battlemented walls of that lonely tower by the sea. She was +almost amused to see him stare at her so gravely, for he looked like +a wise doctor standing by some patient's bed. Until now there was +nothing very strange in this vision, but now comes the most wonderful +and interesting part, which shows how truth and fancy, the +occurrences of the day before and long-forgotten facts, are often +blended together to make up the plot of our dreams. + +As the Princess was looking upon the dog's paws, she saw them change, +not all at once, but quietly undergo a slow process of +transformation. They, little by little, grew longer and shaped +themselves into fingers and broad hands. She looked up--in her sleep, +of course--and beheld the fore part of the legs gradually lengthen +themselves into two sturdy arms. The dog's shaggy head became +somewhat blurred, and in its stead a man's tawny mass of hair +appeared. In fact, after a few minutes, the last rejected suitor, +who, indeed, had always borne a strong likeness to the ugly cur that +had followed her in her exile, now appeared before her. + +He was not a handsome man; no, far from handsome; still, on the +whole, it was better to have as her companion a human being than a +dog. Still, strange to say, she now liked this man on account of his +strong resemblance to the faithful dumb cur, the only friend she had +now had for years. + +"You said that if I were a man you could love me," quoth he, in +something like a soft and gentle growl, sniffing at her as he spoke, +evidently unable to forbear from his long-acquired canine customs. +"Well, now, do you love me?" + +The young girl--in her dream--stretched out her hand and patted the +man's dishevelled hair as she had been wont to caress the cur's +shaggy head; such is the force of habit. + +"I told you that the time would come when you would lick your chops +to have me back; so you see my words, after all, have come true." + +It was a churlish remark, but the young girl had got so accustomed to +the cur's strange ways, that she did not resent it; she even allowed +the man to kiss her hands, just as the mongrel had been wont to lick +them, which shows how careful we ought to be in avoiding bad habits. + +It was then that the rolling, rollicking moon came peeping through +the window with a broad smile on her chubby round face, just as if +she was approving of the sight she saw. + +On the morrow, when the Princess awoke, she looked for the cur +everywhere, but, strange to say, he was nowhere to be found. She +ransacked the whole house, but he had disappeared; she peered through +the barbicans, glanced down from the battlements; she mounted to the +top of the highest tower, strained her eyes, and gazed on the +surrounding country, but the dog was nowhere to be seen. + +A sense of loneliness and languor came over her. It was so dreary to +be shut up in those large and lofty halls, that, at times, the very +sound of her steps made her shiver. Her very food became distasteful +to her. + +From that day--being quite alone--she longed to have, at least, a +little child which she might love, and which might help her to +beguile the long hours of solitude. Every day her maternal instincts +grew stronger within her, and every evening, as she stood leaning on +the marble window-sill, she prayed the kind genii, who had taken pity +on her when she had been wandering on the moor, and almost dying of +weariness, of hunger and of thirst, to be kind to her, and bring her +a tiny little baby to take the place of her lost cur, for life +without a child was quite without an aim. + +Months passed; the blossoms of the trees had fallen, the fruit had +ripened, the harvest had been gathered, the days had grown shorter, +the sea was now always lashed into fury, all the summer-birds had +flown far away, the others were all hushed; only the raucous cries of +the gulls were heard as they flew past the tower where she dwelt. The +days had grown shorter and shorter, the wind was cold, the weather +was bleak, when at last her wish was granted. + +It was on a dreary, stormy night in early February; the Princess was +lying on her bed, unable to sleep, when all at once the window was +dashed open, and a huge stork flew in. It was the very stork, they +say, that, years afterwards, was so fatal to the town of Aquileja, +not very far from there. At that moment the poor Princess was so +terrified that she quite lost her senses; but when she came back to +herself, she found a tiny baby--not an hour old--lying in bed by her +side. + +The wind was blowing in a most terrific way. The Quarnero, which is +always stormy, was nothing but one mass of white foam. The huge waves +dashed together, like fleecy rams butting against each other. The +billows ever rose higher, whilst the waters of the lowering clouds +overhead came pouring down upon the flood below. All the elements +seemed unchained against that lonely tower. The clouds came pouring +down in waterspouts upon it; the breakers dashed against it; the two +ravines, the big and the little Plas Kenizza--formed by the genii as +they had slid down the mountains--were now huge torrents, rolling +down with a roaring noise against the white walls of the tower, +making it look more like an enormous lighthouse on a rock than a +princely castle. The thunder never stopped rumbling; the forked +lightning darted incessantly down upon the highest pinnacles and the +whole stronghold, from its battlements down to its very base. Such a +terrific storm had never been known for ages; in fact, not since the +days when the mighty Julius had been murdered. + +By the lurid light of the incessant flashes, the Princess first saw +her infant boy; and she heard its first wail amongst the deafening +din of the falling thunder-bolts. With motherly fondness, she pressed +the baby to her breast; whilst her heart was beating as if it were +about to break. What a thrill of unutterable bliss she felt that +moment; but, alas! all her joy passed into sorrow when she perceived +that her beautiful baby--beautiful, at least, to a mother's eyes--had +two dear little dog's ears. + +Dogs' ears are by no means ugly--although they are occasionally +cropped. Why was it, then, that the Princess saw them with horror and +dismay? + +Ears, the young mother thought, are the very worst features man +possesses. They stand out prominently and look uncouth, or they +sprawl out along the sides of the head; they are either as colourless +as if they had just been boiled, or as red as boiled lobsters. +Anyhow, she was somewhat fastidious about the shape and tint of those +appendages, so that now the sight of those huge hairy lobes was +perfectly loathsome to her, and as she looked upon them she burst +into tears. The poor forlorn baby, feeling itself snubbed, was +wailing by her side. After a little while she took up her infant; the +disgust she felt was stronger than ever; moreover, she was thoroughly +disappointed. She had begged for a baby, not for a little puppy. In +her vexation--she was a very self-willed girl, as princesses often +are--she took up the babe, got out of the bed, and in two strides she +was by the window. She would cast the little monster into the dark +night from where it had come. She herself did not want it. + +As she reached the open window the two genii, her protectors, stood +before her. + +"Stop, unnatural mother!" cried the taller of the two. "What are you +about to do?" + +The Princess shrank back, frightened and trembling. There are a few +things at which we do not exactly like to be caught: infanticide is +one of them. + +"Know," said the Afrite, in a voice like a peal of thunder, "that the +child, though with dog's ears, is not only of royal lineage, but he +is, moreover, the son of a great genius. About four hundred years ago +another Virgin gave birth to a Child, who, later on, was put to death +upon a cross because the people did not want him as their king. Well, +now, the followers of that virgin's child are our bitterest enemies; +our only hope is in your son; he will grow up to become a mighty +warrior and avenge us. He will waste the towns on which the gold +cross glistens, he will make their kings his captives, and all their +priests his slaves. The blood of the Christians will run in torrents, +even as the rain comes down the ravines to-night; his shafts will be +like the thunderbolts that have fallen on your tower to-night. His +name--which will be heard all over the world like the rumbling in the +clouds--will be The Scourge of God, and he will chastise men for +their evil deeds. Wherever he passes the grass will wither under his +feet, and the waste will be his wake. Only, that all these things +might come to pass, thou must well bear in mind that his head be +never shorn nor his beard shaven; let the tawny locks of his hair +fall about his shoulders like a lion's mane, for all his strength +will lie therein. As soon as his arm is able to wield a weapon, the +trail of blood flowing from a heifer's wound will show him where the +sword of the great god of war lies rusting in the rushes; with that +brand in his hand all men will bow before him, or fall like grass +beneath the mower's scythe. Love alone will overcome him, and a young +girl's lust will lull him into eternal sleep. He will be versed in +magic lore, and be able to read the starry skies as a written scroll. +From his very infancy he will feel a wholesome hatred for the +Nazarenes, his foes as well as ours." + +Having uttered these words, the Afrite rose up like smoke and faded +away in the dark clouds. + +In the meanwhile the child grew up of a superhuman strength, short of +stature but square, and with very broad shoulders; and when he was +but seven years of age the gates of the castle, hitherto always shut, +opened themselves for him. From that time he passed his days in the +dells and hollows of the mountains, chasing the wild beasts that +abounded in those gorges and in the neighbouring forests, almost +inaccessible to man. His mother saw him but little, for he only came +back to the castle when heavily laden with his prey. + +He was but a youth when he organised a band of freebooters; and with +their help he sacked and plundered all the neighbouring towns and +villages, and the plains all around were strewn with the bones of the +dead. Being not only invincible, but just and generous to his men, he +soon found himself at the head of an army the like of which the world +had never seen. He destroyed the immense town of Aquileja, the +largest city of the Adriatic coast, and even burnt down the forest +which stretched from Ravenna to Trieste. Whithersoever he went the +houses fell, the temples and the theatres crumbled down, and he left +desolation behind him; so that, before he had even reached the age of +manhood, the words of the genius were fulfilled. + +At that time the old King of Hungary happened to die, leaving no +heirs to ascend his throne. Anarchy desolated the land. The nobles, +who were at variance as to whom they were to elect, having heard, in +some mysterious way, that their beautiful Princess was still alive, +and that the great conqueror who was at that time plundering Rome was +her son, sent an embassy to the Princess, asking her to return to her +country, and begging her, as a boon, to accept the crown for her +child. + +The Princess, whose name was Mor-Lak (the Daughter of Misfortune), +lived to a good old age. When she died she left her name to the sea +and to the channel, the waters of which bathe the town in which she +dwelt; therefore, the people who live thereabouts are, to this day, +called Morlacchi. If they have no more canine ears, their hair is +still as tawny as that of the dog-king, though all the other +Dalmatians are dark. Moreover, if you go to Starigrad you can see, as +I told you, the ruins of the Torre Vezza, the fairy tower where the +virgin's son was born; likewise the huge chasms of the Ruino and the +Sveti Berdo, the holy mountain where the Afrites slid down, in +remembrance of which the inhabitants still call them the Paklenizza +Malo and the Paklenizza Veliko, or, the Gorges of the Big and the +Little Devil. + + +A few days afterwards, the captain bade the young men good-bye, and +started for Fiume, whilst they, having their cargo ready, set sail +for Odessa. The weather was fine, the wind was fair; therefore, the +first voyage during which they were in sole command of the ship was a +most prosperous, though a rather rough one. For during four days they +had shipped several seas, so that they had the water up to their +waists, and, with all that, no water to drink; but these are the +incidents appertaining to a seafaring life, which sailors forget as +soon as they set foot on shore. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +THE "KARVARINA" + + +Radonic had never been much of a favourite amongst his fellow +countrymen, for he was of an unsociable, surly, overbearing +disposition; still, from the day he had killed Vranic public opinion +began to change in his behalf. A man gifted with an evil eye is a +baleful being, whom everyone dreads meeting--a real curse in a town, +for a number of the daily accidents and trivial misfortunes were +ascribed to the malign influence of his visual organs. It was, +therefore, but natural that Radonic should, tacitly, be looked upon +as a kind of deliverer. Besides this unavowed feeling of relief at +having been rid of the _jettatore_, no one could feel any pity for +Vranic; for even the more indifferent could only shrug their +shoulders, and mutter to themselves, "Serve him right," for he had +only met with the fate he had deserved. + +As for Radonic, he daily grew in the general esteem. There is +something manly in the life of a highwayman who, with his gun, stops +a whole caravan, or asks for bread, his dagger in his hand. It is a +reversion to the old type of prehistoric man. But, more than a +highwayman, Radonic was a _heyduk_, fighting against the Turks, and +putting his life in jeopardy at every step he made. + +For a man of Radonic's frame of mind, there was something enticing in +the life he was leading; struggles and storms seemed congenial to his +nature. On board his ship he would only cast away his sullenness when +danger was approaching, and hum a tune in the midst of the tempest; +in fact, he only seemed to breathe at ease when a stiff gale was +blowing. + +He arrived at Cettinje on the eve of an expedition against the Turks, +just when every man that could bear a gun was welcome, especially +when he made no claim to a share of the booty. Having reached the +confines of Montenegro, amidst those dark rocks, in that eyrie of the +brave, having the sky for his roof and his gun for a pillow, life for +the first time seemed to him worth living. He did not fear death +--nay, he almost courted it. He felt no boding cares for the morrow; +the present moment was more than enough for him. Though he lacked +entirely all the softness of disposition that renders social life +agreeable, he had in him some of the qualities of a hero, or, at +least, of a great military chief--boldness, hardihood and valour. +During the whole of his lifetime he had always tried to make himself +feared, never loved. He cared neither for the people's admiration nor +for their disdain; he only required implicit obedience to orders +given. With such a daring, unflinching character, he soon acquired a +name that spread terror whenever it was uttered; and in a skirmish +that took place a week after his arrival at Cettinje, he killed a +Turkish chieftain, cut off his head, and sent it, by a prisoner he +had taken, to the _Pasha_ of the neighbouring province, informing +this official that he would, if God granted him life, soon treat him +in the same way. A high sum was at once set upon his head, but it was +an easier thing to offer the prize than to obtain it. + +Radonic would have been happy enough now, had he not been married, +or, at least, if he had been wedded to a woman who loved him, and who +would have welcomed him home after a day's, or a week's, hard +fighting--who would have mourned for him had he never come back; but, +alas! he knew that Milena hated him. Roaming in the lonely forests, +climbing on the trackless mountains, lurking amidst the dark rocks +and crags, his heart yearned for the wife he had ill-treated. + +A month, and even more, had elapsed since Vranic had been murdered. +Zwillievic, his father-in-law, had been in Budua, and he had then +come back to Cettinje; but, far from bringing Milena with him, he had +left his wife there to take care of this daughter of his, who, in the +state in which she was, had never recovered from the terrible shock +she had received on that morning when she stumbled upon Vranic's +corpse. + +All kinds of doubts again assailed him, and jealousy, that had always +been festering in his breast, burst out afresh, fiercer than ever; it +preyed again upon him, embittered his life. After all, was it not +possible that Milena was only shamming simply not to come to +Cettinje? Perhaps, he thought, one of the many young men who had +tried to flirt with her, was now at Budua making love to her. + +He, therefore, made up his mind to brave the _pamdours_ (the Austrian +police), to meet with the anger of Vranic's brothers, just to see +Milena again, and find out how she fared, and what she was doing. He, +one evening, started from Cettinje, went down the steep road leading +to the sea-shore, got to the gates of the town at nightfall, and, +wrapped in his great-coat, with his hood pulled down over his eyes, +he crossed the town and reached his house. + +He stopped at the window and looked in; Milena was nowhere to be +seen. He was seized by a dreadful foreboding--what if he had come too +late? Two women were standing near the door of the inner room, +talking. He, at first, could hardly recognise them by the glimmering +light of the oil-lamp; still, after having got nearer the window, he +saw that one of them was Mara Bellacic, and the other his +mother-in-law. + +He then went to the door, tapped gently, and pushed it open; seeing +him, both the women started back astonished. + +His first question was, of course, about his wife. She was a little +better, they said, but still very ill. + +"She is asleep now. You can come in and see her, but take care not to +wake her," added Milena's mother. + +"Yes," quoth Mara, "take care, for should she wake and see you so +unexpectedly, the shock might be fatal." + +Radonic went noiselessly up to the door of the bedroom and peeped in. +Seeing Milena lying motionless on the bed, pale, thin and haggard, he +was seized with a feeling of deep pity, such as he had never felt +before in the whole of his life, and he almost cursed the memory of +his mother, for she had been the first to set him against his wife, +and had induced him to be so stern and harsh towards her. + +He skulked about that night, and on the following day he sent for +Bellacic, for Markovic, and for some kinsmen and acquaintances, and +asked them to help him out of his difficulties. They at once +persuaded him to try and make it up with Vranic's relations, to pay +the _karvarina_ money, and thus hush up the whole affair. + +While public opinion was favourable to him, it would be easy enough +to find several persons to speak in his behalf, to act as mediators +or umpires, and settle the price to be paid for the blood that had +been spilt. + +Although the Montenegrins and the inhabitants of the Kotar, as well +as almost all Dalmatians, are--like the Corsicans--justly deemed a +proud race, amongst whom every wrong must be washed out with blood, +and although they all have a strong sense of honour, so that revenge +becomes a sacred duty, jealously transmitted from one generation to +another, still the old Biblical way of settling all litigations with +fines, and putting a price for the loss of life, is still in full +force amongst them. + +In the present case Vranic's brothers were quite willing to come to a +compromise, that is to say, to give up all thoughts of vengeance, +provided, after all the due formalities had taken place, an adequate +sum were paid to them. First, they had never been fond of their +brother; secondly, they knew quite well that Radonic was fully +justified in what he had done, and that, moreover, everybody +commended him for his rash deed; thirdly, having inherited their +brother's property, the little sorrow they had felt for him the first +moment had quite passed away. + +Markovic and Bellacic set themselves to work at once. Their first +care was to find six young and, possibly, handsome women, with six +babes, who, acting as friends to Radonic, would go to Vranic's +brothers and intercede for him. + +It was rather a difficult task, for Radonic had few friends at Budua. +All the sailors that had been with him had not only rued the time +spent on his ship, but had been enemies to him ever afterwards. He +had married a wife from Montenegro, envied for her beauty, and not +much liked by the gentler sex. Milena had been too much admired by +men for women to take kindly to her; still, as she was now on a bed +of sickness, and all her beauty blasted, envy had changed into pity. + +After no end of trouble, many promises of silk kerchiefs, yards of +stuff for dresses, or other trifles, six rather good-looking women, +and the same number of chubby babies, were mustered, and, on a day +appointed for the purpose, they were to go, together with Markovic +and Bellacic, to sue for peace. + +In the meanwhile Radonic had stealthily called on a number of +persons, had invited them to drink with him, related to them the +number of Turks he had shot, and by sundry means managed to dispose +them in his favour. They, by their influence, tried to pacify the +Vranic family, and a month's truce was granted to Radonic, during +which time the preliminaries of peace were undertaken. + +At last, after many consultations and no end of smooth talking, the +day for the ceremony of the _karvarina_ was fixed upon. Markovic and +Bellacic, together with the six women, carrying their babes and +followed by a crowd of spectators, went up to Vranic's house. As soon +as they got to the door, the women fell down on their knees, bowing +down their heads, and, whilst the babes began to shriek lustily, the +men called out, in a loud voice: + +"Vranic, our brother in God and in St. John, we greet you! Take pity +on us, and allow us to come within your house." + +Having repeated this request three times--during which the women +wailed and the babies shrieked always louder--the door at last was +opened, and the murdered man's two younger brothers appeared on the +threshold. + +Though all the household had been for more than two hours on the +look-out for this embassy, still the two men put on an astonished +look, as if they had not the remotest idea as to what it all meant, +or why or wherefore the crowd had gathered round their house. + +Standing on the threshold they inquired of the men what they wanted, +after which they went and, taking every woman by the hand, made her +get up; then, imprinting a kiss on every howling babe, they tried to +soothe and quiet it. This ceremony over, the women were begged to +enter the house and be seated. Once inside, Bellacic, acting as chief +intercessor, handed to the Vranics six yards of fine cloth which +Radonic had provided him with, this being one of the customary peace +offerings. Then, taking a big bottle of plum brandy from the hands of +one of his attendants, he poured out a glass and offered it to the +master of the house; the glass went round, and the house soon echoed +with the shouts of "_Zivio!_" or "Long life!" and the merriment +increased in the same ratio as the spirits in the huge bottle +decreased. + +When everybody was in a boisterous good-humour--except the two +Vranics, for strong drink only rendered them peevish and +quarrelsome--the subject of the visit was broached. + +Josko Vranic, the elder of the two brothers, would at first not +listen to Bellacic's request. + +"What!" exclaimed he, in the flowery style of Eastern mourners, "do +you ask me to come to terms with Radonic, who cruelly murdered my +brother? Do you wish me to press to my heart the viper from whose +teeth we still smart? Do you think I have no soul, no faith? Oh! my +poor brother"--(he hated him in his lifetime)--"my poor brother, +murdered in the morning of his life, in the spring of his youth, a +star of beauty, a lion of strength and courage; had the murderer's +hand but spared him, what great things might he not have done! Oh, my +brother, my beloved brother! No; blood alone can avenge blood, and +his soul can never rest in peace till my dagger is sheathed in his +murderer's heart. No, Radonic must die; blood for blood; life for +life. I must find out the foul dog and strangle him as he strangled +my beloved brother, or I am no true Slav. Tell me where he is, if you +know, that I may tear him to pieces; for nothing can arrest my arm!" + +Josko Vranic was a tailor, and a very peaceful kind of a tailor into +the bargain. It is true that, when his brain was fuddled with drink, +he was occasionally blood-thirsty; but his rage expended itself far +more in words than in deeds. For the present, he was simply trying to +act his part well, and was only repeating hackneyed phrases often +uttered in houses of mourning, at funerals, and at wakes. + +All his thoughts were bent on the sum of money he might obtain for +_karvarina_, and he, therefore, thought that the more he magnified +his grief, the greater would be the sum he might ask for blood-money. + +Bellacic and Markovic, as well as the other friends of both parties +gathered in the house, deemed it advisable to leave him to give +utterance to his grief. Then, when he had said his say and the +children were quieted, Radonic's friends began to persuade him to +forego all ideas of vengeance, and--after much useless talking--many +prayers from the women, and threats from the babes to begin shrieking +again, Vranic agreed that he would try and smother his grief, nay, +for their sakes, forget his resentment; therefore, after much +cogitation, he named a jury of twenty-four men to act as arbitrators +between him and the murderer, and settle the price that was to be +paid for the blood. This jury was, of course, composed of persons +that he thought hated Radonic, and who would at least demand a sum +equivalent to £200 or £300. He little knew how much his own brother +had been disliked, and the low price that was set on his life. + +These twenty-four persons having been appointed, Radonic called upon +all of them, and got them to meet at Bellacic's house the day before +the ceremony of the _karvarina_; he sent there some small barrels of +choice wine, and provisions of all kinds for the feast of that day, as +well as for the banquet of the morrow, for he knew quite well that +the gall of a bitter enemy is less acrid after a good dinner, and +that an indifferent person becomes a friend when he is chewing the +cud of the dainty things you have provided for him. + +As soon as supper was over, and while the _bucara_ of sweet _muscato_ +wine was being handed round, Bellacic submitted the case to the +twenty-four arbiters, expatiated like a lawyer on the heinous way +Vranic had acted, how like a real snake he had crept between husband +and wife, trying to put enmity between them, and how he had succeeded +in his treachery, doing all this to seduce a poor distracted woman. + +"Now," continued Bellacic, "put yourselves in Radonic's place and +tell me how you yourselves would have acted. If you have the right to +shoot the burglar who, in the dead of night, breaks into your house +to rob you of your purse, is it not natural that you should throttle +the ruffian who, under the mantle of friendship, sneaks into your +bedroom to rob you of your honour? Is the life of such a man worth +more than that of the scorpion you crush under your heel? Vranic was +neither my friend nor my enemy; therefore, I have no earthly reason +to set you against him, nor to induce you to be friendly towards +Radonic. I only ask you to be just, and to tell me the worth of the +blood he has spilt." + +Bellacic stopped for a moment to see the effect of his speech on his +listeners. All seemed to approve his words no less than they did the +sweet wine of the _bucara_; then after a slight pause, he again went +on. + +"Radonic may have many faults, nay, he has many; are we not all of us +full of blemishes? Still, the poor that will be fed for many days +from the crumbs of our feast will surely not say that he is a miser. +Still--withal he is lavish--one thing he is fully determined not to +do, that is to pay more for the blood he has spilt than it is really +worth. + +"It is true that the heirs of the dead man are filling the whole town +with their laments; but do you think that those who mourn so loudly +would gladly welcome their brother back, nay, I ask you how many hands +would be stretched out to greet Vranic if the grave were to yawn and +give up the dead man. Who, within his innermost heart, is not really +glad to have got rid of a man who carried an evil influence with him +whithersoever he went? + +"But speaking the truth in this case is almost like trying to set you +against the exaggerated claims of the late man's brothers; whilst you +all know quite well that I only wish you to act according to your +better judgment, and whatever your decision be, we shall abide by it. +You are husbands, you are Slavs; the honour of your homes, of your +children, of your wives is dear to you; therefore, I drink to your +honour with Radonic's wine." + +As the _bucara_ could not go round fast enough, so glasses were +filled, and toasts were drunk. After that, Bellacic left the room, so +that the jury might discuss the matter under no restraint. Although +twenty of the men were in favour of Radonic, still four thought that +the arguments used in his favour had been so brilliant that Bellacic +had rather charmed than convinced them. They were, however, overruled +by the many, and the bumpers they swallowed in the heat of the +argument ended by convincing them, too. + +"Gentlemen," said Bellacic, coming back, "I shall not ask you now if +Vranic's life was worth a herd or a single cow, a flock or a single +sheep, or even a goat, for here is Teodoroff, the _guzlar_, who is +going to enliven us with the glorious battle of Kossovo, and the +great deeds of our immortal Kraglievic." + +The bard came in, and he was listened to with rapt attention during +the half-hour that his poem lasted. No one spoke, or drank, or even +moved; all remained as if spell-bound; their eyes seemed to seek for +the words as they flowed from the poet's lips. At last the _guzlar_ +stopped, and after a few moments of silence, shouts of applause broke +forth. Just then Radonic came into the room, and the twenty-four men +all shook hands with him heartily, and, excited as the audience was +with the daring deeds of Marko Kraglievic, Bellacic made him relate +some of his encounters with the Turks, and show the holes in his coat +through which the bullets had passed. + +"And now, Teodoroff," said Radonic, finishing the story of his +exploits, "give us something lively; I think we've had enough of +bloodshed for the whole evening." + +"Yes," added Bellacic; "but let us first finish the business for +which we have been brought together, and then we can devote the +remainder of our time to pleasure." + +"Yes," retorted one of the twenty-four arbitrators, "it's time the +matter was settled." + +"Well, then," quoth Markovic, "what is the price of the _jettatore_'s +life?" + +"As for me," said one of the younger men, "it's certainly not worth +that of a cow!" + +"No, nor that of a goat!" added another. + +"Well, let's be generous towards the tailor," said Bellacic, +laughing, "and settle his brother's life at the price of a huge +silver Maria Theresa dollar, eh?" + +Some of the arbitrators were about to demur, but as the proposal had +come from them, they could not well gainsay it. + +"Then it's settled," said Bellacic, hastening to fill the glasses; +"and now, Teodoroff, quick! give us one of your best songs; something +brisk and lively." + +The _guzlar_ took up his instrument, played a few bars as a kind of +prelude, emitted a prolonged "Oh!" which ended away in a trill, and +then began the tale of + + +MARKO KRAGLIEVIC AND JANKO OF SEBINJE. + + Two brave and bonny knights, both bosom friends, + Were Marko Kraglievic of deathless fame, + And Janko of Sebinje, fair and wise. + Both seemed to have been cast within one mould, + For no two brothers could be more alike. + One day, as they were chatting o'er their wine, + Fair Janko said unto his faithful friend: + "My wife has keener eyes than any man's, + And sharper wits besides; our sex is dull; + No man has ever played a trick on her." + Then Marko, smiling, said: "Do let me try + To match, in merry sport, my wits 'gainst hers." + "'Tis well," quoth Janko, with a winsome smile, + "But, still, beware of woman's subtle guile." + Then 'twixt the friends a wager soon was laid; + Fair Janko pledged his horse, a stallion rare, + A fleet and milk-white steed, Kula by name, + And with his horse he pledged his winsome wife; + Whilst, for his wager, Marko pawned his head. + "Now, one thing more; lend me thy clothes," said Mark, + "Thy jewelled weapons, and thy milk-white steed." + And Janko doffed, and Marko donned the clothes, + Then buckled on his friend's bright scimitar. + As soon as Janko's wife spied him from far, + She thought it was her husband, and ran out; + But then she stopped, for something in his mien, + Which her quick eye perceived, proclaimed at once + That warlike knight upon her husband's horse + To be the outward show, the glittering garb + And a fair mirage of the man she loved. + Thereon within her rooms she hied in haste, + And to her help she called her trusty maid. + "O Kumbra, sister mine," she said to her, + "I know not why, but Janko seems so wroth. + Put on my finest clothes, and hie to him." + When Marko saw the maid, he turned aside, + And wrapped himself within his wide _kalpak_, + Then said that he would fain be left alone. + He thought, in sooth, that she was Janko's wife. + A dainty meal was soon spread for the knight. + The lady called again her trusted maid, + And thus she spake: "My Kumbra, for this night + Sleep in my room, nay, in my very bed. + And, for the deed that I demand of thee, + This purse of gold is thine. Besides this gift, + Thou henceforth wilt be free." The maiden bowed, + And said: "My lady's wish is law for me." + Now Marko at his meal sat all alone, + When he had supped he went into the room + Where Kumbra was asleep; there he sat down, + And passed the whole long night upon a chair, + Close by the young girl's bed. He seemed to be + A father watching o'er his sickly child. + But when the gloaming shed its glimmering light, + The knight arose; he went, with stealthy steps, + And cut a lock from off the young girl's head, + Which he at once hid in his breast, with care. + Before the maiden woke he left the house, + And rode full-speed back to his bosom friend. + Still, ere he had alighted from his horse: + "You've lost!" said Janko, with his winsome smile. + "I've won!" quoth Marko, with a modest grace; + "Here is the token that I've won my bet." + And Janko took the golden curl, amazed. + Just then a page, who rode his horse full-speed, + Came panting up, and, on his bended knee, + He handed to his lord a parchment scroll. + The letter thus began: "O husband mine, + Why sendest thou such pert and graceless knights, + That take thy manor for a roadside inn, + And in the dead of night clip Kumbra's locks?" + Thereon, in sprightly style, the wife then wrote + All that had taken place the day before. + And Janko, as he read, began to laugh. + Then, turning to his friend: "Sir Knight," quoth he, + "Have henceforth greater care of thine own head, + Which now, by right and law, belongs to me. + Beware of woman, for the wisest man + Has not the keenness of a maiden's eye. + Come, now, I pledge thy health in foaming wine, + For this, indeed, hath been a merry joke." + + +The greater part of the night was passed in drinking and in listening +to the bard's songs. Little by little sleepiness and the fumes of the +wine overpowered each single man, so that in the small hours almost +all the guests were stretched on the mats that strewed the floor, +fast asleep. + +On the morrow the twenty-four men of the jury went, all in a body, to +Vranic's house. They sat down in state and listened to the tale of +the brothers' grievances, whilst they sipped very inferior +_slivovitz_ and gravely smoked their long pipes. When the tailor +ended the oft-repeated story of his grief and grievances, then they +went back to Bellacic's house, where they gave ear to all the +extenuating circumstances which Radonic brought forward to exculpate +himself. After the culprit had finished, the twenty-four men sat down +in council, and discussed again the matter which had been settled the +evening before. + +A slight, but choice, repast was served to them; and Radonic took +care that no fault could be found with the wine, for he feared that +they might, in their soberer senses, change their mind and reverse +their opinion. + +The dinner had been cooked to perfection, the wine was of the best, +the arguments Radonic had brought forward to clear himself were +convincing--even the four that had been wavering the evening before +were quite for him now. The majority of these men were married, and +jealous of their honour; the others were going to marry, and were +even more jealous than the married men. If Radonic could not be +absolved entirely, still he could hardly be condemned. + +Thus the day passed in much useless talking and discussing, and night +came on. At sundown the guests began to pour in, and soon the house +was crowded. A deputation was then sent to the Vranic family to beg +them to come to the feast. The tailor at first demurred; but being +pressed he yielded, and came with his brother. + +The evening began with the _Karva-Kolo_, or the blood-dance. It is +very like the usual _Kolo_, only the music, especially in the +beginning, is a kind of funeral march, or a dirge; soon the movement +gets brisker, until it changes into the usual _Kolo_ strain. The +orchestra that evening was a choice one; it consisted of two +_guzlas_, a _dipla_ or bag-pipe, and a _sfiraliza_ or Pan's +seven-reeded flute. Later on there was even a triangle, which kept +admirable time. + +A couple of dancers began, another joined in, and so on, until the +circle widened, and then all the people who were too lazy to dance +had either to leave the room or stand close against the wall, so as +not to be in the way. Just when the dance had reached its height, and +the men were twirling the girls about as in the mazy evolutions of +the cotillon, Radonic, who had kept aloof, burst into the room. A +moment of confusion ensued, the dancers stopped, the middle of the +room was cleared, the music played again a low dirge. The guilty man +stood alone, abashed; around his neck, tied to a string, he wore the +dagger with which he might have stabbed Vranic had he not throttled +him. + +As soon as he appeared two of the twenty-four arbitrators, who had +been on the look-out for him, rushed and seized him. Then, feigning a +great wrath, they dragged him towards Vranic, as if they had just +captured him and brought him to be tried. + +"Drag that murderer away, cast him out of the house; or, rather, +leave him to me. Let me kill him." + +"Forgive me," exclaimed Radonic. + +"Down upon him!" cried Vranic. + +The arbitrators thereupon made the culprit bow down so low that his +head nearly touched the floor; then all the assembly uttered a deep +sigh, or rather, a wail, craving--in the name of the Almighty and of +good St. John--forgiveness for the guilty man. + +"Forgiveness," echoed Radonic, for the third time. + +The dancers, who had again begun to walk in rhythmic step around the +room, forming a kind of _chassez-croisez_, stopped, and the music +died away in a low moan. + +There was a moment of eager theatrical expectation. The murdered +man's brother seemed undecided as to what he had to do; at last, +after an inward struggle, he yielded to his better feelings, and +going up to Radonic, he took him by the hand, lifted him up and +kissed him on his forehead. + +A sound of satisfaction, like a sigh of relief, passed through the +assembly; but then Vranic said, in a voice which he tried to render +sweet and soft: + +"Listen, all of you. This man, who has hitherto been my bitterest +enemy, has now become my friend; nay, more than my friend, my very +brother, and not to me alone, but to all who were related to my +beloved brother. All shall forego every wish or idea of revenge, now +and hereafter." + +Thereupon, taking a very small silver coin, he cut it in two, gave +Radonic half, and kept the other for himself, as a pledge of the +friendship he had just sworn. + +When peace had been restored, and everybody had drunk to Radonic's +and Vranic's health, then the _Starescina_, or the oldest arbitrator, +whose judgment was paramount, stood up and made a speech, in which he +uttered the decision of the jury and the sentence of the _karvarina_, +that is to say, that, taking into consideration all the extenuating +circumstances under which the murder had been committed, Radonic was +to pay to Vranic the sum of a silver Maria Theresa dollar, the usual +price of a goat. + +"What!" cried the tailor, in a fit of unsuppressed rage; "do you mean +to say that my brother's life was only worth that of a goat?" + +A slight, subdued tittering was heard amongst the crowd; for, indeed, +it was almost ludicrous to see the little man, pale, trembling and +almost green with rage. + +"No," quoth the umpire, gravely; "I never said that your brother's +life was worth that of a whole herd or of a single goat; the price +that we, arbitrators named by you, have condemned Radonic to pay is a +silver dollar. Put yourself in the murderer's place, and tell us what +you would have done." + +Vranic shrugged his shoulders scornfully. + +"We do not appeal to you alone, but to any man of honour, to any Iugo +Slav, to any husband of the Kotar. What would he have done to a man +who, pretending to be his friend, came by stealth, in the middle of +the night, into his home to----" + +"Then," cried Vranic, in that shrill, womanish voice peculiar to all +his family, "it is not my brother that ought to have been killed. Was +he to blame if he was enticed----" + +"What do you mean?" cried Radonic, clasping the haft of the dagger, +which he ought to have given up to Vranic. + +"Silence!" said the umpire: "you forget that you have promised to +love----" + +"If you intend to speak of Milena," said Bellacic, interrupting the +judge, "you must remember that the evening upon which your brother +was killed she was spending the evening----" + +"At your house? No!" said Vranic, with a scornful laugh, shrugging +his shoulders again. + +"Come, come," said one of the jury; "let's settle the _karvarina_." + +"Besides," added another arbitrator, ingenuously, "Radonic has been +put to the expense of more than fifty goats. Until now, no man has +ever----" + +"Oh, I see!" interrupted the tailor, with a withering sneer; "he has +bribed the few friends my poor brother had, so now even those have +turned against him." + +Oaths, curses, threats were uttered by the twenty-four men, and the +younger and more hasty ones instinctively sought the handles of their +daggers. + +"Gentlemen," said Bellacic, "supper is ready; the two men have sworn +to be friends----" + +"I've sworn nothing at all," muttered the tailor, between his teeth. + +"Let us sit down," continued the master of the house, "and try to +forget our present quarrels; we'll surely come to a better +understanding when cakes flowing with honey and sweet wine are +brought on the table." + +They now carried in for the feast several low, stool-like tables, +serving both as boards and dishes. On each one there was a whole +roasted lamb, resting on a bed of rice. Every guest took out his +dagger and carved for himself the piece he liked best or the one he +could easiest reach, and which he gnawed, holding the bone as a +handle, if there was one, or using the flat, pancake-like bread--the +_chupatti_ of the Indians, the flap-jacks of the Turks--as plates. +Soon the wooden _bukaras_ were handed around, and then all ill-humour +was drowned in the heady wine of the rich Dalmatian soil. After the +lambs and rice, big sirloins of beef and huge tunny-fish followed in +succession, then game, and lastly, pastry and fruit. + +After more than two hours of eating and drinking, with interludes of +singing and shouting, the meal at last came to an end. The gentlemen +of the jury, whose brains had been more or less muddled from the day +before, were now, almost without any exception, quite drunk. As for +the guests, some were jovial and boisterous, others tender and +sentimental. Radonic's face was saturnine; Markovic, who was always +loquacious, and who spoke in Italian when drunk, was making a long +speech that had never had a beginning and did not seem to come to an +end; and the worst of it was that, during the whole time, he clasped +tightly one of the _bukaras_, and would not relinquish his hold of +it. + +As for Vranic and his younger brother, they had both sunk down on the +floor sulky and silent. The more they ate and drank, the more +weazened and wretched they looked, and the expression of malice on +their angry faces deepened their wrinkles into a fiendish scowl. + +"I think," said the elder brother, "it is time all this was over, and +that we should be going." + +"Going?" exclaimed all the guests who heard it. "And where do you +want to go?" + +"Oh, if he isn't comfortable, let him go!" said one of the +arbitrators. "I'm sure I don't want to detain him; his face isn't so +pleasant to look at that we should beg him to stay--no, nor his +company either." + +"Oh, I daresay you would like to get rid of me, all of you!" + +"Well, then, shall we wind up this business?" said the judge of the +_karvarina_, putting his hand on Radonic's shoulder. + +"I am quite ready," said he. + +Thereupon he drew forth his leather purse and took out several Maria +Theresa dollars. + +"Shall we make it five instead of one?" he asked, spreading out the +new and shining coins on his broad palm. "Now, tell me, tailor, if I +am niggardly with my money?" he added, handing the sum to Vranic. + +The tailor seized the dollars and clenched his fist; then, with a +scowl: + +"I don't want any of your charity," he hissed out in a shrill treble. +"Five are almost worth six goats, and my brother is worth but one. +Here, take your money back; distribute it among the arbitrators, to +whom you have been so generous. No, _heyduk_, you are not niggardly; +but, then, what are a few dollars to you? a shot of your gun and your +purse is full. Thanks all the same, I only want my due. No robber's +charity for me." And with these words he flung the five dollars in +Radonic's face. + +The sharp edge of one of the coins struck Radonic on the corner of +the eye, just under the brow, and the blood trickled down. All his +drunkenness vanished, his gloomy look took a fierce expression, and +with a bound he was about to seize his antagonist by the throat and +strangle him as he had done his brother; but Vranic, who was on his +guard, lifted up the knife he had received from the murderer a few +hours before, and quick as lightning struck him a blow on his breast. + +"This is my _karvarina_," said he; "tooth for tooth, eye for eye, +blood for blood." + +The blow had been aimed at Radonic's heart, but he parried it and +received a deep gash in the fore-part of his arm. + +A scuffle at once ensued; some of the less drunken men threw +themselves on Vranic, others on Radonic. + +"Sneak, traitor, coward!" shouted the chief arbitrator, striking +Vranic in the face and almost knocking him down; "how dare you do +such a thing after having begged us to settle the _karvarina_ for +you?" + +"And you've settled it nicely, indeed; gorged with his meat, drunk +with his wine, and your purses filled with his money." + +"Liar!" shouted the men of the jury. + +"Out of my house, you scorpion, and never cross its threshold again." + +"I go, and I'm only too glad to be rid of you all;--but as for you," +said Vranic to Bellacic, "had it not been for you, all this would not +have happened." + +"What have I to do with it?" + +"Did you not come to beg me to make it up? But I suppose you were +anxious to have the whole affair hushed up as quickly as possible." + +"Fool!" answered Bellacic. + +"Oh, Milena is not always at your house for nothing!" + +"What did he say?" asked Radonic, trying to break away from the hands +of the men who were holding him, and from Mara Bellacic, who was +bandaging up his wound. + +"What do you care what he said?" replied Bellacic; "his slander only +falls back upon himself, just as if he were spitting in the wind; it +can harm neither you nor Milena." + +"Oh, we shall meet again!" cried Radonic. + +"We shall certainly meet, if ever you escape the Turkish gallows, or +the Austrian prisons." + +And as he uttered these last words, he disappeared in the darkness of +the road. + + + + +CHAPTER XV + +A COWARD'S VENGEANCE + + +When the _pobratim_ returned to Budua they found the whole town +divided into two camps, and, consequently, in a state of open war. +Since the evening of the _karvarina_ two parties had formed +themselves, the Vranites and the Radonites. The first, indeed, were +few, and did not consist of friends of Vranic, but simply of people +who had a grudge, not only against Radonic, but against Bellacic and +the twenty-four men of the jury, who were accused of peculation. On +the whole, public opinion was bitter against the tailor, for, after +having made peace with his enemy, he had tried to murder him; then +--as if this had not been enough--he had gone on the morrow and given +warning to the police that Radonic, who had cowardly murdered his +brother, had returned to Budua, and was walking about the streets +unpunished; moreover, that the _heyduk_ had threatened to murder him, +so he came to appeal for protection. + +This happened when Budua had just been incorporated with the Austrian +empire, and the people, jealous of their customs, looked upon the +protection of the government as an officious intermeddling with their +own private affairs, and strongly resented their being treated as +children unable to act for themselves. + +Although a few crimes had been left unpunished, simply not to rouse +at once the general feeling against its present masters, still the +new jurisdiction was bent upon putting a stop to the practice of the +_karvarina_; and to make this primitive country understand that, +under a civilised form of government, people paid taxes to be +protected by wise and just laws; therefore, it was the duty of a +well-regulated police to discover and punish equitably all offences +done to any particular man. + +In the present case, where notice was brought to the police of facts +that had happened, and aid was requested, steps had to be taken to +secure the person of the offender, and, therefore, to have Radonic +arrested at once for manslaughter. + +Friends, however, came at once to inform Radonic of what had taken +place, advising him to take flight, and put at once the border +mountains of Montenegro between himself and the Austrian police. + +The officials gave themselves and, what was far worse, everybody else +no end of trouble and annoyance with Vranic's case. They went about +arresting wrong persons, as a well-regulated police sometimes does, +and then, after much bother and many cross-examinations, everyone was +set free, and the whole affair dropped. + +Milena, who was slowly recovering from her long illness, was the +first to be summoned to answer about her husband's crime. Bellacic +was after that accused of sheltering the murderer, and threatened +with fines, confiscation, imprisonment and other such penalties; +then he was also set free. The twenty-four men of the jury were next +summoned; but, as they had only acted as peacemakers on behalf of +Vranic, they, too, were reprimanded, and then sent about their +business. + +After this Vranic's partisans dwindled every day, till at last he +found himself shunned by everyone. Even his customers began to +forsake him, and to have their clothes made by a more fortunate +competitor. At last he could not go out in the streets without having +the children scream out after him: + +"Spy! spy! Austrian spy!" + +The clergy belonging to the Orthodox faith looked upon the new law +against the _karvarina_ as an encroachment on their privileges. A +tithe of the price of blood-money always went to the Church; sundry +candles had to be lighted to propitiate, not God or Christ, but some +of the lower deities and mediators of the Christian creed. The law, +which took from them all interference in temporal matters, was a blow +to their authority and to their purses. Even if they were not begged +to act as arbitrators, they were usually invited as guests to the +feast, so that some pickings and perquisites were always to be got. + +Vranic obtained no satisfaction from the police, to whom he had +applied; he was only treated as a cur by the whole population, was +nearly excommunicated by the Church, and looked upon as an apostate +from the saintly customs of the Iugo Slavs. + +Taunted by his own family with having made a muddle of the whole +affair, treated with scornful disdain by friends and foes, the poor +tailor, who had never been very good-tempered, had got to look upon +all mankind as his enemies. + +Thus it happened, one day, that Bellacic was at the coffee-house with +Markovic and some other friends, when Vranic came in to get shaved. + +"What! do you shear poodles and curs?" he asked. + +The loungers began to laugh. Vranic, whose face was being lathered, +ground his teeth and grunted. + +"I say, has he a medal round his neck?" + +"What! do they give a medal to spies?" asked one of the men. + +"No," quoth Bellacic; "but according to their law, no dog is allowed +to go about without a medal, which proves that he has paid his +taxes." + +"Keep quiet," said the barber and _kafedgee_, "or I'll cut you!" + +"Do government dogs also pay taxes?" said another man, smiling. + +"Ask the cur! he'll tell you," replied Bellacic. + +"Mind, Bellacic!" squeaked out Vranic, who was now shaved; "curs have +teeth!" + +"To grind, or to grin with?" + +"By St. George and St. Elias! I'll be revenged on all of you, and you +the very first!" and livid with rage, grinding his teeth, shaking his +fist, Vranic left the coffee-house, followed by the laughter of the +by-standers, and the barking of the boys outside. + +"He means mischief!" quoth the _kafedgee_. + +"When did he not mean mischief," replied Markovic, "or his brother +either?" + +"Don't speak of his brother." + +"Why, he's dead and buried." + +"The less you speak of some dead people, the better," and the +_kafedgee_ crossed himself. + +"He's a sly fox," said one of the men waiting to be shaved. + +"Pooh! foxes are sometimes taken in by an old goose, as the story +tells us." + +Everybody knew the old story, but, as the barber was bent upon +telling it, his customers were obliged to listen. + + +Once upon a time, there was a little silver-grey hen, that got into +such an ungovernable fit of sulks, that she left the pleasant +poultry-yard where she had been born and bred, and escaped on to the +highway by a gap in the hedge. The reason of her ill-humour was that +she had seen her lord and master flirt with a moulting old hatching +hen, and she had felt ruffled at his behaviour. + +"Surely, the only advantage that old hen has over me," she +soliloquised, "is a greater experience of life. If I can but see a +little more of the world, I, too, might be able to discuss +philosophical topics with my husband, instead of cackling noisily +over a new-laid egg. It is an undeniable fact that home-keeping hens +have only homely wits, and cocks are only hen-pecked by hens of +loftier minds than themselves, and not by such common-place females +who think that life has no other aim than that of laying a fresh egg +every day." + +On the other side of the hedge she met a large turkey strutting +gravely about, spreading out his tail, making sundry gurgling noises +in his throat, puffing and swelling himself in an apoplectic way, +until he got of a bluish, livid hue about his eyes, whilst his gills +grew purple. + +Surely, thought the little grey hen, that turkey must be a doctor of +divinity who knows the aim of life; every word that falls from his +beak must be a priceless pearl. + +The little silver-grey hen looked at him with the corner of her eye, +just as coquettish ladies are apt to do when they look at you over +the corners of their fans. + +"I say, Mrs. Henny, whither are you bound, all alone?" said the old +turkey, with his round eyes. + +"I am bent upon seeing a little of the world and improving my mind," +said the little hen. + +"A most laudable intention," said the turkey; "and if you'll permit +me, young madam, I myself will accompany, or rather, escort you in +this journey, tour, or excursion of yours. And if the little +experience I have acquired can be of some slight use to you----" + +"How awfully good of you!" said the gushing little hen. "Why, really, +it would be too delightful!" + +As they went on their way the old turkey at once informed the little +hen that he was a professor of the Dovecot University, and he at once +began to expatiate learnedly about adjectives, compounds, anomalous +verbs, suffixes and prefixes, of objective cases and other such +interesting topics. She listened to him for some time, although she +could not catch the drift of his speech. At last she came to the +conclusion that all this must be transcendental philosophy, so she +repeated mechanically to herself all the grave words he spouted, and +of the whole lecture she just made out a charming little phrase, with +which she thought she would crush her husband some day or other. It +was: "Don't run away with the idea that I'm anomalous enough to be +governed by objective cases, for, after all, what's a husband but a +prefix?" + +"And are you married?" asked the little hen, as soon as the turkey +had stopped to take breath. + +"I am," said the old turkey, with a sigh, "and although I have a +dozen wives, I must say I haven't yet found one sympathetic listener +amongst them." + +"Are they worldly-minded?" asked she. + +"They are frivolous, they think that the aim of life is laying eggs." + +"Pooh!" said the little hen, scornfully. + +As they went along, they met a gander, which looked at them from over +a palisade. + +"I say, where are you two off to?" + +"We are bent upon seeing the world and improving our minds." + +"How delightful. Now tell me, would it be intruding if I joined your +party? I know they say: Two are company, and three are not, still----" + +"They also say: The more the merrier," quoth the little hen. + +The turkey blushed purple, but he managed to keep his temper. + +They went on together, and the gander, who was a great botanist, told +them the name of every plant they came across; and then he spoke very +learnedly with the turkey about Greek roots and Romance particles. + +A little farther on they met a charming little drake with a killing +curled feather in his tail, quite an _accroche-cœur_, and the little +hen ogled him and scratched the earth so prettily with her feet that +at last she attracted the drake's notice. + +After some cackling the little drake joined the tourists, +notwithstanding the gurgling of the turkey and the hissing of the +gander. + +As they went on, they of course spoke of matrimony; the gander +informed them that he was a bachelor, and the little drake added that +he was an apostle of free love, at which the little hen blushed, the +turkey puffed himself up until he nearly burst, and the gander looked +grave. The worst of it was, that the little drake insisted on +discussing his theories and trying to make proselytes. + +They were so intently attending to the little drake's wild theories, +that they hardly perceived a hare standing on his hind legs, with his +ears pricked up, listening to and looking at them. + +The hare, having heard that they were globe-trotters, bent upon +seeing the world and improving their minds, joined their party at +once; they even, later on, took with them a tortoise and a hedgehog. +At nightfall, they arrived in a dense forest, where they found a +large hollow tree, in the trunk of which they all took shelter. + +The little hen ensconced herself in a comfortable corner, and the +drake nestled close by her; the hare lay at her feet, and the gander +and turkey on either side. The tortoise and the hedgehog huddled +themselves up and blocked up the opening, keeping watch lest harm +should befall them. + +They passed the greater part of the night awake, telling each other +stories; and as it was in the dark, the tales they told were such as +could not well be repeated in the broad daylight. + +Soon, however, the laughter was more subdued; the chuckling even +stopped. Sundry other noises instead were heard; then the drowsy +voices of the story-tellers ceased; they had all fallen fast asleep. + +Just then, while the night wind was shivering through the boughs, and +the moon was silvering the boles of the ash-trees, or changing into +diamonds the drops of dew in the buttercups and bluebells, a young +vixen invited a shaggy wolf to come and have supper with her. + +"This," she said, stopping before the hollow tree, "is my larder. You +must take pot-luck, for I'm sure I don't know what there is in it. +Still, it is seldom empty." + +The wolf tried to poke his nose in, but he was stopped by the +tortoise. + +"They have rolled a stone at the door," said the wolf. + +"So they have; but we can cast it aside," quoth the vixen. + +They tried to push the tortoise aside; but he clung to the sides of +the tree with his claws, so that it was impossible to remove him. + +"Let's get over the stone," said the wolf. + +They did their best to get over the tortoise, but they were met by +the hedgehog. + +"They've blocked up the place with brambles and thorns," said the +vixen. + +"So they have," replied the wolf. + +"What's to be done?" asked the one. + +"What's to be done?" replied the other. + +"I hear rascally robbers rummaging around," gurgled the turkey-cock, +in a deep, low tone. + +"Did you hear that?" asked the wolf. + +"Yes," said the vixen, rather uneasy. + +"We'll catch them, we'll catch them," cackled the hen. + +"For we are six, we are six," echoed the drake. + +"There are six of them," said the vixen. + +"And we are only two," retorted the wolf. + +"So they'll catch us," added the vixen. + +"Nice place your larder is," snarled the wolf. + +"I'm afraid the police have got into it," stammered the vixen. + +"Hiss, hiss, hiss!" uttered the gander, from within. + +"That's the scratch of a match," said the vixen. + +"If they see us we are lost," answered the wolf. + +Just then the turkey, who had puffed himself up to his utmost, +exploded with a loud puff. + +"Firearms," whispered the wolf. + +"It's either a mine or a bomb," quoth the vixen. + +"Dynamite," faltered the wolf. + +They did not wait to hear anything else; but, in their terror, they +turned on their heels and scampered off as fast as their legs could +carry them. In a twinkling they were both out of sight. + +The travellers in the hollow tree laughed heartily; then they +returned to their corners and went off to sleep. On the morrow, at +daybreak, they resumed their wanderings, and I daresay they are +travelling still, for it takes a long time to go round the world. + + +A few days afterwards Bellacic went to visit one of his vineyards. +This, of all his land, was his pride and his boast. He had, besides, +spent much money on it, for all the vines had been brought from Asia +Minor, and the grapes were of a quality far superior to those which +grew all around. The present crop was already promising to be a very +fair one. + +On reaching the first vines, Bellacic was surprised to perceive that +all the leaves were limp, withering or dry. The next vines were even +in a worse condition. He walked on, and, to his horror, he perceived +that the whole of his vineyard was seared and blasted, as if warm +summer had all at once changed into cold, bleak, frosty winter. Every +stem had been cut down to the very roots. Gloomy and disconsolate he +walked about, with head bent down, kicking every vine as he went on; +all, all were fit for firewood now. It was not only a heavy loss of +money, it was something worse. All his hopes, his pride, seemed to be +crushed, humbled by it. He had loved this vineyard almost as much as +his wife or his son, and now it was obliterated from the surface of +the earth. + +Had it been the work of Nature or the will of God, he would have +bowed his head humbly, and said: "Thy will be done"; but he was +exasperated to think that this had all been the work of a man--the +vengeance of a coward--a craven-hearted rascal that, after all, he +had never harmed, for this could be only Vranic's doing. In his +passion he felt that if he had held the dastard at that moment, he +would have crushed him under his feet like a reptile. + +As Bellacic slowly arrived at the other end of the vineyard, he felt +that just then he could not retrace his steps and cross the whole of +his withering vines once more. He stopped there for a few moments, +and looked around; then it seemed to him as if he had seen a man +crouch down and disappear behind the bushes. + +Could it be Vranic coming to gloat over him and enjoy his revenge? or +was it not an image of his over-heated imagination? + +He stood stock-still for a while, but nothing moved. He went slowly +on, and then he heard a slight rustling noise. He advanced, crouching +like a cat or a tiger, with fixed, dilated eyes and pricked-up ears. +He saw the bushes move, he heard the sound of footsteps; then he saw +the figure of a man bending low and running almost on all fours, so +as not to be seen. + +It was Vranic; now he could be clearly recognised. Bellacic ran after +him; Vranic ran still faster. All at once he caught his foot on a +root that had shot through the earth; he stumbled and fell down +heavily. As he rose, Bellacic came up to him. + +"Villain, scoundrel, murderer! is it you who----? Yes, it could be no +other dog than you! Moreover, you wanted to see how they looked." + +"What?" said Vranic, ghastly pale, trembling from head to foot. +"What?--I really don't know what you mean." + +"Do you say that you haven't cut down my vines?" + +"_I_ cut your vines? What vines?" + +"Have, at least, the courage of your cowardly deeds, you sneak." + +Thereupon Bellacic gave him a blow which made him reel. Vranic began +to howl, and to take all the saints as witnesses of his innocence. + +"Stop your lies, or I'll pluck that vile tongue of yours out of your +mouth, and cast it in your face!" + +Vranic thereupon took out his knife and tried to stab Bellacic. The +two men fought. + +"Is that the knife with which you cut my vines?" + +"No; I kept it for you," replied Vranic, aiming a deadly blow at his +adversary. + +Bellacic parried the blow, and in the scuffle which ensued Vranic +dropped his knife as his antagonist overpowered him and knocked him +down. + +Although Vranic was struggling with all his might, he was no match +for Bellacic, who pinned him down and managed to pick up the dagger. + +"You have cut down all my vines; now you yourself 'll have a taste of +your own knife." + +"Mercy! mercy! Do not kill me!" + +"No, no; I'll not kill you," said Bellacic, kneeling down upon him; +then, bending over him and catching hold of his right ear, he, with a +quick, firm hand, severed it at a stroke. + +Vranic was howling loud enough to be heard miles off. + +"Now for the other," said Bellacic. "I'll nail them to a post in my +vineyard as a scarecrow for future vermin of your kind." + +Vranic, however, wriggled, and, with an effort, managed to rise; then +he took to his heels, holding his bleeding head and yelling with pain +and fear. + +Bellacic made no attempt to stop him, or cut off his other ear, as he +had threatened to do; he quietly walked away, perfectly satisfied +with the punishment he had inflicted on the scoundrel. Instead of +returning home he thought it more prudent to go and spend the night +in the neighbouring convent, and thus avoid any conflict with the +police. + +Bellacic, who had ever been generous to the monks, was now welcomed +by the brotherhood; the best wine was brought forth and a lay servant +was at once despatched to town to find out what Vranic had done, and, +on the morrow, one of the friars themselves went to reconnoitre and +to inform Mara that her husband was safe and in perfect health. + +Upon that very day the _Spera in Dio_ cast anchor in the harbour of +Budua, and Uros reached home just when the police had come to arrest +his father for having cut off Vranic's ear; and the confusion that +ensued can hardly be described. + +For the sake of doing their duty, the guards, who were Buduans, made +a pretence of looking for Bellacic; they knew very well that he would +not be silly enough to wait till they came to arrest him. + +Mara, like all women in such an emergency, was thoroughly upset to +see the police in her house. She threw her arms round her son, and +begged him to keep quiet, and not to interfere in the matter, lest +their new masters' wrath should be visited upon him. Anyhow, as the +police tried to make themselves as little obnoxious as they possibly +could, and as they went through their duties with as much grace, and +as little zeal, as possible, Uros did not interfere to prevent them +from discharging their unpleasant task. + +The poor mother wept for joy at seeing her son, and for grief at the +thought that her husband was an exile from his house at his time of +life; but just then the good friar came in and brought news from +Bellacic, and comforted the family, saying that in a very few days +the whole affair would be quieted, and their guest would be able to +come back home. + +"And will he remain with you all that time?" asked Mara. + +"We should be very pleased to have him," replied the friar; "but for +his sake and ours, it were better for him to cross the mountain and +remain at Cettinje till the storm has blown over." + +"And when does he start?" + +"This evening." + +"May I come and see him before he goes?" asked Mara. + +"Certainly, and if you wish to go at once, I'll wait here a little +while longer, just not to awaken suspicion." + +Mara, therefore, went off at once, and the friar followed her a +quarter of an hour afterwards. + +Uros, on seeing Milena, felt as if he were suffocating; his heart +began to beat violently, and then it seemed to stop. He, for a +moment, gasped for breath. She, too, only recovering from her +illness, felt faint at seeing him. + +Uros found her looking handsomer and younger than before; her +complexion was so pale, her skin so transparent, that her eyes not +only looked much larger, but bluer and more luminous than ever. To +Uros they seemed rather like the eyes of an angel than those of a +woman. Her fingers were so long and thin; her hand was of a lily +whiteness, as it nestled in Uros' brown, brawny and sunburnt one. + +All her sprightliness was gone; the roguish smile had vanished from +her lips. Not only her features, but her voice had also changed; it +was now so pure, so weak, so silvery in its sound; so veiled withal, +like a voice coming from afar and not from the person sitting by you. +It was as painful to hear as if it had been a voice from beyond the +grave, and it sent a pang to the young man's heart. + +As he put his arm around her frail waist, the tears rose to his eyes, +and he could hardly find the words, or utter them softly enough, to +say to her: "Milena, _srce moja_," (my heart) "do you still love me?" + +"Hush, Uros!" said she, shuddering; "never speak to me of love +again." + +"Milena!" + +"Yes," continued she, sighing, "my sin has found me out. Had I +behaved as I should have done, so many people would not have come to +grief. Vranic might still have been alive." + +"But you never gave him any encouragement, did you?" said Uros, +misunderstanding her meaning. + +The tears started to her eyes. Weak as she was, she felt everything +acutely. + +"Do you think I could have done such a thing? And yet you are right; +I used to be so light once; but that seems to me so long, so very +long ago. But I have grown old since then, terribly old; I have +suffered so much." + +"I was wrong, dearest; forgive me. I remember how that fiend +persecuted you. I was near sending him to hell myself, and it was a +pity I didn't; anyhow, I was so glad when I heard that Radonic +had----" + +"Hush! I was the cause of that man's death. Through it my husband +became an outcast, and now your father has been obliged to flee from +his home----" + +"How can you blame yourself for all these things? It is only because +you have been so ill and weak that you have got such fancies into +your head; but now that I am here, and you know how much I love +you----" + +She shuddered spasmodically, and a look of intense pain and +wretchedness came over her features. + +"Never speak of love any more, unless you wish to kill me." + +Uros looked at her astonished. + +"I know that in all this I am entirely to blame; but if a woman can +atone for her sin by suffering, I think----" + +"Then you do not love me any more?" asked Uros, dejectedly. + +She looked up into his eyes, and, in that deep and earnest glance of +hers, she seemed to give up her soul to him. If months ago she had +loved him with all the levity of a reckless child, now she loved him +with all the pathos of a woman. + +Uros caught her in his arms and pressed her to his heart. She leaned +her head on his shoulder, as if unable to keep it upright; an ashy +paleness spread itself over all her features, her very lips lost all +their colour, her eyelids drooped; she had fainted. Uros, terrified, +thought she was dying, nay, dead. + +"Milena, my love, my angel, speak to me, for Heaven's sake!" he +cried. + +After a few moments, however, she slowly began to recover, and then +burst into a hysteric fit of sobbing. + +When at last she came again to her senses, she begged Uros never to +speak to her of love, as that would be her death. + +"Besides," added she, "now that I am better, I shall return to my +parents, for I can never go back to that dreadful house of mine. I +could never cross its threshold again." + +Uros was dismayed. He had been looking forward to his return with +such joy, and now that he was back, the woman he worshipped was about +to flee from him. + +"Do not look so gloomy," said she, trying to cheer him; "remember +that----" + +Her faltering, weak voice died in her throat; she could not bring +herself to finish her phrase. + +"What?" asked Uros, below his breath. + +"That I'm another man's wife." + +"Oh, Milena! don't say such horrible things; it's almost like +blasphemy." + +"And still it's true; besides----" + +Her voice, which had become steady, broke down again. + +"Besides what?" said Uros, after a moment's pause, leaving her time +to breathe. + +"You'll be a husband yourself, some day," she added in an undertone. + +"Never," burst forth Uros, fiercely, "unless I am your husband." + +"Hush!" said she, shuddering with fear and crossing herself. "Your +father wishes you to marry, and--I wish it too," she added in a +whisper. + +"No, you don't, Milena; that's a lie," he replied, passionately. +"Could you swear it on the holy Cross?" + +"Yes, Uros, if it's for your good, I wish it, too. You know that +I----" + +Her pale face grew of deep red hue; even her hands flushed as the +blood rushed impetuously upwards. + +"Well?" asked Uros, anxiously. + +"That I love you far more than I do myself." + +He clasped her in his arms tenderly, and kissed her shoulders, not +daring to kiss her lips. + +"Would it be right for me to marry a young girl whom I do not love, +when all my soul is yours?" + +"Still," said she, shuddering, "our love is a sin before God and +man." + +"Why did you not tell me so when I first knew you? Then, perhaps, I +might not have loved you." + +Milena's head sank down on her bosom, her eyes filled with tears, +there was a low sound in her throat. Then, in a voice choking with +sobs, she said: + +"You are right, Uros; I was to blame, very much to blame. I was as +thoughtless as a child; in fact, I was a child, and I only wanted to +be amused. But since then I have grown so old. Lying ill in bed, +almost dying, I was obliged to think of all the foolish things I said +and did, so----" + +"So you do not love me any more," he said, abruptly; but seeing the +look of sorrow which shadowed Milena's face, he added: "My heart, +forgive me; it is only my love for you that makes me so peevish. When +you ask me to forget you----" + +"And still you must try and do so. The young girl your father has +chosen for you----" + +"Loves some one else," interrupted Uros. + +Milena looked up with an expression of joy she vainly tried to +control. The young man thereupon told her the mistake which had taken +place, and all that had happened the last time he and his friend had +been at Zara. + +"Giulianic has taken a solemn oath that I shall never marry his +daughter, and as Milenko is in love with her, I hope my father will +release his friend from the promise----" + +Just then the door opened, and Mara came in. + +"Well, mother," said Uros, "what news do you bring to us?" + +"Your father is safe, my boy. He left this morning for Montenegro; by +this time he must have crossed the border. On the whole, the police +tried to look for him where they knew they could not find him. He +left word that he wishes to see you very much, and begs you to go up +to Cettinje as soon as you can." + +"I'll go and see Milenko, so that he may take sole charge of the +ship, and then I'll start this very evening." + +"No, child, there is no such hurry! Rest to-night; you can leave +to-morrow, or the day after." + +Having seen Milenko, and entrusted the ship for a few days entirely +to him, Uros started early on the next morning for the black +mountains. + +Mara could hardly tear herself away from him. She had been waiting so +eagerly for his arrival, and now, when he had come home, she was +obliged to part from him. + +"Do not stay there too long, for then you will only return to start, +and I'll have scarcely seen you." + +"No, I'll only stay there one or two days, no more." + +"And then I hope you'll not mix up in any quarrel. I'm so sorry +you've come back just now." + +"Come, mother," said Uros, smiling pleasantly as he stood on the +doorstep before starting, "what harm can befall me? I haven't mixed +up in any of the _karvarina_ business, nor am I running away as an +outlaw; if we have some enemies they are all here, not there. I +suppose I'll find father at Zwillievic's or some other friend's +house. Your fears are quite unfounded, are they not?" + +All Uros said was quite true, but still his mother refused to be +comforted. As he bade Milena good-bye, "Remember!" she whispered to +him, and she slipped back into her room. + +Did she wish him to remember that she was Radonic's wife? + +Uros thereupon started with a heavy heart; everybody seemed to have +changed since he had left Budua. + +The early morning was grey and cloudy, and although Uros was very +fond of his father, and anxious to see him, still he was loth to +leave his home. + +At the town gate Uros met Milenko, who had come to walk part of the +way with him. Uros, who was thinking of his mother and especially of +Milena, had quite forgotten his bosom friend. Seeing him so +unexpectedly, his heart expanded with a sudden movement of joy, and +he felt at that moment as if they had met after having been parted +for ages. + +"Well?" asked Milenko, as they walked along. "Do you remember when we +first started from Budua, we thought that we'd have reached the +height of happiness the day we'd sail on our own ship?" + +"I remember." + +"The ship is almost our own, and happiness is farther off than ever." + +"Wait till we come back next voyage, and things might look quite +different then." + +The sun just then began to dawn; the dark and frowning mountains lost +all their grimness as a pale golden halo lighted up their tops; +drowsy nature seemed to awake with a smile, and looked like a rosy +infant does when, on opening its eyes, it sees its mother's beaming +face. + +The two friends walked on. Uros spoke of the woman he loved, and +Milenko listened with a lover's sympathy. + +Milenko walked with his friend for about two hours; then he bade Uros +good-bye, promising him to go at once to his mother and Milena, and +tell them how he was faring. + +Uros began to climb up the rugged path leading towards Montenegro. +After a quarter of an hour, the two friends stopped, shouted "Ahoy!" +to each other, waved their hands and then resumed their walk. Towards +nightfall Uros reached the village where Zwillievic lived. + +With a beating heart, sore feet and aching calves he trudged on +towards the house, which, as he hoped, was to be the goal of his +journey. As he pushed the door open he shuddered, thinking that +instead of his father he might happen to find Milena's husband. + +The apartment into which he entered was a large and rather low room, +serving as a kitchen, a parlour, a dining and a sleeping room. It +was, in fact, the only room of the house. Its walls were cleanly +whitewashed; not a speck of dust could be seen anywhere, nor a cobweb +amidst the rafters in the ceiling. The inner part was used for +sleeping purposes, for against the walls on either side there were +two huge beds. By the beds, two boxes--one of plain deal, like the +chests used by sailors; the other, made of cypress-wood and quaintly +carved--contained the family linen. In the middle of the room stood a +rough, massive table, darkened and polished by daily use, and some +three-legged stools around it. The walls were decorated with the real +wealth of the family--weapons of every shape, age and kind. Short +guns, the butt ends of which were all inlaid with mother-of-pearl; +long carbines with silver incrustations; modern rifles and +fowling-pieces; swords, scimitars, daggers, yatagans; pistols and +blunderbusses with niello and filigree silver-work, gemmed like +jewels or church ornaments. These trophies were heirlooms of +centuries. Over one of the beds there was a silver- and gold-plated +Byzantine icon, over the other a hideous German print of St. George. +The Prince of Cappadocia, who was killing a grass-green dragon, wore +for the occasion a yellow mantle, a red doublet and blue tights. +Under each of these images there was a fount of holy water and a +little oil-lamp. + +As Uros stepped in, Milena's mother, who was standing by the hearth, +preparing the supper, turned round to see who had just come in. She +looked at him, but as he evidently was a stranger to her, she came up +a step or two towards him. + +"Good evening, _domacica_," for she was not only the lady of the +house, but the wife of the head of the family and the chief of the +clan, or tribe. + +"Good evening, _gospod_," said she, hesitatingly. + +"You do not know me, I think. I am a kind of cousin of yours, Uros +Bellacic." + +"What, is it you, my boy? I might have known you by your likeness to +your mother; but when I saw you last you were only a little child, +and now you are quite a grown-up man," added she, looking at him with +motherly fondness. "Have you walked all the way from Budua?" + +"Yes, I left home this morning." + +"Then you must be tired. Come and sit down, my boy." + +"I am rather tired; you see, we sailors are not accustomed to walk +much. But tell me first, have you seen my father? Is he staying with +you?" + +"Yes, he came yesterday. He is out just now, but he'll soon be back +with Zwillievic. Sit down and rest," said she, "and let me give you +some water to wash, for you must be travel-sore and dusty." + +As Uros sat down, she, after the Eastern fashion, bent to unlace his +_opanke_; but he, unaccustomed to be waited upon by women, would not +allow her to perform such a menial act for him. + +He had hardly finished his ablutions when his father and the +_gospodar_ came in. Seeing his son, Bellacic stretched out his arms +and clasped him to his heart. Then they began talking about all that +had taken place since they had seen each other; and, supper being +served, Uros, while he ate with a good appetite, related all the +adventures of his seafaring life, and did his best to keep his father +amused. At the end of the meal, when everyone was in a good-humour, +the pipes being lit and the _raki_ brought forth, he told them how +Milenko had fallen in love with the girl who ought to have been his +bride, how she reciprocated his affection, and the many complications +that followed, until Giulianic swore, in great wrath, that he, Uros, +should never marry his daughter. Although this part of the story did +not amuse the father as much as it did the rest of the company, still +it was related with such graphic humour that he could not help +joining in the laughter. + +On the morrow, Bellacic, wanting to have a quiet talk with his son, +proposed that they should go and see a little of the country, and, +perhaps, meet Radonic, who was said to be coming back from the +neighbourhood of Scutari. + +As they walked on, Bellacic spoke of his lost vineyard, and of his +rashness in cutting off Vranic's ear; then he added: + +"Remember, now that you are going back to Budua, you must promise me +that, as long as you are there, you'll not mix up in this stupid +_karvarina_ business. I know that I am asking much, for if we old men +are hasty, recommending you who are young and hot-headed to be cool +is like asking the fire not to burn, or the sun not to shine; still, +for your mother's sake and for mine, you'll keep aloof from those +reptiles of Vranics, will you not?" + +Uros promised to do his best and obey. + +"I'd have liked to see you married and settled in life," and Bellacic +cast a questioning glance at his son. + +Uros looked down and twisted the ends of his short and crisp +moustache. + +"It is true you are very young still; it is we--your mother and I +--who are getting old." + +Uros continued to walk in silence by his father's side. + +"If Ivanka is in love with your friend, and Giulianic is willing to +give her to him, I am not the man to make any objections. The only +thing I'd like to know is whether it is solely for Milenko's sake +that you acted as you did." + +Uros tried to speak, but the words he would utter stuck in his +throat. + +"Then it is as I thought," added Bellacic, seeing his son's +confusion; "you love some one else." + +Uros looked up at his father for all reply. + +"Answer me," said Bellacic, tenderly. + +"Yes," said the young man, in a whisper. + +"A young girl?" + +"No." + +"A married woman?" asked the father, lifting his brows with a look of +pain in his eyes. + +"Yes." + +"A relation of ours?" + +"Yes." + +"Milena?" + +Uros nodded. + +Just then, as they turned the corner of the road, they met a crowd of +men coming towards them; it was a band of blood-stained Montenegrins +returning from an encounter with the Turks. They were bearing a +wounded man upon a stretcher. + +"Milena would have been the girl your mother and I might have chosen +for your bride; and, indeed, we have learnt to love her as a +daughter; but fate has decreed otherwise." + +They now came up to the foremost man of the band. + +"Who is wounded?" asked Bellacic of him. + +"Radonic," answered he. + +"Is the wound a bad one?" + +"He is dying!" replied the Montenegrin, in a whisper. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +THE VAMPIRE + + +Vranic, having found out that the Austrian law could do nothing for +him, except punish him for his crime in cutting down the vines of a +man who had done him no harm, shut himself up at home to nurse his +wounded head, to brood over his revenge, and pity himself for all the +mishaps that had befallen him. The more he pitied himself, the more +irritable he grew, and the more he considered himself a poor +persecuted wretch. He durst not go out for fear of being laughed at; +and, in fact, when he did go, the children in the streets began to +call him names, to ask him what he had done with his ears, and +whether he liked cutting people's vines down. + +With his bickering and peevish temper, not only his fast friends grew +weary of him, but his own family forsook him; his very brother, at +last, could not abide his saturnine humour, and left him. He then +began to drink to try and drown his troubles; still, he only took +enough to muddle his brains, and, moreover, the greater quantity of +spirits he consumed the more sullen he grew. + +Having but one idea in his head--that is, the great wrong that had +been done to him--he hardly fell asleep at nights but he was at once +haunted by fearful dreams. His murdered brother would at once appear +before him and ask him--urge him--to avenge his death: + +"While you are enjoying the inheritance I left you, I am groaning in +hell-fire, and my murderer is not only left free, but he is even +made much of." + +Masses were said for the dead man's soul, still that was of no avail; +Vranic's dreams got always more frightful. The _morina_, the dreadful +_mara_ or nightmare, took up its dwelling in the tailor's house. No +sooner did the poor man close his eyes than the ponderous ghost came +hovering over him, and at last crushed him with its weight. The sign +of the pentacle was drawn on every door and window. A witch drew it +for him on paper with magical ink, and he placed the paper under his +pillow. He put another on the sheets; then the nightmare left him +alone, and other evil spirits came in its stead. Not knowing the +names of these evil spirits or their nature, it was a difficult task +to find out the planet under which they were subjected, the sign +which they obeyed, and what charm was potent enough to scare them +away. + +One night (it was about the hour when his brother had been murdered) +the tailor was lying on his bed in a half-wakeful slumber--that is to +say, his drowsy body was benumbed, but his mind was still quite +awake, when all at once he was roused by the noise of a loud wind +blowing within the house. Outside, everything was perfectly quiet, +but inside a distant door seemed to have been opened down in some +cellar, and a draught was blowing up with a moaning, booming sound. +You might have fancied that a grave had been opened and a ghastly +gale was blowing from the hollow depths of hell below, and that it +came wheezing up. It was dreadful to hear, for it had such a dismal +sound. + +Perhaps it was only his imagination, but Vranic thought that this +mysterious draught was cold, damp and chilly; that it had an earthy, +rank smell of mildew as it blew by him. + +He lay there shivering, hardly daring to breathe, putting his tongue +between his chattering teeth not to make a noise, and listening to +that strange, weird blast as at last it died far away in a faint, +imperceptible sigh. + +No sooner had the sound of the wind entirely subsided than he heard a +cadenced noise of footsteps coming from afar. Were these steps out of +the house or inside? he could not tell. He heard them draw nearer and +ever nearer; they seemed to come across the wall of the room, as if +bricks and stones were no obstacle to his uncanny visitor; now they +were in his room, walking up to his bed. Appalled with terror, Vranic +looked towards the place from where the footsteps came, but he could +not see anybody. Trembling as if with a fit of palsy, he cast a +fearful, furtive glance all around, even in the furthermost corner of +the room; not the shadow of a ghost was to be seen; nevertheless, the +footsteps of the invisible person grew louder as they approached at a +slow, sure, inexorable pace. + +At last they stopped; they were by his bed. Vranic felt the breath of +a person on his very face. + +Except a person who has felt it, no one can realise the horror of +having an invisible being leaning over you, of feeling his breath on +your face. + +Vranic tried to rise, but he at once came in close contact with the +unseen monster; two cold, clammy, boneless hands gripped him and +pinned him down; he vainly struggled to get free, but he was as a +baby in the hands of his invisible foe. In a few seconds he was +entirely mastered, cowed down, overcome, panting, breathless. When he +tried to scream, a limp, nerveless hand, as soft as a huge toad, was +placed upon his mouth, shutting it up entirely, and impeding all +power of utterance. Then the ponderous mass of the ghost came upon +him, crushed him, smothered him. Fainting with fear, his strength and +his senses forsook him at the same time, and he swooned away. + +When he came back to life, the cold, grey light of the dawning day, +pouring in through the half-closed shutters, gave the room a squalid, +lurid look. His head was not exactly paining him, but it felt drained +of all its contents, and as light as an empty skull, or an old poppy +head in which the seeds are rattling. He looked around. There was +nothing unusual in the room; everything was just as it had been upon +the previous evening. Had his struggle with the ghost been but a +dream? He tried to move, to rise, but all his limbs were as weary and +sore as if he had really fought and been beaten. Nay, his whole body +was as weak as if he had had some long illness and was only now +convalescent. He recalled to mind all the details of the struggle, he +looked at the places where he felt numb and sore, and everywhere he +remarked livid stains which he had not seen before. He lifted himself +up on his right elbow; to his horror and consternation, there were +two or three spots of blood upon the white sheet. + +He felt faint and sick at that sight; he understood everything. His +had not been a dream; his gruesome visitor was a frightful ghost, a +terrible _vukodlaki_, which had fought with him and sucked his blood. +His brother had become a loathsome vampire; he was the first victim. + +For a moment he remained bewildered, unable to think; then when he +did manage to collect his wandering senses, the terrible reality of +his misfortune almost drove him mad again. + +The ghost, having tasted his blood, would not leave him till it had +drained him to the very last drop. He was a lost man; no medical aid +could be of any use; nourishing food, wine and tonics might prolong +his agony a few days longer and no more. He was doomed to a sure +death. Daily--as if in a decline--he saw himself wasting away, for +the vampire would suck the very marrow of his bones. + +His was a dreary life, indeed, and yet he clung to it with might and +main. The days passed on wearily, and he tried to hope against hope +itself; but he was so weak and dispirited that the slightest noise +made him shiver and grow pale. An unexpected footstep, the opening or +shutting of a door, slackened or accelerated the beating of his +heart. + +With fear and trembling he waited for night to come on, and when the +sun went down--when darkness came over the earth--his terror grew +apace. Still, where was he to go? He had not a single friend on the +surface of the earth. He, therefore, drank several glasses of +spirits, muttered his prayers and went to bed. No sooner had he +fallen asleep than he fell again a prey to the vampire. + +On the third night he determined not to go to bed, but to remain +awake, and thus wait for the arrival of his gruesome guest. Still, at +the last moment his courage failed him, so he went to an old man who +lived hard by. He promised to make him a new waistcoat if he would +only give him a rug to sleep on, and tell him a story until he got +drowsy. + +The old man complied willingly, above all as Vranic had brought a +_bukara_ of wine with him, so he at once began the story of + + +THE PRIEST AND HIS COOK. + +In the village of Steino there lived an old priest who was +exceedingly wealthy, but who was, withal, as miserly as he was rich. +Although he had fields which stretched farther than the eye could +reach, fat pastures, herds and flocks; although his cellars were +filled with mellow wine, his barns were bursting with the grace of +God; although abundance reigned in his house, still he was never +known to have given a crust of bread to a beggar or a glass of wine +to a weary old man. + +He lived all alone with a skinflint of an old cook, as stingy as +himself, who would rather by far have seen an apple rot than give it +to a hungry child whose mouth watered for it. + +Those two grim old fogeys, birds of one feather, cared for no one +else in this world except for each other, and, in fact, the people in +Steino said----, but people in villages have bad tongues, so it's +useless to repeat what was said about them. + +The priest had a nephew, a smith, a good-hearted, bright-eyed, burly +kind of a fellow, beloved by all the village, except by his uncle, +whom he had greatly displeased because he had married a bonny lass of +the neighbouring village of Smarje, instead of taking as a wife +the----, well, the cook's niece, though, between us and the wall, the +cook was never known to have had a sister or a brother either, and +the people----, but, as I said before, the people were apt to say +nasty things about their priest. + +The smith, who was quite a pauper, had several children, for the +poorer a man is the more babies his wife presents him with--women +everywhere are such unreasonable creatures--and whenever he applied +to his uncle for a trifle, the uncle would spout the Scriptures in +Latin, saying something about the unfitness of casting pearls before +pigs, and that he would rather see him hanged than help him. + +Once--it was in the middle of winter--the poor smith had been without +any work for days and days. He had spent his last penny; then the +baker would not give him any more bread on credit, and at last, on a +cold, frosty night, the poor children had been obliged to go to bed +supperless. + +The smith, who had sworn a few days before never again to put his +foot in the priest's house, was, in his despair, obliged to humble +himself, and go and beg for a loaf of bread, with which to satisfy +his children on the morrow. + +Before he knocked at the door, he went and peeped in through the +half-closed shutters, and he saw his uncle and the cook seated by a +roaring fire, with their feet on the fender, munching roasted +chestnuts and drinking mulled wine. Their shining lips still seemed +greasy from the fat sausages they had eaten for supper, and, as he +sniffed at the window, he fancied the air was redolent with the +spices of black-pudding. The smell made his mouth water and his +hungry stomach rumble. + +The poor man knocked at the door with a trembling hand; his legs +began to quake, he had not eaten the whole of that long day; but then +he thought of his hungry children, and knocked with a steadier hand. + +The priest, hearing the knock, thought it must be some pious +parishioner bringing him a fat pullet or perhaps a sleek sucking-pig, +the price of a mass to be said on the morrow; but when, instead, he +saw his nephew, looking as mean and as sheepish as people usually do +when they go a-begging, he was greatly disappointed. + +"What do you want, bothering here at this time of the night?" asked +the old priest, gruffly. + +"Uncle," said the poor man, dejectedly. + +"I suppose you've been drinking, as usual; you stink of spirits." + +"Spirits, in sooth! when I haven't a penny to bless me." + +"Oh, if it's only a blessing you want, here, take one and go!" + +And the priest lifted up his thumb and the two fingers, and uttered +something like "_Dominus vobiscum,_" and then waved him off; whilst +the old shrew skulking near him uttered a croaking kind of laugh, and +said that a priest's blessing was a priceless boon. + +"Yes," replied the smith, "upon a full stomach; but my children have +gone to bed supperless, and I haven't had a crust of bread the whole +of the day." + +"'Man shall not live by bread alone,' the Scriptures say, and you +ought to know that if you are a Christian, sir." + +"Eh? I daresay the Scriptures are right, for priests surely do not +live on bread alone; they fatten on plump pullets and crisp +pork-pies." + +"Do you mean to bully me, you unbelieving beggar?" + +"Bully you, uncle!" said the burly man, in a piteous tone; "only +think of my starving children." + +"He begrudges his uncle the grub he eats," shrieked the old cat of a +cook. + +"I'd have given you something, but the proud man should be punished," +said the wrathful priest, growing purple in the face. + +"Oh, uncle, my children!" sobbed the poor man. + +"What business has a man to have a brood of brats when he can't earn +enough to buy bread for them?" said the cook, aloud, to herself. + +"Will you hold your tongue, you cantankerous old cat?" said the smith +to the cook. + +The old vixen began to howl, and the priest, in his anger, cursed his +nephew, telling him that he and his children could starve for all he +cared. + +The smith thereupon went home, looking as piteous as a tailless +turkey-cock; and while his children slept and, perhaps, dreamt of +_kolaci_, he told his wife the failure he had met with. + +"Your uncle is a brute," said she. + +"He's a priest, and all priests are brutes, you know." + +"Well, I don't know about all of them, for I heard my +great-grandmother say that once upon a time there lived----" + +"Oh, there are casual exceptions to every rule!" said her husband. +"But, now, what's to be done?" + +"Listen," said the wife, who was a shrewd kind of woman; "we can't +let the children starve, can we?" + +"No, indeed!" + +"Then follow my advice. I know of a grass that, given to a horse, or +an ox, or a sheep, or a goat, makes the animal fall down, looking as +if it were dead." + +"Well, but you don't mean to feed the children with this grass, do +you?" said the smith, not seeing the drift of what she meant. + +"No; but you could secretly go and give some to your uncle's fattest +ox." + +"So," said the husband, scratching his head. + +"Once the animal falls down dead, he'll surely give it to you, as no +butcher 'll buy it; we'll kill it and thus be provided with meat for +a long time. Besides, you can sell the bones, the horns, the hide, +and get a little money besides." + +"And for to-morrow?" + +"I'll manage to borrow a few potatoes and a cup of milk." + +On the next day the wife went and got the grass, and the smith, +unseen, managed to go and give it to his uncle's fattest ox. A few +hours afterwards the animal was found dead. + +On hearing that his finest ox was found in the stable lying stiff and +stark the priest nearly had a fit; and his grief was still greater +when he found out that not a man in the village would offer him a +penny for it, so when his nephew came he was glad enough to give it +to him to get rid of it. + +The cook, who had prompted the priest to make a present of the ox to +his nephew, hoped that the smith and all his family would be poisoned +by feeding on carrion flesh. + +"But," said the uncle, "bring me back the bones, the horns, and the +hide." + +To everyone's surprise, and to the old cook's rage, the smith and his +children fed on the flesh of the dead ox, and throve on it. After the +ox had all been eaten up, the priest lost a goat, and then a goose, +in the same way, and the smith and his family ate them up with +evident gusto. + +After that, the old cook began to suspect foul play on the part of +the smith, and she spoke of her suspicions to her master. + +The priest got into a great rage, and wanted to go at once to the +police and accuse his nephew of sorcery. + +"No," said the cook, "we must catch them on the hip, and then we can +act." + +"But how are we to find them out?" + +After brooding over the matter for some days, the cook bethought +herself that the best plan would be to shut herself up in a cupboard, +and have it taken to the nephew's house. + +The priest, having approved of her plan, put it at once into +execution. + +"I have," said the uncle to the nephew, "an old cupboard which needs +repairing; will you take it into your house and keep it for a few +days?" + +"Willingly," said the nephew, who had not the slightest suspicion of +the trap laid to catch him. + +The cupboard was brought, and put in the only room the smith +possessed; the children looked at it with wonder, for they had never +seen such a big piece of furniture before. The wife had some +suspicion. Still, she kept her own counsel. + +Soon afterwards the remains of the goose were brought on the table, +and, as the children licked the bones, the husband and wife discussed +what meat they were to have for the forthcoming days--was it to be +pork, veal, or turkey? + +As they were engrossed with this interesting topic, a slight, shrill +sound came out of the cupboard. + +"What's that?" said the wife, whose ears were on the alert. + +"I didn't hear anything," said the smith. + +"_Apshee_," was the sound that came again from the cupboard. + +"There, did you hear?" asked the wife. + +"Yes; but from where did that unearthly sound come?" + +The wife, without speaking, winked at her husband and pointed to the +cupboard. + +"_Papshee_," was now heard louder than ever. + +The children stopped gnawing the goose's bones; they opened their +greasy mouths and their eyes to the utmost and looked scared. + +"There's some one shut in the cupboard," said the smith, jumping up, +and snatching up his tools. + +A moment afterwards the door flew open, and to everyone's surprise, +except the wife's, the old cook was found standing bolt upright in +the empty space and listening to what they were saying. + +The old woman, finding herself discovered, was about to scream, but +the smith caught her by the throat and gave her such a powerful +squeeze, that before knowing what he was doing, he had choked the +cook to death. + +The poor man was in despair, for he had never meant to commit a +murder--he only wanted to prevent the old shrew from screaming. + +"_Bog me ovari!_ what is to become of me now?" + +"Pooh!" said the wife, shrugging her shoulders; "she deserves her +fate; as we make our bed, so must we lie." + +"Yes," quoth the smith, "but if they find out that I've strangled +her, they'll hang me." + +"And who'll find you out?" said she. "Let's put a potato in her mouth +and lock up the cupboard again; they'll think that she choked herself +eating potatoes." + +The smith followed his wife's advice, and early on the morrow the +priest came again and asked for his press. + +"Talking the matter over with the cook," said he, "I've decided not +to have my cupboard repaired, so I've come to take it back." + +"Your cook is right," said the smith's wife; "she's a wise old woman, +your cook is." + +"Very," said the priest, uncomfortably. + +"There's more in her head than you suppose," said the wife, thinking +of the potato. + +"There is," said the priest. + +"Give my kind respects to your cook," said the wife as the men were +taking the cupboard away. + +"Thank you," said the priest, "I'll certainly do so." + +About an hour afterwards the priest came back, ghastly pale, to his +nephew, and taking him aside said: + +"My dear nephew--my only kith-and-kin--a great misfortune has +befallen me." + +"What is it, uncle?" asked the smith. + +"My cook," said the priest, lowering his voice, "has--eating +potatoes--somehow or other--I don't know how--choked herself." + +"Oh!" quoth the smith, turning pale, "it is a great misfortune; but +you'll say masses for her soul and have her properly buried." + +"But the fact is," interrupted the priest, "she looks so dreadful, +with her eyes starting out of their sockets, and her mouth wide open, +that I'm quite frightened of her, and besides, if the people see her +they'll say that I murdered her." + +"Well, and how am I to help you?" + +"Come and take her away, in a sack if you like; then bury her in some +hole, or throw her down a well. Do whatever you like, as long as I am +rid of her." + +The smith scratched his head. + +"You must help me; you are my only relation. You know that whatever I +have 'll go to you some day, so----" + +"And when people ask what has become of her?" + +"I'll say she's gone to her--her niece." + +"Well, I don't mind helping you, as long as I don't get into a scrape +myself." + +"No, no! How can you get into trouble?" + +The priest went off, and soon afterwards the smith went to his +uncle's house, and taking a big sack, shoved the cook into it and +tied the sack up, put it on his shoulders and trudged off. + +"Here," said the uncle, "take this florin to get a glass of wine on +the way, and I hope I'll never see her any more--nor," he added to +himself--"you either." + +It was a warm day, and the cook was heavy. The poor man was in a +great perspiration; his throat was parched; the road was dusty and +hilly. After an hour's march he stopped at a roadside inn to drink a +glass of wine. He quaffed it down at a gulp and then he had another, +and again another, so that when he came out everything was rather +hazy and blurred. Seeing some carts of hay at the door which were +going to the next town, he asked permission to get on top of one of +the waggons. The permission was not only granted, but the carter even +helped him to hoist his sack on top. The smith, in return, got down +and offered the man a glass of wine for his kindness. Then he again +got on the cart and went off to sleep. An hour or two afterwards, +when he awoke, the sack was gone. Had it slipped down? had it been +stolen from him?--he could not tell. He did not ask for it, but he +only congratulated himself at having so dexterously got rid of the +cook, and at once went back home. + +That evening his children had hardly been put to bed when the door +was opened, and his uncle, looking pale and scared, came in panting. + +"She's back, she's back!" he gasped. + +"Who is back?" asked the astonished smith. + +"Why, she, the cook." + +"Alive?" gasped the smith. + +"No, dead in the sack." + +"Then how the deuce did she get back?" + +"How? I ask you how?" + +"I really don't know how. I dug a hole ten feet deep, half filled the +hole with lime, then the other half with stones and earth, and I +planted a tree within the hole, and covered the earth all around with +sods. It gave me two days' work. I'll take and show you the place if +you like." + +The priest looked at his nephew, bewildered. + +"But, tell me," continued the smith, "how did she come back?" + +"Well, they brought me a waggon of hay, and on the waggon there was a +sack, which I thought must contain potatoes or turnips which some +parishioner sent me, so I had the sack put in the kitchen. When the +men had gone I undid the sack, and to my horror out pops the cook's +ugly head, staring at me with her jutting goggle-eyes and her gaping +mouth, looking like a horrid jack-in-the-box. Do come and take her +away, or she'll drive me out of my senses; but come at once." + +The smith went back to the priest's house, tied the cook in the sack, +and then putting the sack on his shoulders, he carried his load away. +He had made up his mind to go and chuck her down one of those almost +bottomless shafts which abound in the stony plains of the Karst. + +He walked all night; at daybreak he saw a man sleeping on the grass +by the highway, having near him a sack exactly like the one he was +carrying. + +"What a good joke it'll be," thought he, "to take that sack and put +mine in its stead." + +He at once stepped lightly on the grass, put down the cook, took up +the other sack, which was much lighter than his own, and scampered +back home as fast as his weary legs could carry him. + +An hour afterwards the sleeping man awoke, took up his sack, which he +was surprised to find so much heavier than it had been when he had +gone off to sleep, and then went on his way. + +That evening the priest came back to his nephew's house, looking +uglier and more ghastly, if possible, than the evening before. +Panting and gasping, with a weak and broken voice: + +"She's back again," he said in a hoarse whisper. + +The smith burst out laughing. + +"It's no laughing matter," quoth the priest, with a long face. + +"No, indeed, it isn't," replied the nephew; "only, tell me how she +came back." + +"A pedlar, an honest man whom I sometimes help by lending him a +trifle on his goods--merely out of charity--brought me a sack of +shoes, begging me to keep it for him till he found a stall for +to-morrow's fair. I told him to put the sack in the kitchen, and he +did so. When he had gone, I thought I'd just see what kind of shoes +he had for sale, and whether he had a pair that fitted me. I opened +the sack, and I almost fainted when I saw the frightful face of the +cook staring at me." + +"And now," asked the smith, "am I to carry her away again, for you +know, uncle, she is rather heavy; and besides----" + +"No," replied the priest; "I'll go away myself for a few days; during +that time drown her, burn or bury her; in fact, do what you like with +her, as long as you get rid of her. Perhaps, knowing I'm not at home, +she'll not come back. In the meanwhile, as you are my only relation, +come and live in my house and take care of my things as if they were +your own; and they'll be yours soon enough, for this affair has made +an old man of me." + +The priest went home, followed by his nephew. Arriving there, he went +to the stable, saddled the mare, got on her, gave his nephew his +blessing, bade him take care of his house, and trotted off. No sooner +had he gone than the smith saddled the stallion, then went and took +the cook out of the sack, tied her on the stallion's saddle, then let +the horse loose to follow the mare. + +The poor priest had not gone a mile before he heard a horse galloping +behind him, and, fearing that it was the police coming to bring him +back, he spurred the mare and galloped on; but the faster he rode, +the quicker the stallion galloped after him. + +Looking round, the priest, to his horror and dismay, saw his cook, +with her eyes starting wildly out of their sockets, and her horrid +mouth gaping as black as the hole of hell, chasing him, nay, she was +only a few yards behind. + +The terrified priest spurred on the mare, which began to gallop along +the highway; but withal she flew like an arrow, the stallion was +gaining ground at every step. The priest, fainting with fear, lost +all his presence of mind; he then spurred the mare across country. +The poor animal reared at first, and then began to gallop over the +stony plain; no obstacles could stop her, she jumped over bushes and +briars, stumbling almost at every step. + +The priest, palsied with terror, as ghastly pale as a ghost, could +not help turning round; alas! the cook was always at his heels. His +fear was such that he almost dropped from his horse. He lashed the +poor mare, forgetful of all the dangers the plains of the Karst +presented, for the ground yawned everywhere--here in huge, deep +clefts, there in bottomless shafts; or it sank in cup-like hollows, +all bordered with sharp, jagged rocks, or concealed in the bushes +that surround them. His only thought was to escape from the grim +spectre that pursued him. The lame and bleeding mare had stopped on +the brink of one of these precipices, trembling and convulsed with +terror. The priest, who had just turned round, dug his spurs into the +animal's sides; she tried to clear the cleft, but missed her footing, +and rolled down in the abyss. The stallion, seeing the mare +disappear, stopped short, and uttered a loud neigh, shivering with +fear. The shock the poor beast had got burst the bonds which held the +corpse on his back, and the cook was thus chucked over his head on +the prone edge of the pit. + +A few days afterwards some peasants who happened to pass by found the +cook sitting, stiff and stark, astride on a rock, seemingly staring, +with eyes starting from their sockets and her black mouth gaping +widely, at the mangled remains of her master's corpse. + +As the priest had told the clerk that he was going away for a few +days, everybody came to the conclusion that his cook, having followed +him against his will, had frightened the mare and thus caused her own +and her master's death. + +The smith having been left in possession of his uncle's house, as +well as of all his money and estates, and being, moreover, the only +legal heir, thus found himself all at once the richest man in the +village. As he was beloved by everybody, all rejoiced at his good +luck, especially all those who owed money to the priest and whose +debts he cancelled. + + +"You liked this story?" said the old man to Vranic, as soon as he had +finished. + +"Yes," replied the tailor, thinking of the ghastly, livid corpse, +with grinning, gaping mouth, and glassy, goggle eyes, galloping after +the priest, and wondering whether she was like the vampire. "Yes, +it's an interesting story, but rather gruesome." + +"Well, but it's only a story, and, whether ghastly or lively, it's +only words, which--as the proverb says--are evanescent as +soap-bubbles. Now," continued he, "if you want to go off to sleep, +look at this," and he gave him a bit of cardboard, on which were +traced several circles; "look at it till you see all these rings +wheeling round. When they disappear, you'll be asleep." + +The old man put the bit of cardboard before Vranic, who leaned his +elbows on the table and his head between the palms of his hands, and +stared at the drawing. Five minutes afterwards he was fast asleep. + +When he awoke the next morning, his head was not only aching, but his +weakness had so much increased that he had hardly strength enough to +stand on his feet. He, therefore, made up his mind to go to the +parish priest, and lay the whole matter before him. + +Priests are everywhere but fetich men; therefore, if they have burnt +witches for using charms and philters, it is simply because these +women trespassed on their own domains, and were more successful than +they themselves. Of what use would a priest be if he could not pray +for rain, give little _sacré cœur_ bits of flannel as talismans +against pestilence, or brass medals to scare away the devil? A priest +who can do nothing for us here below, must and will soon fall into +discredit. The hereafter is so vague and indefinite that it cannot +inspire us with half the interest the present does. + +The priest whom Vranic consulted was of the same opinion as the +tailor. He, too, believed that probably his brother had become a +vampire, who nightly left the tomb to go and suck his blood. For his +own sake, as well as for that of the whole town, it would be well to +exorcise the ghost. The matter, however, had to be kept a profound +secret, as the Government had put its veto on vampire-killing, and +looked upon all such practices as illegal. + +It was, therefore, agreed that Vranic, together with his relations +and some friends, should go to the curate's about ten o'clock at +night; there the curate would be waiting for them with another +priest; from there the little party would stealthily proceed to the +cemetery where the ceremony was to be held. + +The Friday fixed upon arrived. The night was dark, the weather +sultry; a storm had been brooding in the heavy clouds overhead and +was now ready to burst every moment. + +As soon as the muffled people got to the gate of the burying-ground +the mortuary chapel was opened to them by the sexton. The priests put +on their officiating robes, recited several orisons appropriate to +the occasion; then, with the Cross carried before them, bearing a +holy-water sprinkler in their hands, followed by Vranic and his +friends--all with blessed tapers--they went up to the murdered man's +tomb. The priest then bade the sexton dig up the earth and bring out +the coffin. + +The smell, as the pit was being dug lower down, became always more +offensive; but when, at last, the rotting deal coffin was drawn out +and opened, it became overpoweringly loathsome. The corpse, however, +being found in a good state of preservation, there could be no doubt +that the dead man was a vampire. It is true that the tapers which +everyone held gave but a dim and flickering light; moreover, that the +stench was so sickening that all turned at once their heads away in +disgust; still, they had all seen enough of the corpse to declare it +to be but seemingly dead. The priest, standing as far from it as he +possibly could, began at once to exorcise it in the name of the +Trinity, the Virgin and all the saints; to sprinkle it with holy +water, commanding it not to move, not to jump out of its box and run +away--for these ghouls are cunning devils, and if one is not on the +alert they skedaddle the moment the coffin is opened. Our priest, +however, was a match even for the dead man, and his holy-water +sprinkler was uplifted even before the lid of the loathsome chest was +loosened. + +The storm which had been threatening the whole of that day broke out +at last. No sooner had the sexton begun to dig the grave than the +wind, which had been moaning and wailing round the stones and wooden +crosses, began to howl with a sinister sound. Then, just as the +priest uttered the formula of the exorcism--when the coffin was +uncovered and the uncanny corpse was seen--a flash of lurid lightning +gleamed over its livid features, and the rumbling thunder ended in a +tremendous crash; the earth shook as if with the throes of +childbirth; hell seemed to yawn and yield forth its fulsome dead. As +the priest sprinkled the corpse with holy water, the rain came down +in torrents as if to drown the world. + +Although the noise was deafening, still some of the men affirm that +they heard the corpse lament and entreat not to be killed; but the +priest, a tall, stalwart man of great strength and courage, went on +perfectly undaunted, paying no heed to the vampire, mumbling his +prayers as if the man prostrate before him was some ordinary corpse +and this was a commonplace, every-day funeral. + +The priest, having reached in his orisons the moment when he uttered +the name of Isukrst, or God the Son, Josko Vranic, who stood by, +shivering from head to foot, and looking like a cat extracted from a +tub of soap-suds, drew out a dagger from under his coat, where it had +been carefully concealed from the ghost's sight, and stabbed the +corpse. It was, of course, a black steel stiletto, for only such a +weapon can kill a vampire. He should have stabbed the dead man in his +neck and through the throat, but he was so sick that he could hardly +stand; besides, his candle that instant went out, and, moreover, he +was terribly frightened, for although he was stabbing but a corpse, +still that corpse was his own brother. + +A flash of lightning which followed that instant of perfect darkness +showed him that the dagger, instead of being stuck in the dead man's +neck, was thrust in the right cheek. + +The ceremony being now over, the priests and their attendants +hastened back to the chapel to take shelter from the rage of the +storm, as well as to escape from the pestilential stench. + +The sexton alone remained outside to heap up the earth again on the +uncanny corpse, and shut up the grave. + +"Are you sure you stabbed the corpse in the neck, severing the +throat, and thus preventing it from ever sucking blood again?" asked +the priest. + +"Yes, I believe I have," answered Vranic, with a whining voice. + +"I don't ask you what you believe; have you done it--yes, or no?" +said the ecclesiastic, sternly. + +"Well, just as I lifted my knife to stab, the candle went out. I +couldn't see at all; the night was so dark; you all were far from me. +Besides, as I bent down, the smell made me so sick that----" + +"You don't know where you stabbed?" added the priest, angrily. + +"He stabbed him in the cheek!" said the sexton, coming in. + +"Fool!" burst out the priest, in a stentorian voice. + +"I was sure this would be the case," cried out one of the party. +"Vranic has always been a bungler of a tailor." + +"You have done a fine piece of work, you have, indeed, you wretch!" +hissed the priest, looking at Vranic scornfully. + +"You have endowed that cursed brother of yours with everlasting +life," said the other priest, "and now the whole town will be +infested with another vampire for ever!" + +"Do you really think so?" asked Vranic, ready to burst out crying. + +"Think so!" said all the other men, scornfully. "To bring us here in +the middle of the night with this storm, to stifle us with this +poisonous stench, and this is the result!" + +"But really----" stammered Vranic. + +"Anyhow, he'll not leave you till he has sucked the last drop of +blood from your body." + +The storm having somewhat abated, all the company wended their way +homewards, taking no notice of the tailor, who followed them like a +mangy cur which everyone avoids. + +That night, Vranic had not a wink of sleep. No one would have him in +his house; nobody would sleep with him, for fear of falling +afterwards a prey to the vampire. As soon as he lay down and tried to +shut his eyes, the terrifying sight appeared before him. The +festering ghost with the horrible gash in the cheek, just over the +jaw-bone, was ever present to his eyes; nor could he get rid of the +loathsome, sickening stench with which his clothes, nay, his very +body, seemed saturated. If a mouse stirred he fancied he could see +the ghost standing by him. He hid his head under the bed-cover not to +see, not to hear, until he was almost smothered, and every now and +then he felt a human hand laid on his head, on his shoulder, on his +legs, and his teeth chattered with fear. + +The storm ceased; still, the sky remained overcast, and a thin, +drizzling rain had succeeded the interrupted showers. The dreadful +night came to an end; he was happy to see the grey light of dawn +succeed the appalling darkness. Daylight brought with it happier +thoughts. + +"Perhaps," said he to himself, "my brother was no vampire, after all! +Perhaps the blade of the dagger, driven in the cheek, had penetrated +slantingly into the neck, severed the throat, and thus killed the +vampire; for something must have happened to keep the ghost away." + +On the next day Vranic remained shut up at home. He felt sure that +his own relations would henceforth hate him, and his acquaintances +would stone him if they possibly could. Nothing makes a man not only +unjust, but even cruel, like fear, and no fear is greater than the +vague dread of the unknown. That whole day he tried to work, but his +thoughts were always fixed either on the festering corpse he had +stabbed or on the coming night. + +Would the ghoul, reeking of hell, come and suck up his blood? + +As the light waned his very strength began to flow away, his legs +grew weak, his flesh shivered, the beating of his heart grew ever +more irregular. + +He lighted his little oil-lamp before it was quite dark, looked about +stealthily, trembling lest he should see the dreaded apparition +before its time, started and shuddered at the slightest noise. + +He was weary and worn out by the emotions of the former sleepless +night; still, he could not make up his mind to go to bed. He placed +his elbows on the board, buried his head within his hands, and +remained there brooding over his woes. Without daring to lift up his +eyes or look around, he at times stretched out his hand, clutched a +gourd full of spirits and took a sip. Time passed, the twilight had +faded away into soft, mellow darkness without; but in the tailor's +room the little flickering light only rendered the shadows grim and +gruesome. + +Drink and lassitude at last overpowered the poor man; his head began +to get drowsy, his ideas more confused; the heaviness of sleep +weighed him down. + +All at once he was roused from his lethargy by a sound of rushing +winds. He hardly noticed it when it blew from afar, like the slight +breeze that ruffles the surface of the sea; but, now that it came +nearer, he remembered having heard it some evenings before. He grew +pale, panted, and then his breath stopped, convulsed as he was by +fear. + +As upon the previous night, the wind was lost in the distance, and +then in the stillness of the night he heard the low, hushed sound of +footsteps coming from afar; but they drew nearer and ever nearer, +with a heavy, slow, metrical step. The night-walker was near his +house, at his door, on his threshold. The loathsome, sickening smell +of corruption grew stronger and stronger. Now it was as +overpoweringly nauseous as when he had bent down to stab his dead +brother. The sound of footsteps was now within his room; the spectre +must surely be by his side. He kept his eyes tightly shut and his +head bent down. A cold perspiration was trickling from his forehead +and through his fingers on to the table. + +All at once, something heavy and metallic was thrown in front of him. +Although his eyes were tightly shut, he knew that it was the black +dagger that his brother had come to bring him back, and he was not +mistaken. + +Was there a chuckle just then? + +Almost against his will he opened his eyes, lifted his head, and +looked at his guest. The vampire was standing by his side grinning at +him hideously, notwithstanding the gash in his right cheek. + +"Thank you, brother," said he, in a hollow, mocking voice, "for what +you did yesterday; you have, in fact, given me everlasting life; and, +as one good turn deserves another, you soon will be a vampire along +with me. Come, don't look so scared, man; it's a pleasant life, after +all. We sleep soundly during the day, and, believe me, no bed is so +comfortable as the coffin, no house so quiet as the grave; but at +night, when all the world sleeps and only witches are awake, then we +not only live, but we enjoy life. No cankering care, no worry about +the morrow. We have only fun and frolic, for we suck, we suck, we +suck." + +Vranic heard the sound of smacking lips just by his neck, the vampire +had already laid his hands upon him. + +He tried to rise, to struggle, but his strength and his senses +forsook him; he uttered a choked, raucous sound, then his breath +again stopped spasmodically, his face grew livid, he gasped for +breath, his face and lips got to be of a violet hue, his eyes shut +themselves, as he dropped fainting in his chair. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +THE FACE IN THE MIRROR + + +A few days after Radonic had been brought back dying, Uros was +walking down the mountain path leading from the heights of Montenegro +to the Dalmatian coast. He was even in higher spirits than he was +usually wont to be. + +His father had accompanied him to the frontier, and on the way he had +opened his heart to him, and told him of his love for Milena, and +even obtained his consent for his marriage, which might take place as +soon as her widowhood was over. Bellacic, moreover, had promised to +write to his friend, Giulianic, to release him from his pledge. + +The day, as it dawned now, was a glorious one, bright, clear and +fresh. After the storm and rain of the day before, the dark crags of +the Cernagora seemed but newly created, or only just arisen out of +the glittering waters that stretched down below in a translucent, +misty mass of sluggish streams flowing through a cloudy ocean. + +The breeze that blew from the mountain-tops seemed to him like some +exhilarating, life-giving fluid. Exercise--not prolonged as yet +--rendered his senses of enjoyment keener; he felt happy with himself +and with the world at large. He was in one of those rare moods in +which a man would like the earth to be a human being, so as to clasp +it fondly to his breast, as he does a child, or the woman he loves. + +Although he did not rejoice at Radonic's death, still, as he loved +Milena, it was natural that he was glad the obstacle to his happiness +had been removed, and a wave of joy seemed to rise from his heart +upwards as his nerves tingled with excitement at the thought that in +a few months she might be his wife. + +Therefore, with his blithe and merry character, ever prone to look on +the bright side of life, it is easy to imagine his buoyancy of +spirits as he walked down to Budua. Every step was bringing him +nearer her; before the sun had reached its zenith he would be at +home, clasping her in his arms; she--Milena--would be his for ever, +and he crossed his arms and hugged himself in his excited state of +mind. + +Then he began to imagine Milenko's delight when he would hear that +he, too, could marry the girl he loved. + +It is not to be wondered at that he thought the earth a good +dwelling-place, and that life--taking it on the whole--was not only +worth living, but very pleasant besides. It is true, he said to +himself, that man sometimes mars the work of God with his passions; +still, _karvarinas_ were the clouds of life, enhancing the beauty of +the bright days which followed sudden showers. Sullen and malicious +men like Vranic and his brood were buzzing insects, more tedious than +harmful to their fellow-creatures. + +Such were the thoughts that flitted through his mind as he walked +briskly along, singing as blithely as a lark. As he had, the day +before, sent word to Milenko that he would be back on the morrow, he +stopped at every turn of the road, and, shading his eyes with his +hand, he looked down the road, hoping to see his friend's graceful +figure coming to meet him, as was sure to be the case. + +He had never been separated from Milenko for so many days, and now +that he was about to see him, his longing seemed to increase at every +step. + +As for Milenko, being of a more sensitive character, and having +remained on board, he had missed his friend even more keenly than +Uros had done. He would have started to meet him at early dawn, but +he had been obliged to remain behind and look after the ship's cargo, +that had been delayed the evening before on account of some trifling +incident--for, sometimes, things of no importance in themselves lead +to the most dreadful calamities. Likewise, the string of one of +Milenko's shoes broke, so he stopped to tie it; after some steps it +broke again. He stopped once more, pulled off his shoe, unlaced it, +tied the string as well as he could. After a quarter of an hour the +string of the other shoe broke too; he had again to stop and mend it. +More than five minutes was thus lost; besides, the loose strings not +only made him linger, but even slacken his pace. + +Uros went down singing snatches of some merry song, little thinking +that the delay in meeting his friend would almost cost him his life. + +The news of Radonic's death had soon been spread about Budua, and he, +who had never been a favourite during his lifetime, became a hero +after death. The Samson-like way in which he had fought was extolled, +the number of wounds he had received, the hundreds of Turks he had +killed went on daily increasing. His dauntless courage, his bold +feats, his cunningness in council were becoming legendary; in fact, +he was for some time a second Marko Kraglievic. The Vranite party +--especially after the night of the burying-ground affair--had +dwindled into nothing. The Radonites ruled the day. + +Earless Vranic, as he was called everywhere, was galled by his +defeat; his envious, jealous disposition could find no rest. Being, +moreover, doomed to a certain death, he found himself like a stag at +bay, and he almost felt at times the courage of despair. + +The radiant day which followed the dreadful night when the vampire +appeared to him brought no change to Vranic's gloom. He was too much +like a night-bird now to feel any pleasure at the sight of the sunlit +sky. Like an owl he shunned the light, and only prowled about when +every man had shut himself up in his house. He dreaded the sight of a +human face on account of the scowl of hatred he was sure to see +there, for he knew that everyone looked upon him not as a man, but as +the bloodsucker he would soon become. + +Having recovered from his fainting-fit after the visit of the +_voukoudlak_, he almost lost his senses again, seeing the black +dagger on the table in front of him. With a fluttering heart, and +aching head and tottering limbs, he walked about his room, asking +himself what he should do and how he could escape the wretchedness of +his present life. Suicide never came into his head, for, in spite of +all his misery, life still was dear to him. The best thing would, +perhaps, be to leave Budua for a short time, and thus frustrate the +vampire. + +As he had to go and pay the priest for the ceremony of the exorcism, +he decided to ask, and perhaps take, his advice upon what he was to +do and where he should go. He went grudgingly, indeed, to pay a large +sum of money for a ceremony which had been of no avail, and although +it had not been the priest's fault if the ghost had not been killed, +still the money was being thrown away, for all that. + +Before leaving the house, he took the black dagger, washed and +scrubbed it with fine sand to cleanse it from the offensive smell it +had, then he put it in his breast pocket, where he had had it some +nights before. With heavy steps he trudged towards the priest's house +at dawn, before the people of the town were up and about the streets. +The priest, who was an early riser, had just got up. Vranic, with +unwilling hands, undid the strings of his purse, and counted out, +with many a sigh, the sum agreed upon, for the priest would not bate +a single cent. Then Vranic, with his eyes gloating on the silver +dollars, told the clergyman how the vampire had appeared to him and +overcome him. + +"Aye," said the priest, "I was afraid that would be the case." + +"And now I'd like to leave the town, for I might thus avoid the +vampire." + +"The best thing you could do." + +"Yes, but where am I to go in order to escape the ghost?" + +"I think the best place for you is the Convent of St. George. Surely +the spectre 'll not follow you there in those hallowed walls, amongst +all those saintly men." + +"Yes, but will the brotherhood receive me?" + +"Tell them that I sent you. Moreover, I'll call myself during the day +and speak to them. May I add that, perhaps, you'll be induced to turn +caloyer yourself some day or other. Meanwhile, a little charity to +the convent would render your stay more agreeable. You know the +brotherhood is poor." + +Vranic thanked the priest, and promised to be guided by his advice; +still, he could not help thinking of all the money this new scheme +might cost him. It is true, if he turned friar, he might get rid of +the vampire, but would he not also lose all his money into the +bargain? + +Which was the greater evil of the two--to be sucked of all his blood, +or drained of all his money? + +Out of the town gate, far from the haunts and scowling faces of men, +he breathed a little more at ease. Were they not all a set of +grasping, covetous ghouls, whose only aim was to wrench all he had +from him? The dazzling sunshine and the dancing waves, far from +soothing him, only irritated him, for he fancied that all the world +was blithe, merry and happy, and he alone was miserable. He thought +how happy he, too, might have been had that cursed _karvarina_ not +taken place. He had never felt any deep hatred against Radonic, nor +had he any real reason for disliking him; for, to be true to himself, +his brother's murder had been an incident, not an accident, in his +life. It was not Radonic's fault if the ghost-seer had become a +vampire after his death. All his grudge was rather against Bellacic, +who had helped to frustrate him of a good round sum of money, owed to +him for his brother's blood. He hated him especially for having +inflicted a bodily and moral wound by cutting off his ear, rendering +him thus an object of everlasting scorn in the whole town. + +Radonic was dead, but Bellacic lived to triumph over him. If he could +only wreak his vengeance upon him he might pacify the vampire's rage; +if not, he could always make his escape into the convent. With these +thoughts in his head, he clutched the handle of the dagger and, as he +did so, he shivered from head to foot with a kind of hellish delight. + +Just then he fancied he heard a distant chuckle and looked round. He +could see nobody. It was only his imagination. Almost at the same +time he heard a voice whisper softly in his ear: + +"Use this dagger against my enemies better than you did against me, +and then, perhaps, you might be free." + +Was it his brother ordering him what he was to do? Instead of +stopping at the convent, should he go on to Montenegro, waylay +Bellacic and murder him? + +He had been walking, or rather, crawling quietly on, for about two +hours; the sun was high up in the sky, the day was hot, the road +dusty, and, worn out by sleeplessness, by worry and, above all, by +the great loss of blood, he was now overcome by weariness and +weakness. The monastery was at last in sight; still, he felt as if he +could hardly crawl any further on; so, undecided as he was, he sat +down at the side of some laurel-bushes to rest and make up his mind +as to what he was to do. + +He had not been sitting there a quarter of an hour, blinking at the +sun, like an owl, when he heard snatches of an unknown song, wafted +from afar. It was not one of the plaintive lays of his own country, +but a lively, blithe Italian canzonet, with trills that sounded like +the merry warbling of a lark. The singing stopped--it began again, +then stopped once more; after that he heard a light, brisk step +coming towards him. A man who could sing and walk in such a way must +surely be happy, he thought. Then, without knowing who the man was, +he hated him for being happy. Why should some people have all the +sweetness, and others all the gall of life? he asked himself. Is not +this world a fool's paradise for him and a dungeon for me? In my +wretchedness he seems to taunt me with his mirth. Well, if ever I +become a vampire, the first blood I'll suck is that man's; and I'll +drain the very last drop, for it must be warm and sweet. + +Just then the light-hearted singer passed by the laurel-bushes, +without perceiving the owl-like man half hidden behind them. Vranic, +lifting up his head, saw the flushed face, the sparkling eyes, the +red and parted lips of his enemy's son--the youth who, by his beauty +and his criminal love, had been the cause of all the mischief. Had it +not been for him, his brother would probably not have been murdered, +and, what was far worse, become a _voukoudlak_. Instinctively he +clasped the handle of his dagger, and the words he had heard a little +while before rang once more in his ears, urging him to make good use +of the knife now that an opportunity offered itself. Besides, would +not his revenge be a far keener one in killing this young man, his +father's only son, than in murdering Bellacic himself? This was real +_karvarina_, and his lost ear would be dearly paid for. + +Uplifted by a strength which was not his own, urged on almost +unconsciously, Vranic jumped up and ran after the merry youth. + +Uros just at that moment had perceived Milenko at a distance, and, +hurrying down to meet him, he, in his joy, had not heard the fiend +spring like a tiger from behind the bush and rush at him with +uplifted knife. + +Milenko, seeing Vranic appear all at once, with a dagger in his hand, +stopped, uplifted both his hands, and uttered a loud cry of terror, +threat and anger. + +Uros, for an instant, could not understand what was happening; but +hearing someone running after him, and already close to his heels, he +turned round, and to his horror he saw Josko Vranic scowling at him. +The face, with its blinking eyes and all its nerves twitching +frightfully, had a fierce and fiendish expression--it was, in fact, +just as he had seen it in the glass on New Year's Eve, at the fatal +stroke of twelve. + +A moment of overpowering superstitious terror came over Uros; he knew +that his last hour had arrived. In his distracted state, Uros had +only time to lift up his arm in an attitude of self-defence, but +Vranic was already upon him, plunging the sharp-pointed blade in his +breast. The youth uttered a low, muffled groan, staggered, put his +hands instinctively to the deep gash, as if to stop the blood from +all rushing out; then he fell senseless on the ground. + +Vranic plucked the poniard out of the wound mechanically; his arm +fell heavily of its own weight. Then, struck with a sudden terror, +not because he saw Milenko rushing up, but because he was bewildered +at what he had so rashly done, he, after standing quite still for a +moment, turned round and fled. + +Milenko had already rushed to his friend's side; he was clasping him +in his arms, lifting him up with the tender fondness of a mother +nursing a sickly babe. Alas! all his loving care seemed vain; the +point of the dagger must have entered within his heart, and death had +been instantaneous. + +Milenko did not lose his presence of mind for an instant; nor did he +try to run after the murderer. He took off his broad sash which he +wore as a belt, tore up his shirt, rolled a smooth stone in the rag, +and with this pad (to stop up the blood) he bandaged up the wound as +tightly as he possibly could. Then he took up his friend in his arms, +and although Uros was a heavier weight than himself, still his life +of a sailor had strengthened his muscles to such a degree that he +carried his burden, if not with ease, at least, not with too great +difficulty, down to the neighbouring convent. + +It was well known in town that some of the holy men were versed in +medicine, and especially that the secret of composing salves, and the +knowledge of simples with which to heal deadly wounds, was +transmitted by one friar on his death-bed to another. Still, when +Milenko had laid down his friend upon a bed, the wisest of these wise +men shook their heads gravely and declared the case to be a desperate +one. The head surgeon said that, if life were not already extinct--as +Milenko had believed--still the youth's recovery could only be +brought about by a miracle, for he was already beyond all human help. + +Milenko felt his legs giving way. A cold, damp draught seemed to blow +on his face. + +"He might," continued the old man, "last some hours; he might even +linger on for some days." + +"Anyhow," added another caloyer, "we have time to administer the Holy +Sacrament and prepare him for heaven." + +"Oh, yes! there is time for that," quoth the doctor, shrugging his +shoulders; "but, before the wine and bread, I'll prepare the +cathartic water with which to wash the wound, for while there is life +a doctor must not give up hope." + +"Then," said Milenko, falteringly, "I can leave him to your care, and +run and fetch his mother; he'll not pass away till my return?" + +"Not if you make every possible haste." + +"You promise?" + +"He is in God's hands, my son." + +With a heavy heart, and with the tears ever trickling down his +cheeks, Milenko ran down the mountain, and all the way from the +convent to the gates of Budua. He stopped to take breath before +Bellacic's house, and then he went in, and, composing his face as +well as he could, he gently broke the terrible news to the forlorn +mother. + +Mara was a most courageous woman. Far from fainting and requiring all +attendance upon herself, she bethought herself at once of the +difficulty in the way, for she knew that no women were admitted into +a convent of monks. One person alone might help her. This was her +uncle, a priest of high degree, and a most important personage in the +town. + +She hastened to his house, and, having explained matters to him, she +implored him to start at once with her for the Convent of St. George +and obtain for her the permission she required. The good man, +although he hated walking, was not only very fond of his niece, but +loved Uros as his own son, so he acceded at once to her request and +set out with her, notwithstanding that it was nearly dinner-time, and +not exactly an hour suited for a long up-hill walk. Milenko, having +broken the news to Mara, hastened to his own house to inform his +parents of the great misfortune. His father, snatching up a loaf of +bread and a gourd of wine, started at once with him. He would go as +far as the convent, enquire there how Uros was getting on, and then +hasten on to Montenegro and inform Bellacic of what had taken place. +When they all got to the convent they found that Uros was still alive +and always unconscious. + +Just when Milenko had got back to the convent he remembered that, in +his hurry to go and return, he had forgotten one person, dearer to +his friend, perhaps, even than father or mother; that person was +Milena. + +When the news of Radonic's death reached Budua, Milena made up her +mind to return to her father's house. Still, she was rather weak to +undertake the journey, and, moreover, she would not go there until +Uros had come back. + +On the morning on which Uros was expected she had gone to her own +house, to put things in order previous to her departure, and Mara had +promised to come and see her that afternoon, and take her home with +her. + +Time passed; Milena was sitting in her house alone, waiting for her +friend. At every step she heard outside, her heart would begin to +beat faster, and with unsteady steps she would go to the window, +hoping to see Uros and his mother; but she was always disappointed. +Her sufferings had told their tale upon her thin pale face, which, +though it had lost all its freshness, had acquired a new and more +ethereal kind of beauty. Her large and lustrous eyes--staring at +vacancy--seemed to be gazing at some woful, soul-absorbing vision. +The whole of that day she had been a prey to the most gloomy +forebodings. + +All at once a little urchin of about four or five summers stood on +the doorstep. + +"_Gospa_ Milena," lisped the little child, "I've come to see you." + +It had been a daring deed to wander all the way from home by +himself, and he was rather frightened. + +This child was the son of one of Mara's neighbours, whom Milena had +of late made a pet of, and whom she had sometimes taken along with +her when coming to her house. + +Milena turned round and looked at the little child, that might well +have been taken for an angel just alighted from heaven, for the +slanting rays of the setting sun shining through his fair, +dishevelled, curly locks seemed to form a kind of halo round his +little head. + +"Have you come all the way from home to see me?" + +"Yes," said the child, staring at her to see whether she was cross. +"I've come for you to tell me a story." + +Milena caught up the boy and covered him with kisses. She was about +to ask him if he knew whether Uros had returned, but the question +lingered for an instant on her lips; then she blushed, and feared to +frame her thoughts in words. Anyhow, it was a very good excuse to +shut up her house and take the little boy back home. + +"Will you tell me a story?" persisted the urchin. + +"Yes," said Milena, smiling, "for you must be tired and hungry, too." + +She went into the orchard behind the house, and presently came back +with a huge peach, which made the child's eyes glisten with pleasure. + +"Now, come and sit down here, and when you've finished your peach +I'll take you home." + +Thereupon she sat down on her favourite seat, the doorstep, and the +child nestled by her side. + +"What story shall I tell you?" + +"One you've already told me," replied the boy, for, like almost all +children, he liked best the stories he already knew. + +Milena then began the oft-repeated tale of + + +THE MAN WHO SERVED THE DEVIL. + +"Once a farmer's only son married a very young girl----" + +"How old was she?" interrupted the child. + +"She was sixteen." + +"Last time you told me she was fifteen." + +"So she was, but that was a year ago. They had a very grand wedding, +to which all the people of the village were invited----" + +"Not the village, the town," said the child. + +"You are right," added Milena, correcting herself. + +"For eight days they danced the _Kolo_ every night, and had grand +dinners and suppers." + +"What had they for dinner?" + +"They had roast lambs, _castradina_, chickens, geese----" + +"And also sausages?" + +"Yes; and ever so many other good things." + +"But what had they for supper?" + +"They had huge loaves of milk-bread and cakes with raisins----" + +"Had they also peaches?" asked the boy, with his mouth full, whilst +the juice of his own luscious peach was trickling down his chin. + +"Yes; they had also grapes, melons and pomegranates; so when every +guest had eaten till he could hardly stand, all squatted on the floor +and sucked sticks of sugar-candy. When the eight days' feasting was +over, the bridegroom weighed himself and, to his dismay, found that +he was eight pounds lighter than on the eve of his marriage." + +"Why?" asked the child, with widely-opened eyes. + +"Because," answered Milena, with a slight smile and the faintest of +blushes, "because, I suppose, he had danced too much." + +"But if he ate till he couldn't stand?" + +"Anyhow," continued Milena, "he was so frightened when he saw how +much he had lost in weight that he made up his mind to run away and +leave his wife at home." + +"But why?" quoth the urchin. + +"Because he thought that if he kept getting thin at that rate, +nothing would soon be left of him. He, therefore, made a bundle of +his clothes and went off in the middle of the night. He walked and +walked, and after a few days, at early dawn, he got to a bleak and +desolate country, where there was nothing but huge rocks, sharp +flints, and sandy tracts of ground. Far off he saw a large castle, +with high stone walls and big iron gates. Being very tired and not +seeing either a tree or a bush as far as eye could reach, he went +and knocked at one of the gates. An elderly gentleman, dressed in +black, came to open, and asked him what he wanted. + +"'I come,' said the bridegroom, 'to see if you are, perhaps, in want +of a serving-man.' + +"'You come in the nick of time,' said the old man, grinning. 'I'll +take you as my cook; you'll not have much to do.' + +"'But,' answered the young man, 'I'm not very clever as a cook.' + +"'It doesn't matter; you'll only have to keep a pot boiling and be +ever stirring what's in it.' + +"He then led the young man into a kind of underground kitchen, where +there was an immense pot hanging on a hook, and underneath a roaring +fire was burning. Then the old gentleman gave the youth a ladle as +big as a shovel, and bade him stir continually, and every now and +then add more fuel to the fire. + +"The youth stirred on and on for twenty-five years, and then he grew +tired and stopped for a while. When he was about to begin again he +heard a voice coming out of the cauldron, which said: + +"'You've been mixing us up for a good long while; couldn't you let us +have a little rest?' + +"The cook--who was no more a youth, but an elderly man--got +frightened. He left the kitchen and went to find his master. + +"'Well,' said the elderly gentleman, who was not a day older than he +had been twenty-five years before, 'what is it you want?' + +"'I'm rather tired of always stirring that pot, and I'd like to go +home.' + +"'Quite right,' replied the master. 'I suppose you want your wages?' + +"He then went to an iron box and took out two big sacks of gold +coins. + +"'You have served me faithfully, and I'll pay you accordingly. This +money is yours.' + +"The man took the money and thanked his master. + +"'I'll give you, moreover, some advice, which is, perhaps, worth more +than the money itself. Listen to my words, and remember them. Upon +leaving me, always take the high road; on no account go through lanes +and byways. Never put up for the night at little hostelries, but +always stop at the largest inns. Whenever you are about to commit +some rash act, defer your purpose till the morrow. Lastly, when +people speak badly of the devil, tell them that he is less black than +he is painted.' + +"The man thanked his master and went off. He walked for some time on +the highway, and then he met another traveller, who was walking in +the same direction. After a few hours they came to a crossway. + +"'Let us take this path, for we'll get to the next town two hours +sooner,' said the traveller. + +"The devil's cook was about to follow the stranger's advice, when he +heard his master's words ringing in his ears: 'Always take the high +road, and on no account go through lanes and byways.' + +"He, therefore, told his fellow-traveller how he had pledged his word +to his master to follow his advice. As neither could persuade the +other, they parted company, promising each other to meet again at +nightfall, at the neighbouring town. + +"As soon as the devil's cook reached the inn where he was to spend +the night, he asked for his new friend, and, on the morrow, he was +grieved to hear that a wayfarer, answering to the traveller's +description, had been murdered the day before, when crossing the +lonely byway leading to the town. + +"The devil's cook set out once more on his way, and he was soon +overtaken by a party of merry pedlars, all journeying towards his +native town, where, a few days afterwards, there was to be a fair +held in honour of a patron saint. He made friends with all of them, +especially as he bought silk kerchiefs, dresses and trinkets, as +presents for his wife. They trudged along the high road, avoiding all +short cuts, lanes and byways. In the evening they came to a large +village, where they were to pass the night. + +"'Let us stop here,' said one of the party, pointing to a tavern by +the roadside; 'I know the landlord; the cooking is very good, nowhere +can you get a better glass of wine; and besides, it is much cheaper +than at the large inn farther down.' + +"The devil's cook was already on the threshold, when he again +remembered his master's words: + +"'Never put up at little hostelries, but always stop at the larger +inns.' + +"He, therefore, parted from his company, and went off by himself to +the next inn. + +"He had his supper by himself, and then, being very tired, he went +off to bed. In the middle of the night he was awakened by a very loud +noise and a great bustle. He got out of bed, and, going to the +window, he saw the sky all red, and the village seemed to be in +flames. He went downstairs, and he was told that the little tavern by +the roadside was burning. It appears that the travellers who had +stopped there had all got drunk. Somehow or other they had set fire +to the house, and, in their sleep, had all got burnt. + +"The devil's cook was again grateful to his master for his good +advice, and on the morrow he once more set out on his way alone. + +"In the evening he at last reached his native town. He was surprised +at the many changes that had taken place since he had left it +twenty-five years before. On the square, just in front of his own +house, a large inn had been built; therefore, instead of going at +once to his wife's, he went to pass the night at the inn, and see +what was taking place at home. + +"From the windows of the inn he saw all his house illuminated, and +people coming in and going out as if some wedding or other grand +feast were taking place. Then, in one of the rooms of the first floor +he saw his wife--now a buxom matron--together with two handsome +youths in priest's attire. To his horror and dismay, he saw her +hugging and fondling the young men, who were covering her with +kisses. At this sight he got into such a rage that he took out his +pistol." + +"No," said the child, interrupting, "he took up his gun, which was in +a corner of the room." + +"Quite right," answered Milena; "he took up his gun, aimed at his +wife, and was about to shoot, when he fancied he heard his master's +voice saying: + +"'Whenever you are about to commit some rash act, put off your +purpose till the morrow.' + +"He, therefore, thought he would postpone his revenge till the next +day, and he went downstairs to have his supper. + +"'Who lives opposite,' he asked of the landlord, 'in that house where +they seem to be having such grand doings?' + +"'A very virtuous woman,' quoth the host, 'whose husband disappeared +in a strange, mysterious way on the eighth day of the wedding feast, +and has never been heard of since.' + +"'And she never married again?' + +"'No, of course not.' + +"'But who are those two handsome priests that are with her?' + +"'Those are her two boys, twins born shortly after the marriage. The +house is illuminated as to-morrow the two young men are to be +consecrated priests, and their mother is giving a feast in their +honour.' + +"On the morrow the husband went home, made himself known, presented +each of his two sons with a sack of gold coins, gave his wife all the +beautiful presents he had bought for her; then he went to church and +assisted at the ceremony of the consecration. After that he gave all +his old friends a splendid feast, which lasted eight days; and he +told them how, for twenty-five years, he had served the devil, who +was by no means as black as he is painted." + +"I wonder," said the child, "if he got thin again after the feast." + +"I don't know," replied Milena, "for the story stops there." + +"No, it doesn't, for my papa said that many people tried to go and +offer themselves as cooks to the devil, but that they had never been +heard of since then." + +"And now I'll take you home. Perhaps we'll meet _gospa_ Mara on our +way." + +"No, we'll not meet her," said the child, abruptly. + +"Why? Because Uros has come home?" + +"But Uros hasn't come home." + +"How do you know?" + +"I know, because _Capitan_ Milenko came this morning and told _gospa_ +Mara that Josko Vranic had killed Uros, and so she went off at once +to the Convent of St. George, where----" + +Milena heard no more. A deadly faintness came over her; she loosened +the grasp of the door she had clutched, her legs sank under her, and +she fell lifeless on the ground. + +The urchin looked at her astonished. He, for a moment, gave up +sucking his peach-stone; then he turned on his heels and scampered +home to inform his mother about what had happened. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + +THE CONVENT OF ST. GEORGE + + +When Mara reached the convent, it was with the greatest difficulty, +and only through the persuasive influence of her uncle, Danko +Kvekvic, that she was allowed to see her son. Uros, moreover, had to +be transported from the cell into which he had been carried, into a +room near the church--a sort of border-land between the sanctuary and +the convent. Even there she was only allowed to remain till +nightfall. + +"Tell me," said Mara, to the ministering monk (a man more than six +feet in height, and who, in his black robes, seemed a real giant), +"tell me, do you think he might pass away during the night while I am +not with him?" + +"No, I don't think so. He is young and strong; he is one of our +sturdy race--a Iugo Slav, not a Greek, or an effete Turk eaten away +by vice and debauchery. He'll linger on." + +"Still, there is no hope?" + +"Who can tell? I never said there was none. For me, as long as there +is a faint spark of life, there is always hope." + +"Still, you have administered the sacrament to him?" + +"You wouldn't have him die like a dog, would you?" answered the +priest, combing out his long white beard with his fingers. + +"No, certainly not." + +"Besides, we all take the sacrament when we are in bodily health. +Your son came to himself for a few moments, and we seized the +opportunity to administer to him the Holy Communion and pray with +him; it does no harm to the body, whilst it sets the troubled mind at +ease." + +Danko Kvekvic, Mara and Milenko crossed themselves devoutly. + +"It cannot be denied," continued the monk, "that our patient lies +there with both his feet in the grave. Still, God is omnipotent. I +have seen many a brave man fall on the battlefield----" + +"You have been in war?" asked Milenko, astonished. + +"Bearing the Cross and tending the wounded." + +"Still, it is said that at times you wielded the gun with remarkable +dexterity," interrupted Danko Kvekvic, with a keen smile. + +"Do people say so? Well, what if they do? I am sure no harm is meant +by it; for, if my memory does not deceive me, the very same thing was +said about a priest who is no monk of our order, Danko Kvekvic, and +who, for all that, is said to be a holy man." + +"Well, well, we all try to serve our God and our country as well as +we can; and no doubt we have done our best to save our flag from +being trampled in the dust, or a fellow-countryman's life when in +danger. But I interrupted you; tell me what you have seen on the +battlefield." + +"Nothing, except blood spilt; but I was going to say that I've seen +many a man linger within the jaws of death for days together, and +then be snatched from danger when his state became desperate." + +"By your skill, father," said Mara, "for we are all aware that you +know the secrets of plants, and that you have effected wonderful +cures by means of simples." + +"Aye, aye! perhaps I have been more successful than the learned +doctors of Dunaj" (Vienna) "or Benetke" (Venice); "still, shall I +tell you the secret of my cures?" + +Mara opened her eyes in wonder. "I thought it was only a death-bed +secret transmitted from one dying monk to his successor," said she. + +"We are not wizards," said the old man, with a pleasant smile; "we +make no mystery of the herbs we seek on the mountains, and even the +youngest lay-brother is taught to concoct an elixir or make a salve +for wounds." + +"But the secret you spoke of?" said Mara. + +"It is the pure life-giving air of our mountains, the sobriety of our +life, our healthy work in the open fields or on the wide sea. Our +sons have in their veins their mothers' blood, for every Serb or +Montenegrin woman is a heroine, a brave _juna-kinja_, who has often +suckled her babe with blood instead of milk. These are the secrets +with which we heal dying men." + +Then, turning to Milenko, he added: + +"You, too, must be a brave young man, and wise even beyond your +years. You have the courage of reason, for you do not lose your head +in moments of great danger. We have already heard how you saved +several precious lives from the waves, and now, if your friend does +recover--and, with God's help, let us hope he will--it is to you, far +more than to anyone else, that he will owe his life. A practised +surgeon could surely not have bandaged the wound and stopped the +hemorrhage better than you did. Your father should have sent you to +study medicine in one of the great towns." + +Mara stretched forth her hand and clasped Milenko. + +"You never told me what you had done, my boy," said she, while the +tears trickled down her cheeks. + +"What I did was little enough; besides, did Uros ever tell you how he +saved my life and dragged me out of prison at Ragusa?" and Milenko +thereupon proceeded to tell them all how he had been accused of +manslaughter, and in what a wonderful way he had been saved by his +friend. + +"In my grief I have always one consolation," said Mara; "should the +worst happen, one son is left me, for they are _pobratim_," said she, +turning to the monk. + +"What has become of the murderer? Has he been arrested?" asked +Kvekvic of Milenko. + +"He took to the rocks and disappeared like a horned adder. At that +moment I only thought of Uros, who would have bled to death had he +been left alone." + +"Oh, those Vranics are a cursed race! The Almighty God has not put a +sign on them for nothing. This one has a cast in his eye, so that men +should keep aloof from him. They are all a peevish, fretful, +malicious race," said Kvekvic. + +"Their blood turns to gall," added the monk. + +"Oh, but I'll find him out, even if he hide himself in the most +secret recess!" quoth Milenko, turning towards Mara. "I'll not rest +till my brother's blood is avenged." + +"'Tooth for tooth, eye for eye,' say our Holy Scriptures," and Danko +Kvekvic crossed himself. + +"Amen!" added the monk, following his example. + +Just then Uros opened his eyes. He came to his senses for a few +seconds, and, seeing his mother, his pupils seemed to dilate with a +yearning look of love. She pressed his hand, and he slightly--almost +imperceptibly--returned the pressure. His lips quivered; he was about +to speak, when he again closed his eyes and his senses began once +more to wander. The monk bathed his lips with the cordial he was +administering him. The patient, apparently, had again fallen off to +sleep. + +Just then the sound of the convent bell was heard. + +"I am sorry," said the old caloyer, turning towards his guests, "but +I have to dismiss you now; the bell you have just heard summons us to +_vecernjca_. When our prayers are over, the doors of our house are +closed for the night--no one comes in or goes out after evensong." + +"But we two can surely remain with you to-night," said Kvekvic, +pointing to Milenko. + +"Surely Father Vjekoslav will readily give you permission to be our +honoured guests as long as you like, if he has not already granted +it; but----" (here the old man hesitated). + +"But what?" asked Kvekvic. + +"The _gospa_," said the monk, turning towards Mara, "must return +home." + +"Yes, I know," added Mara, sighing as she got up. + +"Still," quoth the good caloyer, "we shall take great care of him, +and to-morrow morning you can come as early as you like." + +The poor mother thanked the good old man; she slightly brushed off +the curls from her boy's forehead, kissed him with a deep-drawn sigh, +and with tearful eyes rose to go. + +"Thank you for all the care you have taken of my child; thank you, +uncle Danko, for all your kindness," and she kissed the priest's and +the monk's hands, according to the custom of the Slavs. + +Just then, a young lay-monk came to inform Mara that someone was +asking for her. It was Milenko's mother, who had come up to the +convent door to ask how Uros was getting on, and to see if she could +be of any use, for Milenko, with his usual thoughtfulness, had begged +his mother to come in the evening and accompany her friend back home. + +"Go, Milos, and join the brethren in their prayers," said Danko +Kvekvic. "I shall recite my orisons here, beside my nephew's bed." + +The monk and Milenko accompanied the forlorn mother to the convent +door, and bade her be of good cheer; then they went to church to take +part in the evening service. + +When the candles were all put out, and echoes of the evening-song had +died away, they all slowly, and with stately steps, wended their way +to the refectory, where a simple repast was spread out for them. +Being Friday, the frugal supper consisted of vegetarian food; there +were tomatoes baked with bread-crumbs, egg-plants stuffed with rice, +and other such oriental dishes. The dessert, especially, was a +sumptuous one, not only on account of the thickly-curded sour milk, +but of the splendid fruit which the convent garden afforded. There +were luscious plums as big as eggs; large, juicy and fragrant +peaches, the flesh of which clung to the stone; huge water-melons, +the inside of which looked like crimson snow, and melted away as +such, and sweet-scented musk-melons; above all, big clusters of +grapes of all shapes and hues; rosy-tinted, translucent berries, +looking like pale rubies; dark purple drupes covered with pearly +dust, which seemed like bunches of damsons; big white Smyrna grapes +of a waxy hue, the small sultana of Corinth, and the long grapes that +look like amber tears. + +Milenko, notwithstanding the grief he felt, made a hearty meal, for, +except a bit of bread, broken off as he walked along from his +father's loaf, and a draught of wine, he had scarcely tasted food the +whole of that day; therefore, he was more than hungry. Supper being +over, and a short thanksgiving prayer having been offered, Milenko +found himself all at once surrounded by the monks, who pressed him +with questions, for childish curiosity was their prevailing weakness. + +They were especially interested in the theatrical performances the +young man had witnessed at the Fenice of Venice, for they were amazed +to hear that the grand ladies of the town, all glittering with costly +gems, sat in boxes, where they exhibited to all eyes their naked arms +and breasts, whilst they looked at young girls in transparent skirts +hardly reaching their knees, who kept dancing on the tips of their +toes, or twirled their legs over their partners' heads. Hearing such +lewdness the saintly men were so greatly shocked that they crossed +themselves demurely, and the eldest shook their heads, and said, +reproachfully, that such dens of infamous resort were not places for +modest young men to go to. + +After that, Milenko told them of the last great invention, the boats +that went without sails, but which had two huge wheels moved by fire; +at which the monks again crossed themselves, and said that those were +the devil's inventions, and that if things continued at such a rate, +God would have to send another flood and destroy the world once more. + +Milenko would have willingly escaped from his persecutors, but he +still had to answer many questions about his life on board, the +hardships he had had to undergo, the storms his ship had met with. + +The medical monk had gone to take his place at Uros' bedside, and +Danko Kvekvic, after having had some supper, had come out to breathe +the fresh air on the convent's terrace, where all the caloyers had +assembled before retiring to rest. + +The scene was a most lovely one. Behind the terrace the high +mountains rose dark against the sky; nearer, the black rocks had +furry, velvety, and satin tints, for, under the dark and dusky light +of the disappearing twilight, the stones seemed to have grown soft; +whilst, on the other side, the broad expanse of the sea looked like a +mass of some hard burnished metal. + +The utter quietness, the perfect peace and rest which pervaded the +whole scene, rendered the sense of life a pleasurable feeling; still, +it is doubtful whether most of those holy men--who had never known +the real wear and tear of life--felt all the bliss of that beatific +rest. + +"Now," said Kvekvic to Milenko, "you can come and see your friend, +who, I am sorry to say, seems to be sinking; then you must retire to +rest; you'll soon have to start with your ship, and you should not +unfit yourself for your task." + +"No," pleaded Milenko; "it is, perhaps, the last watch we shall keep +together; therefore, let me stay by his bedside. But, tell me, is he +really getting worse?" + +"The fever is increasing fast, notwithstanding the father's +medicines." + +"Had we not better have a doctor from Budua or Cattaro?" + +"I don't think their skill could be of much use, for I really think +his hours are numbered here below--although he is young, and might +struggle back to life; darkness, albeit, is gathering fast around +him." + +Milenko, with a heavy heart, went back to the sufferer's cell, where +some other monks, also versed in the art of healing, had gathered +around him in a grave consultation. They all said to Milenko that +there was still hope; but, one by one, they all left the room, making +the sign of the Cross, and recommending him to God, as if human aid +could do nothing more for him. + +Poor Milenko felt as if all the nerves of his chest had contracted +painfully; life did not seem possible without the friend, the +constant companion of his infancy. + +As it was agreed that Danko Kvekvic should stay up with the old monk, +all the other caloyers went off to sleep; but presently one of the +younger brothers came in, bearing a tray of fragrant coffee, cooked +in the Turkish fashion. + +"Oh, thank you!" said Kvekvic, rubbing his hands, "I think you must +have guessed my wishes, for, to tell you the truth, I was actually +pining for a draught of that exhilarating beverage, one of the few +good things we owe to the enemies of our creed, for, in fact, I know +of few beverages that can be compared to a cup of fragrant coffee." + +"As far as luxuries go, the Turks are certainly our masters; not only +in confectionery, in sweet-scented sherbet, but even in cooking we +are rude barbarians compared to them." + +"They certainly are hedonists, who know how to render life +pleasurable." + +"Aye," said the monk, sternly, "theirs is the broad path leading to +perdition." Then, after a slight pause, he added: "What is that book +thou hast brought with thee, Blagoslav?" + +"I thought," replied the young man, somewhat bashfully, "I might help +you to pass your long vigil by reading to you; that is, of course, if +it be agreeable to you." + +The poor fellow stammered, and stopped, seeing the little success his +proposal seemed to elicit. + +"Blagoslav," retorted the old man, gravely, "vanity caused the +archangel's downfall, and vanity is thy besetting sin. Blagoslav, +thou knowest that thou readest well, for thou hast too often been +praised for it, and now thou seizest every opportunity to hear the +sound of thine own voice, which, I freely grant, is a pleasant one." + +"Let us hear it, then," said Danko Kvekvic, kindly; "besides, I +firmly believe that brother Blagoslav's intentions were good and----" + +"Danko Kvekvic," said the old man, gruffly, "you are not a general +favourite and an important man in Budua for nothing; you have the +evil knack of flattering people's foibles." + +"Come, come!" said the priest, good-humouredly, "should we pat a cat +on the right side or on the wrong side?" Then, turning to Blagoslav, +he added: "I, for myself, shall be thankful to you for beguiling away +the long hours by reading something to us." + +The young man, who had stood with his eyes cast down, and as still as +a statue, sat down on a stool by the table and opened his book. + +"What volume of ancient lore have you there?" asked the priest, +pleasantly. + +"'The Lives of the Saints,' written by a holy monk of our order." +Then, looking up at the old monk, "Which Life shall I read?" he +asked. + +"Begin with that of our patron saint, Prince George of Cappadocia. It +is a holy legend, which we, of course, all know, for the peasant +often sings it at his plough, the shepherds say it to one another +whilst tending their sheep, and"--turning to Milenko--"I suppose you, +too, have often recited it at the helm when keeping your watch on the +stormy sea." + +"Yes, and invoked his holy name in the hour of danger." Thereupon +Milenko crossed himself, and the others followed suit. + +"It is one of our oldest legends; still, always a very pleasant one +to hear, especially if it is well read. But, before you begin, +Blagoslav, let me first set the sufferer's pillow straight and +administer to his wants; then we shall listen to your reading without +disturbing you." + +The old man suited his actions to his words--felt Uros' pulse, gave +him with a spoon some drops of cordial, and afterwards sat down. + +"Now we are ready," said he to the young monk. + +Blagoslav thereupon began as follows:-- + + +PISMA SVETOGA JURJE. + +THE SONG OF ST. GEORGE + + All hail, O Bosnia! fairest of all lands, + Renowned throughout the world since many an age; + The springtide of the year renews thy bloom, + And with the spring St. George's Day is nigh. + He was the greatest glory of the Cross, + Who taught our fathers Christ's most holy creed. + Now God again has granted us His gifts-- + The life-awakening dews, the greenwood shade, + The sun's bright rays which warm the fruitful meads, + And melt the snow that lingers still a while + Upon the high and hoary mountain-tops; + The flowers fair that grow amongst the grass, + The blood-red rose that sheds its fragrance far, + The tawny swallows, from the sunny South, + That twitter sweetly 'neath the thatchèd eaves, + Are all the gifts that God sends every year + To Bosnia. Still He grants a greater boon; + This is the gladsome day of great St. George. + For though our land can boast of valiant knights, + Of warlike princes, eke of holy men, + Still greater far than all was _voyvod_ George + Who whilom was of Cappadocia Duke. + He killed the grisly dragon that of yore + Laid waste the land around Syrene's white walls, + And freed the country from a fearful scourge. + Far down a lake full many fathoms deep, + There dwelt this dragon dreadful to behold; + For from his round red eyes he shot forth flames, + And spouted from his snout a sooty smoke + That burnt and blasted all around the mere. + This dragon daily slew those daring knights, + Who, mounted all on prancing, warlike steeds + Had gone to try their strength against the beast; + For on his ghastly green and scaly skin + They bent and broke, or blunted, their best blades, + As striking on the dragon's horrid hide + Was worse than hitting at a coat of mail, + Or cleaving some hard, flinty rock in twain; + So, therefore, like an Eastern potentate, + He reigned and ruled the region round Syrene. + It was a terror-striking sight to see + The horrid beast rise out in snaky coils, + And rear his head with widely-gaping mouth, + As towards the town he hissed with such a din + That shook the strong and battlemented walls; + Thereon to satisfy his hungry maw. + The craven townsfolk, all appalled with fear, + Would--as a dainty morsel--send the beast + Some lovely maiden in the prime of youth. + If naught was offered to the famished beast, + He lifted up his huge and bat-like wings, + And flapping, leapt upon the town's white walls; + There, gripping 'twixt his sharp and cruel claws, + Whoever stood thereby within his reach, + He mauled and maimed, and gulped down men by scores, + Until the ground seemed all around to be + A marsh of mangled flesh and muddy gore, + With skulls half split and jagged, splintered bones. + When each and every man within the town + Had offered up his child unto the fiend, + And every mother wept from early morn, + And saw at night her child in dreadful dreams, + They told the King his turn had come at last + To offer up his daughter to the beast-- + His cherished child, the apple of his eye, + The only heir of all his wide domains. + Oh! brother mine, hadst thou but seen just then + The hot and blinding tears rush from his eyes, + Whilst cruel grief convulsed his manly frame; + At such a woful sight you would have thought + It was some abject woman, not a King, + Who, crouching low, was sobbing on the ground. + He kissed his child and said: "My daughter dear, + Woe worth the day that thou art reft from me! + For now, alas! who is to wear my crown, + Who is to grace my throne when thou art gone?" + When last he ceased to weep, he bade the maids + To deck his daughter out in richest dress, + With costly Orient pearls and priceless gems, + E'en as she were to wed the mighty Czar; + And then he said: "My daughter, as thy suite, + Take thou with thee my dukes, my noblest peers, + And likewise all the ladies of the land, + In sable garments clad to grace thy steps. + Still, let us hope some help may come at last, + And, meanwhile, pray the great god Alkoron. + In dire distress all earthly help is vain; + Alone, thy god may come to thy behest + And free thee from the dreadful dragon's claws." + The mother hugged her daughter to her heart, + The forlorn father blessed his weeping child, + Who then departed to her dismal doom; + And as she crossed the squares, the crowded streets, + The flutes and timbrels played a wailing dirge, + That might have melted e'en a heart of stone. + Behind her walked the lords of high degree, + Then all the noble ladies of the land, + All clad in widow's weeds and trailing veils. + It was, indeed, a grand and glorious sight + To witness all this pageantry of woe, + The stately show of grief, the pomp of tears. + The sun that shone upon the Princess's robes, + Now glittered brightly on the gold brocade; + Her eight rings sparkled all with costly gems, + For each alone was worth at least eight towns; + Her shining girdle, wrought of purest gold, + Was studded o'er with coral and turquoise; + Around her throat she wore a row of pearls, + Iridescent, all brought from far-off seas. + Upon her brow she bore the regal gem, + Which glittered in the sun with such a sheen + That every eye was dazzled by its light. + The maid, moreover, was of beauty rare, + Of tall and slender form, yet stately mien, + And graceful as the topmost bough that bends, + Or branchlet bowing 'neath the summer breeze; + Within her hand she held some lilies white, + The symbols of a young and modest maid. + She crossed with tearful eyes the crowded streets; + With grace she greeted every child she met, + And all--whose hearts were not as cold as clay-- + Shed bitter tears at such a sight of woe, + And sighing, said: "Alas, her mother dear!" + At last when she had almost reached the lake, + The mighty dukes, her father's noble peers, + As well as every lady of her suite, + Appalled with fear, now bade her all farewell, + And hastened back to town before the beast + Arose from out the mere to seize his prey. + Now, God Almighty chose to show His love + Not only to the crowd that stood aghast, + But unto all the region round Syrene. + He, therefore, sent His servant, saintly George, + To turn them from their evil ways to Christ. + The Knight came to the mere just when the maid + Remained alone to weep upon her fate, + Forsaken as she seemed by God and man. + The Knight, who saw her from afar, sped on + With all due haste; then leaping from his steed, + He strode up by her side and asked her why + She stood there by the lake appalled, aghast. + For all reply the Princess only sobbed, + And with her hand she bade him quickly go. + "Can I afford no help?" then asked the Knight. + "Flee fast away, spur on your sprightly steed; + With all due haste, take shelter in the town; + Uprising from the waters of the lake, + The hungry dragon now doth take his meal; + So hie thee hence. Just see, the waters move; + Thou hast no time to tarry here to speak." + But George, undaunted by her words, replied: + "Fair maiden, dry your eyes and trust in me. + Or rather trust in God, who sent me here." + "What shall I do, fair Knight?" the maid replied. + "Forswear," he answered, "all thy gods of clay, + And bow with meekness to the name of Christ, + Whose Cross we bear to reach a better life; + For, with His mighty help, I hope to slay + The hellish beast that haunts this lonely land; + So, therefore, stand aside and let me fight." + Now, when the girl had heard these words of hope, + She hastened to reply unto the saint, + "If God doth grant thee superhuman might, + That wonders as the like thou canst achieve; + If thou hast strength enough to slay the fiend + And free me from this awful fate of mine, + I shall forsake my god, false Alkoron, + And bow with thee unto thine own true God, + Extolling Him as mightier of the two. + If thou wilt also show me how the sign + Of that most mystic Cross is made, Sir Knight, + I shall then cross myself both morn and eve. + Moreover, thou shalt have most costly gifts, + As well as all the gems I bear on me." + She had but hardly uttered these few words + When, lo! the waters blue began to heave, + And bubble up with foam, and then the beast + Upreared on high his dark and scaly head, + That looked just like some sharp and jagged cliff, + 'Gainst which small shipwrecked smacks are dashed at night. + Then, rising from the lake, the horrid beast + Began to spout the water like a whale, + And bellow with a loud, appalling noise, + Just like the crocodiles that lurk unseen + Amongst the sedges growing by the Nile; + The roaring ended in a hollow moan, + As when the hot simoon begins to blow + In fitful blasts across the Libyan plain. + The Princess stood thereby and shook with fear; + She almost fainted at that dreadful sight. + St. George's warlike steed began to rear, + And prance and tremble; then it tried to flee; + But curbing it with might, and wheeling round, + The Knight with clashing strokes attacked the beast. + His sabre, striking on that scaly skin, + Struck forth a shower of sparks that glittered bright + Like ocean spray tossed by the wind at night, + Or glowing iron 'neath the smithy's sledge, + Or when the kindling steel is struck 'gainst flint. + The monster lifted then its leathern wings + And, bat-like, tried to fly. It only looked + Like some old hen alighting from its perch; + With flutt'ring wings outspread it floundered down, + And was about to fall upon the Knight + And crush him 'neath its huge and massy weight; + Or grasp him with its sharp and cruel claws, + Just as an eagle pounces on a lamb. + But George, invoking Mary to his help, + Bent down and wheeled aside; then with one stroke + He plunged his sword within the dragon's side, + Just near the heart, beneath the massy wings. + A flood of dark red blood at once gushed out, + Which forthwith tinged the water with this gore. + The monster yelled aloud with such a din + That shook the white and battlemented walls + Then, writhing like a trodden newt or worm + It wallowed in the dust and seemed to die. + But still, before the dragon passed away, + The Knight undid his long and silken scarf, + And bound it round the monster's scaly neck; + He handed then the scarf unto the maid, + Who now drove on the dragon like a lamb. + They both went through the gate within the town, + Between the gaping crowd that stood aside + To let them pass, amazed at such a sight; + And thus they crossed the streets and crowded squares, + Until they reached the lofty palace gate. + There 'neath the pillared portal stood the King, + Who stared astounded at the sight he saw. + The saintly Knight alighted from his steed, + And bowing low, he said in accents clear: + "Believe in God the Father, mighty King, + Believe in God the Son, and God the Holy Ghost; + Forsake for aye thy lying gods of clay, + And Sire, let all Syrene with bended knee, + Confess the Lord and make the mystic sign + Of Jesus Christ, who died upon the Cross. + If thou provoke the anger of the Lord, + Far greater scourges might then hap to thee." + The King, who saw his own dear child alive, + Shed tears of joy and clasped her to his heart, + And gladly then--and without more ado-- + There in the midst of all the gathered crowd, + With all his Court, he made the mystic sign + That scares the foe of man in darkest hell; + Then bowing down confessed the name of Christ. + Thereon the saint unsheathed the mighty sword, + And with a blow struck off the scaly head. + The dragon, that till then had scourged the town, + Lay wriggling low amidst the throes of death, + And wallowed in a pool of dark red blood, + Emitting a most foul and loathsome smell. + Still, at the ghastly sight all stared well pleased, + Nay, some threw stones and hit the dying beast, + For 'gainst a fallen foe; the vile are brave. + And during all this time the kind old King + Had tried to show the gratitude he felt; + He led the saint within his palace halls, + For there he hoped to grant him many a boon. + "Thou art, indeed," said he, "most brave and true, + Endowed by God with superhuman might, + And as a token of my heartfelt thanks + Accept this chain of gold, for 'tis the meed + Of daring deeds, the like of which thou didst. + This diamond ring till now adorned my hand; + I give it thee. Besides, my gallant Knight, + One half of all my land will now be thine; + Nor even then can I requite thy worth, + Except by granting thee my only child, + My darling daughter, as thy loving bride." + The saint, however, thanked for all these gifts, + And bowing low, he said unto the King: + "Thy gratitude to God alone is due, + For I am but a tool within His hand; + 'Tis He who sent me here to kill the beast, + That hell had sent to waste and scourge your land. + Without His help, a man is but a reed, + A blade of grass that bends beneath the breeze, + A midge that ne'er outlives a single night; + To thy distress He lent a listening ear, + And freed thee from that foul and fiendish beast. + Then dash thy foolish gods of stone and brass, + Build shrines and temples, praise His holy name. + Still, for thy gifts accept my heartfelt thanks; + My task, howe'er, is that to go and preach + The name of Jesus Christ from town to town. + To Persia straightway I must wend my way + And there declare the love of God to man." + Thereon he took his leave and went away + To preach in distant lands a better life; + Converting men of high and low degree. + To Alexandra, who then reigned in Rome, + He bore the tidings of Christ's holy name; + And God e'er granted to this _voyvod_ saint + The might of working strange and wond'rous deeds. + At last he met a saintly martyr's death, + And shed his precious blood for Jesus Christ. + To Thee, St. George, we now devoutly pray, + To be our intercessor with the Lord, + That He vouchsafe His mercy to us all. + + + + +CHAPTER XIX + +THE "KARVA TAJSTVO" + + +The sun had already set as Mara and her friend left the convent gates +and slowly wended their way homewards. The mother's heart was heavily +laden with grief, for although the holy men had done their best to +comfort and encourage her, still doubt oppressed her, and she kept +asking herself whether she would still find her son alive on the +morrow. Now the darkness which slowly spread itself over the open +country, and rendered the surrounding rocks of a gloomier hue, the +broad, blue sea of a dull, leaden tint, only made her sadness more +intense. + +Dusk softens the human heart; it opens it to those tender emotions +unfelt during the struggle of the day, whilst the raging sun pouring +from above enkindles the fierce passions lurking in the heart. That +dimness which spreads itself over the world at nightfall, wrapping it +up as in a vaporous shroud, has a mystic power over our nature. That +clear obscure mistiness seems to open to the mind's eye the distant +depths of borderland; we almost fancy we can see dim, shadowy figures +float past before us. The most sceptic man becomes religious, +superstitious and spiritual at gloaming. + +The two women hardly spoke on their way; both of them prayed for the +sufferer lying in the convent; but whilst they prayed their minds +often wandered from Uros to Milena, who had been left at home ailing. +When they arrived at the gates of the town night had already set in. +Mara hastened home with her friend, but Milena was not there; they +both went to Radonic's house to look for her. They were afraid lest, +in her state of health, she might have heard of her husband's death. + +A dreary night awaited the women there. After the child had left her, +Milena, who had fallen into a swoon, had been delivered of a son; but +the infant, uncared for, and finding the world bleak and desolate, +had fled away, without even waiting for the holy water and the salt +to speed it forth to more blessed regions. + +Milena had only been roused to life by the throes of childbirth, and +no sooner had her deliverance taken place than she again fainted +away. + +Mara's neighbour having, in the meanwhile, been informed by her +little boy of Milena's illness, hastened at once to her help. +Moreover, on her way thither, she called the _babica_ (or midwife), +but when she reached Radonic's house, she found the new-born infant a +cold corpse and the mother apparently dead. The two women did their +utmost to recall Milena to life, but all their skill was of no avail. +At last, at their wits' end, a passer-by was hailed and begged to go +for the doctor at once. + +When Mara came, all hopes of rousing Milena to life had been +despaired of, but what the skill of the scientific practitioner and +of the wise old woman could not bring about, was effected simply by +Mara's presence. After Uros' mother had stood some time by her side, +stroking her hair, pressing her hand on the sufferer's clammy +forehead, and whispering endearing words in her ear, Milena opened +her eyes. Seeing Mara standing beside her, the sight of that woman +whom she loved, and whose son she doated on, slowly roused her to +life. Consciousness, little by little, crept back within her. When +she heard from the mother's lips that Uros was not dead, nay, that +there was hope of his recovery, she whispered: + +"If I could only see him once more, then I should be but too happy to +die." + +After this slight exertion she once more fainted, but she was soon +afterwards brought back again to life, and Mara then was able to make +her take the cordial the doctor had prepared for her. + +A few hours later, when the physician took his leave for the night, +prescribing to the women what they were to do, he and the midwife +warmly congratulated each other, not doubting that their skill had +snatched the young woman out of the jaws of death. + +After a night of pain and restlessness, Milena, early on the next +morning, exhausted as she was, fell into a quiet, death-like sleep. +Mara then left her to return to the Convent of St. George to see if +Uros were still alive and how he was getting on. Milenko's mother +went with her. They had not been away long when Milena, shuddering, +uttered a loud cry of terror, sat up in her bed and looked straight +in front of her. + +"What is the matter?" said the midwife, running up to the bedside. + +"Don't you see him standing there?" cried the awe-stricken woman. + +"There is nobody, my dear; nobody at all." + +"Yes! Radonic, my husband, all covered with wounds! He is dying--he +is dead!" and Milena, appalled, stared wildly at the foot of the bed. + +"It is your imagination; your husband is with your father at +Cettinje." + +"No, no; I tell you he's there; help him, or he'll bleed to death!" +and the poor woman, exhausted, fell back on her bed unconscious. + +The midwife shuddered, for, although she saw nobody, she was quite +sure that the apparition seen by Milena was no fancy of an overheated +brain, but Radonic's ghost, that had come to visit his wife, for the +news of the _heyduk_'s death had been carefully withheld from Milena. + +The midwife went to the fount of holy water, took the blessed sprig +of olive which was over it, dipped it into the fount and sprinkled +the bed and the place where the ghost had stood, uttering all the +while the appropriate prayer for the purpose. Then she sprinkled +Milena, and made the sign of the Cross over her. After that she gave +her some drops of cordial, and little by little brought her back to +her senses, vowing all the while not to remain alone again in that +haunted house. + +When Milena recovered, "My husband is dead, is he not?" she asked. + +"But--no," said the midwife, hesitatingly. + +"You know he is. Did you not see him standing there? He had one wound +on the head and several in the breast." + +The elderly woman did not answer. + +"When did he die?" quoth Milena. + +"Some days ago; but----" + +"He was killed by the Turks, was he not?" + +"Yes." + +"Why did no one tell me?" + +"Because they were afraid to upset you." + +"He is dead," said Milena to herself, staring at the spot where she +had seen her husband, "dead!" Then she heaved a deep sigh of relief. + +The midwife tried to comfort her, but she did not seem to heed her +words. + +"My babe is dead, all are dead!" + +Presently the doctor came in to see how she was getting on. + +"Is Uros dead?" was Milena's first question. + +"No, he is still alive; a message came from the convent this +morning." + +"But is there any hope of recovery?" + +"If he has lasted on till to-day he may yet pull through; he is young +and healthy." + +"Can I get up to-day?" asked Milena, wistfully. + +"Get up?" asked the doctor, astonished. + +"Yes." + +"Did you hear her?" said the physician, turning towards the midwife. +"She asks if she can get up. Yes, you can get up if you wish to kill +yourself." + +A look of determination settled in the young woman's eyes; but +neither the doctor nor the midwife noticed it. + +"Anyhow, it is a good sign when the patient asks if he can get up, +except in consumption," added the physician, taking his leave. "If +you keep very quiet, and lie perfectly still, without tossing about +and fretting, you'll be able to get up in a few days." + +Milena pressed her lips, but did not say anything in reply; only, +after a little time: + +"Do I look very ill?" + +"No, not so very ill, either." + +"Give me that looking-glass," she added. + +The midwife hesitated. + +"Is that the way you are going to lie still and get well; you must +know that yesterday you were very ill." + +"I know; but please hand me the looking-glass." + +The midwife did as she was bid. Milena took up the glass and looked +at herself scrutinisingly, just like an actor who has made up his +face. + +"I am very much altered, am I not?" + +"Oh, but it'll be all over in one or two days! Wait till to-morrow, +and----" + +"But to-day I think people would hardly recognise me?" + +"Oh, it is not quite as bad as that! besides----" + +Milena opened her eyes questioningly, and looked at the midwife. + +"I care very little whether I am good-looking or not; whom have I to +live for now?" + +"Come, you must not give up in that way. You are but a child, and +have seen but little happiness up to now; you are rich, free, +handsome; you'll soon find a husband, only don't talk, take a cup of +this good broth, and try to go to sleep." + +"Very well, but I know you are busy, so go home and send me your +daughter; she can attend upon me; besides, _gospa_ Markovic will soon +be here." + +The midwife hesitated. + +"Go," said Milena; "I'll feel quieter if you go." + +"But you must promise me to keep very quiet, and not to attempt, on +any account, to get up." + +"Certainly," said Milena; "the doctor said I was not to rise; why +should I disobey him? Besides, where have I to go?" + +The midwife, after having tucked her patient carefully in bed and +made her as cosy as she could, went off, saying that her daughter +would soon come to her. + +Milena, with anxious eyes and a beating heart, watched the midwife, +and, at last, saw her go away and close the door after her. She +waited for some time to see that she did not return; then she +gathered up all her strength, and tried to rise. + +It was, however, a far more difficult task than she had expected, for +she fancied that she had fallen from the top of a high mountain into +a chasm beneath, and that every bone in her body had been broken to +splinters. If she had been crushed under horses' hoofs, she could not +have felt a greater soreness all over her body. Still, rise she +would, and she managed to crawl slowly out of her bed. + +Her legs, at first, could hardly hold her up; the nerves and muscles +had lost all their strength, she fancied the bones had got limp; her +back, especially, seemed to be gnawed by hungry dogs. + +Having managed to get over her first fit of faintness, she, holding +on to the bed and against the wall, succeeded in dragging herself +towards the table and dropped into a chair. + +She sat there for a while, making every effort to overcome her +faintness, but she felt so sick, so giddy, and in such pain, that her +head sank down on the table of its own weight, and she burst out +crying from sheer exhaustion. + +When she had somewhat recovered, she slowly undid her long tresses, +and her luxuriant hair fell in waves down to the ground. She shook +her head slightly, as if to disentangle the wavy mass, plunged her +fingers through the locks to separate them, and felt them lovingly, +uttering a deep sigh of regret as she did so; then after a moment's +pause, she shrugged her shoulders, took up a pair of scissors, and, +without more ado, she clipped the long tresses as close to her head +as she possibly could, carefully placing each one on the table as she +cut it off. Then she felt her head, which seemed so small, so cold, +and so naked; she took up a mirror with a trembling hand and +quivering lips pulled down at each corner. After she had seen her own +reflection in the glass, she burst into tears. She had hardly put +down the mirror, when Frana, the midwife's daughter, came in. + +The young girl, seeing Milena, whom she had expected to find in bed, +sitting on the chair with all her hair clipped off, remained rooted +to the spot where she was standing. + +"Milena, dear, is it you?" + +"Yes," replied Milena, mournfully. + +"But why did you get up? and why have you cut off your beautiful +hair?" asked the midwife's daughter, scared. + +"My hair burdened my head; I could not bear the weight any more; +besides----" + +The young girl looked at Milena, wondering whether she were in her +right senses, or if the grief of having lost her husband and her +child had not driven her to distraction. + +"Besides what, Milena?" + +"Well, I am not for long in this world, you know!" + +"Do not say such foolish things; and let me help you back to bed." + +Milena shook her head, and fixing her large and luminous deep blue +eyes on the young girl, she said, wistfully: + +"Listen, Frana. Uros is dying, perhaps he is dead! I must see him +once more. I must go to him, even if I have to die on the way +thither!" + +"What! go to the Convent of St. George?" + +Milena nodded assent. + +"But what are you thinking about? How can you, in your state, think +of going there?" + +"I must, even if I should have to crawl on all-fours!" + +"But if you got there, if I carried you there, they would never let +you go in; you know women----" + +"Yes, they will; that's why I've cut off my hair." + +"I don't understand." + +"I'll dress up as a boy; you'll come with me; you'll say I'm your +brother, and Uros' friend. You'll do that for me, Frana?" + +And Milena lifted up her pleading eyes, which now seemed larger than +ever and lighted up with an inward ethereal fire. + +The young girl seemed to be hypnotised by those entreating eyes. + +"But where will you find the clothes you want?" + +"If you can't get me your brother's, then borrow or buy a suit for +me; but go at once. You must get me a cap, and all that is required, +but go at once." + +"Very well; only, in the meantime, go to bed, take some broth, and +wait till I return." + +"But you promise to come back as quickly as you can?" + +"Yes, if you are determined to put your life in danger, and----" + +"And what?" + +"If you don't care what people say." + +"Frana, if ever you love a man as I love Uros, you will see that you +will care very little for your own life, and still less for what +people might say about you." + +Frana helped Milena to go to bed again. She made her take a cup of +broth, with the yolk of an egg beaten into it; placed, on a chair by +her bed, a bowl of mulled wine, which she was to take so as to get up +her strength; put away the long locks of hair lying on the table, and +at last she went off. + +Presently, Milenko's mother came to see Milena, and stayed with her +till Frana returned, and then she was persuaded to go back home. When +she had gone, Frana undid the bundle she had brought, took out a +jacket, a pair of wide breeches and leggings, the _opanke_; lastly, +the small black cap with its gold-embroidered crimson crown. + +Frana helped Milena to dress, and, in her weak state, the operation +almost exhausted her. The broad sash, tightly wound round her waist, +served to keep her up, and, leaning on Frana's arm, she left the +house. + +"I have managed to find a cart for you, so we need not cross the +town, but go round the walls, in order that you may not be seen; +besides, the cart will take us to the foot of the mountain, not far +from the convent." + +"How shall I ever be able to thank you enough for what you have done +for me, Frana?" + +"By getting over your illness as quickly as possible, for if any harm +should come of it my mother 'll never forgive me, and I don't blame +her." + +The sun was in the meridian when the cart arrived at the foot of the +mountain and the two friends alighted. As they climbed the rough and +uneven path leading up to the convent, Milena, though leaning on +Frana's strong arm, had more than once to stop and rest, for at every +step she made the pain in every joint, in every muscle, was most +acute. It seemed as if all the ligaments that bind the bones of the +skeleton together had snapped asunder, and that her body was about to +fall to pieces. Then she felt a smarting, a fire that was burning +within her bowels, and which increased at every effort she made; in +fact, had it not been for the young girl, she would either have sunk +by the roadside or crawled up--as she had said herself--on all-fours. + +Her head also was aching dreadfully, her temples were throbbing, and +she was parched with fever. Her limbs sank every now and then beneath +her weight; still, her love and her courage kept her up, and she +trudged along without uttering a word of complaint. At last they +reached the convent. Then her strength gave way. Anxiety, pain and +shame overpowered her, and she fell fainting on the threshold. Frana +summoned help; but, before the monks came, Milena had recovered, and +was sitting down on a bench to rest. + +In the meanwhile Uros was lingering on--a kind of death in life; the +vital flame was flickering, but not entirely extinguished; the ties +that fastened the soul to life were still strong. Towards midnight he +had sat up in his bed, and--as the monks thought--the Virgin and +Christ had appeared to him, then he had, for some time, not given any +further signs of consciousness. Nay, the monks were so sure the +sufferer was passing away, that they, in fact, began reciting the +prayers for the dying. They did so with much fervour, regarding Uros +almost as a saint, for never had mortal man been so highly favoured +by the Deity. Little by little, however, life, instead of ebbing +away, seemed to return; but the sufferer's mind was quite lost. + +In the morning, first his father had come, together with his friend +Janko, and a little while afterwards Mara came. + +The monks related to the wondering parents how the Virgin had +appeared, bringing with her the infant Christ for him to kiss. +Milenko, however, kept his peace, feeling sure that if he expressed +an opinion as to the weird apparition, his words would be regarded as +blasphemy. + +Coming to himself, Uros recognised his parents, and as Mara bent upon +him to kiss his brows: + +"Milena," whispered Uros, almost inaudibly. + +"Milenko," said the mother, "he wants you." + +"No," said Milenko, softly to Mara, "it is not me he wants; he has +been calling for Milena since he has been coming back to life. I am +sure that her presence would quiet him, and, who knows? perhaps add +to his recovery." + +The poor mother said nothing; she only patted her boy's brown hand, +which seemed to have got whiter and thinner in this short space of +time. + +"I think it is so hard to refuse him a thing upon which he has set +his heart," said Milenko, pleadingly. + +Mara still gave no answer. + +"Perhaps I am wrong in mentioning it--but you do not know how dearly +he loved this cousin of his." + +Mara's eyes filled with tears. + +"Could these priests not be persuaded to let her come in just for a +moment?" + +"Milena is too ill to come here; in fact----" + +"Is she dead?" asked the young man. + +"No, not dead, but as ill as Uros himself is." + +"What is the matter with her?" asked Milenko. + +Mara whispered something in the young man's ear. + +Danilo Kvekvic had left the sufferer to attend to his own duties. All +the monks of the convent had, one by one, come to recite an orison by +the bedside, as at some miraculous shrine; then Uros was left to the +care of his parents; even the old monk, after administering to the +young man's wants, had gone to take some rest. + +For some time the room was perfectly quiet; Mara and Milenko were +whispering together in subdued tones; the _pobratim_'s fathers stood +outside. + +After a little while Uros began to be delirious, and to speak about +Radonic and Vranic, who were going to kill Milena. + +"There, you see, she is dying; let me go to her. Why do you hold me +here? Unhand me; you see she is alone--no one to attend upon her." +(The remainder of his words were unintelligible.) + +The tears rolled down Mara's cheeks, for she thought that her son's +words were but too true; at that moment Milena was probably dying. + +"She came to me for help, and I----" + +"Milenko," added the delirious man, "get the ship ready; let us take +her away." + +"Yes," said Milenko; "we have only to heave the anchor and be off." + +Uros thereupon made an effort to get up, but the pain caused by his +wound was so great that he fell fainting on his bed with a deep moan. + +The two men standing at the door came to the sufferer's bedside. Mara +herself bent over him to assist him. Just then Milenko was called +out--someone was asking for him. + +The fever-fit had subsided. The sufferer, falling back on his pillow, +exhausted, seemed to be slowly breathing his last. + +The tears were falling fast from Mara's eyes. The two men by the bed +were twisting their bristling moustaches, looking helplessly forlorn. +Just then Milenko appeared on the threshold, followed by a wan and +corpse-like boy. Bellacic frowned at the intruder. Mara, at the +sight, started back, opening her eyes widely. + +"You?" said she. + +Milena's head drooped down. Milenko put his arm round her waist to +keep her up. + +"You here, my child?" added Mara, opening her arms and clasping the +young woman within them. + +Milena began to sob in a low voice. + +"The blessed Virgin must have given you supernatural strength, my +poor child; still, you have been killing yourself." + +Milena did not utter a word. She pressed Mara's hand convulsively; +her face twitched nervously as she looked upon her lover lying +lifelessly on his bed; then (Mara having made way for her) the +exhausted woman sank down upon her chair. + +"I told you," said the old monk, coming in, "that in your weak, +exhausted state it was not right for you to see your friend, but +nowadays," added he, in a grumbling tone, "young people are so +headstrong that they will never do what is required of them for their +own good. Now that you have seen him, I hope that you are satisfied +and will come out." + +"Just let me stay a little longer, till he comes to himself again, +only a very few minutes," said Milena, imploringly, and clasping her +hands in supplication. + +"Please let him stay; Uros 'll be so glad to see him when he opens +his eyes. He'll keep very quiet till then." + +"Be it so," said the monk; "only the room is getting too crowded. The +best cure for a sick man is sympathy and fresh air." + +"You are right," said Milenko, "but I give up my place to him; +besides, I have some business in town." + +As Bellacic accompanied the _pobratim_ out-- + +"Where are you going?" said he. + +"To find out Vranic, and settle accounts with him." + +"No, no! Wait!" said the father. + +"Wait! for what?" + +"Let us not think of vengeance as long as Uros lives." + +Milenko did not seem persuaded; Bellacic insisted: + +"Don't let us provoke the wrath of the Almighty by more bloodshed." + +As they were thus discussing the matter, the doctor from Budua +arrived, having been sent by Danilo Kvekvic at the request of the +monks. + +The old practitioner, the same one who had attended Milena, looked at +Uros, shook his head gravely, as if he would say: "There is no hope +whatever;" then he touched the sufferer's pulse and examined his +wound. He approved of the treatment he had received, and then, after +a few moments' brown study, and after taking a huge pinch of snuff, as +if to clear his head, he said, slowly, that all human effort was +vain; the young man could not last more than a few hours--till +eventide, or, at the longest, during the night. + +"Umph!" grunted the old man, shrugging his shoulders; "he is in the +hands of God." + +"Of course, of course. We are all in the hands of God." + +"I thought," added the caloyer, "he would not pass yesterday night, +especially after the Most Blessed appeared to him, holding her Infant +in her arms." + +"What!" said the doctor; "you mean to say that the Virgin appeared to +him?" + +"Of course, and I was not the only one who saw her, for, besides, +Blagoslav, Danko Kvekvic, and this young man"--pointing to Milenko +--"were also in the room." + +"Then God may perform another miracle in his favour," said the +doctor, incredulously, "for he is beyond all earthly skill." + +Uros, in fact, was sinking fast, and, although the old man clung to +hope, still the doctor's words seemed but too true. After some time +the sufferer seemed to give signs of consciousness, and when Milena +placed her thin white hand on his forehead, he felt the slight +pressure of her fingers, and, with his eyes closed, said: + +"Milena, are _you_ here?" and a faint smile played over his lips. + +"Yes, my love," whispered Milena, "I am here." + +Uros opened his eyes, looked at her, and seemed bewildered at the +change which had come over her; still, he said nothing for a while, +but was evidently lost in thought, after which he added: + +"Milena, have you been here all night?" + +"No, I only came here just now." + +"You look ill--very ill; I thought you were dying." + +Milena kissed his hand, bathing it with tears. Uros once more sank +down on his bed exhausted; still, after a few moments' rest, he again +opened his eyes and looked round for his father. Bellacic understood +the mute appeal, and bent down over him. + +"Father," said he, "I don't think I am in this world for a long time. +I feel that all my strength is gone; but before----" + +The father bent low over his son. + +"Before what?" he asked. + +"Before dying----" + +"Well, my son?" + +"Will you promise, father?" + +"Yes, I promise; but what is it you want, my darling?" + +"To be married to Milena," he said, with an effort. + +The tears trickled down the elderly man's sunburnt cheeks. + +"I promise to do my utmost," said he. + +He at once turned round and explained the whole affair to his wife. +Milena, who seemed to have guessed Uros' request, had hid her face in +her hands and was sobbing. Thereupon Bellacic left the room and went +to find the old monk, who had gone out with the doctor. Taking him +aside, he explained the matter to him. + +"What!" said the old monk, "bring another woman into the convent, and +a young woman besides?" + +"Oh, there is no need to bring her in!" + +"What do you mean?" + +"She is already in," replied Bellacic, unable to refrain from +smiling. + +"How did she come in? When did she come in? And with whom did she +come in?" asked the caloyer, angrily. + +"She came in just before the doctor; you yourself accompanied her." + +The old man stared at Bellacic. + +"She is the one who came in dressed in boy's clothes; the midwife's +daughter accompanied her as far as the----" + +"What! do you mean to say that there are three women, and that one of +them is a midwife?" quoth the monk, shocked. + +Bellacic explained matters. The caloyer consented that Danilo Kvekvic +should be sent for to perform the wedding rites _in extremis_, +provided Milena left the convent together with Mara that very +evening, and did not return again on the morrow. Bellacic, moreover, +having promised to give the church a fine painting, representing the +Virgin Mary as she had appeared to Uros the evening before, the whole +affair was settled to everyone's perfect satisfaction. + +Mara, who had taken Milena into the adjoining room, said to her: + +"Uros has made his father a strange request, and Bellacic has +consented; for who can gainsay a dying man's wish?" + +"I know," said Milena, whose lips were twitching nervously. + +"He wishes to be married to you." + +Milena fell into Mara's arms and began to sob. + +"But," said Milena, "I am so frightened." + +"Frightened of what?" + +"My husband." + +Mara, bewildered for a moment, remembered that Milena had never been +told of Radonic's death. + +"I know," continued the young woman, "that he was killed, for he +appeared to me only a few hours ago; and I am so frightened lest he +should be recalled again and scare Uros to death." + +"Oh! if incense is burning the whole time, if many blessed candles +are lighted, and the whole room sprinkled with holy water, the ghost +will never be able to show itself in such a place; besides, my dear, +you know that you were almost delirious, so that the ghost you saw +must have only been your fancy." + +"Still, I did not know that he was dead, and I saw him all covered +with wounds, and as plainly as I see you now; he looked at me so +fiercely----" + +Milena shuddered; her features grew distorted at the remembrance of +the terrible apparition, and, in her weak state, the little strength +left in her forsook her, and she fell fainting into Mara's arms. + +It was with great difficulty that she was brought back to life, and +then she consented to the marriage. + +A messenger was sent to Budua to ask Danilo Kvekvic to come and +officiate, and the midwife's daughter went with him to bring Milena a +dress, as it would have almost been a sacrilege for her to get +married in a boy's clothes. + +Danilo Kvekvic came at once; the young girl brought the clothes and +the wreaths, and everything being ready, the lugubrious marriage +service was performed; still, it was to be gone through once more, +when Uros should have recovered, if he ever did recover. The monks +crowded at the door, looking on wonderingly at the whole affair, for +in their quiet, humdrum life, such a ceremony was an unheard of +thing, and an event affording them endless gossip. + +The emotion Uros had undergone weakened him in such a way that he +fell back fainting. His pulse grew so feeble that it could not be +felt any more; his breathing had evidently stopped, a cold +perspiration gathered on his brow; his features acquired not only the +rigidity, but also the pinched look and livid tint of death. + +"I am afraid that it is the beginning of the end." + +He began once more reciting the prayers for the dying. Danilo Kvekvic +sprinkled him with holy water. All the rest sank on their knees by +the bed. A convulsive sob was heard. Milenko, unable to bear the +scene any longer, rushed out of the room. + +Whilst he was sobbing, and the friars outside were trying to comfort +him, the old monk came out. + +"Well, father?" said the young man, with a terror-stricken face. + +"It is all over," said the old man, shaking his head gravely. + +Milenko uttered a deep groan; then he sank on his knees, kissing the +monk's hand devoutly. + +"Thank you, father, for all that you have done for my brother. If +earthly skill could have recalled him to life, yours would have done +so. Thank you for your kindness to me and to all of us. Now my task +begins; nor do I rest until it is accomplished." + +Unable to keep back the tears that were blinding him, nor the sobs +rising to his throat, he rose and ran out of the convent. + +Arriving at Budua, he went everywhere seeking for Vranic; but he +could not find him anywhere. Nothing positive was known about him; +only, it was said that three children had seen him, or someone +looking like him, outside the city walls. Later on, a young sailor +related that he had rowed a man answering to Vranic's description on +board of a ship bound for the coasts of Italy. The ship, a few hours +afterwards, had sailed off. + +Weary and disheartened, Milenko went home, where he found his father +and mother, who had come back from the convent. + +"Well," said the father, "have you heard anything about Vranic?" + +"He has fled; my vengeance has, therefore, to be postponed. It might +take weeks instead of days to accomplish it; months instead of weeks, +and even years instead of months. But I shall not rest before Vranic +pays with his own blood for his evil deed," said Milenko. + +"You would not be a Slav, nor my son, if you did not act in this way. +Uros had certainly done as much for you." + +"And now," added Milenko, "as I might be called away from this world +before accomplishing this great deed of justice, we must gather, +to-night, such of our friends and relations as will take with us the +terrible oath of blood, the _karva tajstvo_." + +"Be it so," said Janko Markovic. "I, of course, will take the oath +with you, my son, and will help you to the utmost of my power." + +Milenko shook his father's hand, and added: "Danilo Kvekvic will be +the officiating priest. He, being a relation, will not refuse, will +he?" + +"No, certainly not. He may, of course, demur, but by his innuendoes +he led me to understand that he will be waiting for you." + +"He is a real Iugo Slav." + +Milenko and his father busied themselves at once about the great +ceremony. They went to all the relations and friends of the two +families, begging them, now that Uros was dead, to join with them in +taking the oath of revenge against Vranic, the murderer. + +Not a man that was asked refused. All shook hands, and promised to be +at Markovic's house that night, and from there accompany him to the +priest's. + +Night came on. Milenko's mother had gone to sit up with Mara and +Milena; Bellacic had remained to pray at his son's bedside, together +with the good monks. One by one the friends and relations of the +_pobratim_, muffled up like conspirators, knocked at Markovic's door, +and were stealthily allowed to enter. _Slivovitz_ and tobacco were at +once placed before the guests. When they were all gathered together, +and the town was asleep, they crept out quietly and wended their way +through the deserted streets to the priest's house. + +Milenko tapped at the door. + +"They are all asleep at this house," said one of the men; "you must +knock louder." + +Hardly had these words been uttered than a faint ray of light was +seen, and, contrary to their expectations, the door was opened by +Danilo himself. + +"Milenko! You, at this hour of the night? I thought you were at the +convent, reciting prayers over my nephew, your _pobratim_." + +"A _pobratim_ has other duties than praying--the holy monks can do +that even better than myself." + +"But I am keeping you standing at the door; what can I do for you?" + +"We have a request to make, which you will not be surprised at. You +must follow us to church." + +"To church, at this hour of the night?" + +"Yes. We wish--one and all here present--to take the oath of blood +against the murderer." + +"But, my children, think of what you are asking of me. Our religion +commands us to forgive our enemies. Christ----" + +"We are Slavs, Danilo Kvekvic," said one of the men. + +"But Christians, withal, I hope?" + +"Still, vengeance with us is a duty, a sacred duty." + +"I am the _pobratim_," quoth Milenko, "the brother of his choice. Did +I not swear before you to avenge any injury done to Uros, your +nephew? Do you wish me to forget my oath--to perjure myself?" + +"Mind, it is the priest, not the uncle, who speaks," said Danilo, +sternly; "therefore, remember that the _karva tajstvo_ is illegal by +the laws of our country." + +"By the laws of Austria," cried out several of the men, "not by the +laws of our country. We are Slavs, not Austrians." + +"Come, Danilo, we are men, not children; trifling is useless, words +are but lost breath in this matter," said Janko Markovic. "We are +losing time." + +"If you do not follow us with a good will----" + +"I see that you mean to carry out your intentions, and that preaching +is useless; therefore, I am ready to follow you." + +Saying this, he put his cap on his head, and opened the door. + +"And the key?" asked Milenko. + +"What key?" + +"The key of the church." + +"Why, I happen to have it in my pocket." + +The church being opened, what was their surprise to see it draped in +black; but Danilo Kvekvic explained that there had been a funeral +service on that very day, and so the church had remained in its +mourning weeds. + +Thereupon he shut and locked the doors. Some tapers were lighted on +the altar, and the priest, putting on his robes, began to read the +service. + +The few candles shed but a glimmering light in the sacred edifice, +and the small congregation, kneeling on the benches by the altar, +were wrapt in a gloomy darkness which added a horror to the mystery +of the ceremony. + +The service for the dead having been read, Kvekvic knelt and partook +of the Holy Communion; then, lighting two other tapers, he called the +congregation to him. All gathered at the foot of the altar, and knelt +down there. He then took up the chalice, where, according to the +Orthodox rites of the Communion, bread and wine were kneaded +together. Milenko, as the head of the avengers, went up to the altar, +and, bowing before the sacred cup containing the flesh and blood of +Jesus Christ, he made a slight cut in the forefinger of his left +hand, and then caused a few drops of his own blood to fall on the +Eucharist. He was followed by his father, and by all the other +partakers of the oath. When the last man had offered up a few drops +of blood, the priest mixed it up with the consecrated bread and wine +already in the cup. + +"Now," said he, with an inspired voice, "lift up your hands to +heaven, and repeat after me the following oath." + +All the men lifted up their hands, each one holding a piece of Uros' +blood-stained shirt, and then the priest began: + +"By this blessed bread representing the flesh of our Lord Jesus +Christ, by the wine that is His own blood, by the blood flowing from +our own bodies, for the sake of our beloved Uros Bellacic, heinously +murdered, and now sitting amongst the martyrs in heaven, and from +there addressing us his prayers, I, Milenko Markovic, his _pobratim_; +I, Janko Markovic, his father of adoption; I, Marko Lillic, his +cousin" (and so on), "all related or connected to him by the ties of +blood, or of affection, solemnly swear, in the most absolute and +irrevocable manner, not to give our souls any peace, or any rest to +our bodies, until the wishes of the blessed martyr be accomplished by +taking a severe revenge upon his murderer, Josko Vranic, of this +town, on his children (if ever he has any), or, in default, on any of +his relations, friends and acquaintances who might shelter, protect, +or withhold him from our wrath; and never to cease in our intention, +or flag in our pursuit, until we have obtained a complete and cruel +satisfaction, equal, at least, to this crime committed by this common +enemy of ours. We swear to God the Father, God the Son, and God the +Holy Ghost, that not one of us will ever try to evade the dangers his +oath may put him to, or will allow himself to be corrupted by gold or +bribes of the murderer or his family, or will listen with a pitiful +ear to the prayers, entreaties, or lamentations of the person or +persons destined to expiate the crime that has taken place; and, +though his kith-and-kin be innocent of the foul deed perpetrated by +their relation, Josko Vranic, we will turn a deaf ear to their words, +and only feel for them the horror that the deed committed awakes +within us. + +"We swear, moreover, by the blessed Virgin and by all the saints in +heaven, that should any of us here present forget the oath he has +taken, or break the solemn pact of blood, the others will feel +themselves bound to take revenge upon him, even as upon the murderer +of Uros Bellacic; and, moreover, the relations of the perjured man, +justly put to death, will not be able to exact the rites of the +_karvarina_." + +Thereupon, the men having taken the oath, the priest at the altar +sank down on his knees, and, uplifting the chalice, continued as +follows: + +"We pray Thee, omnipotent God, to listen to our oaths, and, moreover, +to help us in fulfilling them. We entreat Thee to punish the murderer +in his own person, and in that of his sons for seven successive +generations; to persecute them with Thy malediction, just as if they +themselves had committed the murder. We solemnly declare that we will +not consider Thee, O Lord, as just; Thee, O Lord, as saintly; Thee, O +Lord, as strong; nor shall we regard Thee, O Lord, as capable of +governing the world, if Thou dost not lend a listening ear to the +eager wishes of our hearts; for our souls are tormented with the +thirst for revenge." + +When they had all finished this prayer, if it can be called a prayer, +they, one by one, went and partook of that loathsome communion of +blood with all the respect and devotion Christians usually have on +approaching the Lord's Table. After that Danilo Kvekvic knelt down +once more, and uplifting his hands in supplication: + +"O Lord, Protector of the oppressed," said he, "Thou punishest all +those who transgress Thy wise laws and offend Thee, for Thou art a +jealous God. Help these parishioners of mine to fulfil an act of +terrestrial justice. Punish, with all Thy wrath, the perpetrator of +so abominable a crime; let him have no rest in this world, and let +his soul burn for ever in hell after his death; scatter his ashes to +the winds, and obliterate the very memory of his existence. Amen." + +"Amen," repeated every man after him. + +Thereupon he blessed them all; and coming down from the altar he +shook hands with each one, no more as a priest, but as a relation of +the murdered youth, and thanked them for the oath they had taken. + +The candles having been put out, the door of the church was +stealthily opened, and, one by one, all the men crept out and +vanished in the darkness of the night. + + + + +CHAPTER XX + +"SPERA IN DIO" + + +After the ceremony of the _karva tajstvo_, all the men who had taken +part in it met together at Janko Markovic's house, so as to come to a +decision as to what they were to do in their endeavours to capture +the murderer. All the information that had been got in Budua about +Vranic helped to show that he had embarked on board of an Italian +ship, the _Diana_, which had sailed the evening of the murder. If +this were the case, nothing could be done for the present but wait +patiently till they could come across him, the communications between +Budua and Naples being few and far between. + +"Well," said Milenko, "I'll sail at dawn for Trieste. It is one of +the best places where I can get some information about this ship. +Moreover, I'll do my best to get a cargo for one of the ports to +which she might be destined, and I must really be very unlucky not to +come across him before the year is out." + +"And," replied Janko Markovic, "if our information is wrong--if, +after all, he's still lurking in this neighbourhood, or hiding +somewhere in Montenegro, we shall soon get at him." + +"We have taken the oath," replied all the friends. + +"Thank you. I'm sure that Uros' death will very soon be avenged." + +_Slivovitz_ and wine were then brought out to drink to the success of +the _karva tajstvo_. + +At the first glimmer of dawn, Milenko bade his mother farewell and +asked her to kiss Mara and Milena for him; then, receiving his +father's blessing, and accompanied by all his friends, he left home +and went to the ship. + +All the cargo had been taken on board several days before, the papers +were in due order, and the ship was now ready to start at a moment's +notice. + +No sooner had Milenko got on board than the sleeping crew was roused, +the sails were stretched, the anchor was heaved, and the ship began +to glide on the smooth surface of the waters. + +"_Srecno hodi_" (a pleasant voyage), shouted the friends, applauding +on the pier. + +"_Z' Bogam_" (God be with you), replied Milenko. + +"_Zivio!_" answered the friends. + +The young captain saw the houses of Budua disappear, with a sigh. A +heaviness came over him as his eyes rested on a white speck gleaming +amidst the surrounding dark rocks. It was the Convent of St. George, +where, in his mind's eye, he could see his dearly beloved Uros lying +still and lifeless on his narrow bed. + +Then a deep feeling of regret came over him. Why had he rushed away, +when his friend had scarcely uttered his last breath? He might have +waited a day or two; Vranic would not escape him at the end. + +Never before--not even the first time he had left home--had he felt +so sad in quitting Budua. He almost fancied now his heart was reft in +two, and that the better part had remained behind with his friend. +Not even the thought of Ivanka, whom he so dearly loved, could +comfort him. A sailor's life--which had hitherto had such a charm for +him while his friend was on board the same ship with him--now lost +all its attraction, and if he had not been prompted by his craving +for revenge, he would have taken the ship to Trieste (where she was +bound to), and there, having sold his share, he would have gone back +to Budua. + +The days seemed endless to him. The crew of the ship, although +composed of Dalmatians, was almost of an alien race; they were from +the island of Lussin, and Roman Catholics besides--in fact, quite +different people from the inhabitants of Budua or the Kotor; and, had +it not been for a youth whom he had embarked with him from his native +town, he would have scarcely spoken to anyone the whole of the +voyage, except, of course, to give the necessary orders. + +No life, indeed, is lonelier than that of a captain having no mate, +boatswain or second officer with him. Fortunately, however, for +Milenko, Peric--the youth he had taken with him to teach him +navigation--was a rather intelligent lad, and, as it was the first +time he had left home, he was somewhat homesick, so, in their moments +of despondency, each one tried to cheer and comfort the other. + +In the night--keeping watch on deck--he would often, as in his +childhood, lean over the side of the ship and look within the fast +flowing waters. When the sea was as smooth and as dark as a metal +mirror, he--after gazing in it for some time--usually saw the water +get hazy and whitish; then, little by little, strange sights appear +and disappear. Some of them were prophetic visions. Once, he saw +within the waters a frigate on fire. It was, indeed, a sight worth +seeing. The vision repeated itself three times. Milenko, feeling +rather anxious, began to look around, and then he saw a faint light +far on the open sea. There was no land or island there. Could that +light, he asked himself, be that of a ship on fire? He at once gave +orders to steer in the direction of the light. As the distance +diminished, the brightness grew apace. The flames, that could now be +seen rising up in the sky, made the men believe that it was some new +submarine volcano. Milenko, however, felt that his vision had been +prophetic. + +He added more sails; and, as the breeze was favourable, the _Spera in +Dio_ flew swiftly on the waters. Soon he could not only see the +flames, but the hulk of the ship, which looked like a burning island; +moreover, the cargo must have been either oil or resin, for the sea +itself seemed on fire. + +In the glare the conflagration shed all around, Milenko perceived a +small boat struggling hard to keep afloat, for it was so over-crowded +that, at every stroke of the oars, it seemed about to sink. + +The joy of that shipwrecked crew, finding themselves safe on board +the _Spera in Dio_, was inexpressible. + +Another time he saw, within the sea, the country beyond the walls of +his native town. A boy of about ten was leading an old horse in the +fields. After some time, the boy seemed to look for some stump on +which to tether the horse he had led to pasture; but, finding none, +he tied the rope round his own ankle and lay down to sleep. Suddenly, +the old horse--frightened at something--began to run, the boy awoke +and tried to rise, but he stumbled and fell. His screams evidently +frightened the old horse, which ran faster and ever faster, dragging +the poor boy through the bushes and briars, dashing him against the +stones of the roadside. When, at last, the horse was stopped, the boy +was only a bruised and bleeding mass. + +"Oh," said Milenko to Peric, "I have had such a horrible vision!" + +"I hope it is not about my little brother," replied the youth. + +"Why?" + +"I really don't know; but all at once the idea came into my head that +the poor boy must have died." + +"Strange!" quoth Milenko, as he walked away, not to be questioned as +to his vision. + +One evening, when the moon had gone below the horizon looking like a +reaping-hook steeped in blood, and nothing could be seen all around +but the broad expanse of the dark waters, reflecting the tiny stars +twinkling in the sky above, Milenko saw, all at once, the white walls +of St. George's Convent. The doors, usually shut, were now opened. +Uros appeared on the threshold. There he received the blessing of the +old monk who had tended him during his illness, and whose hands he +now kissed with even more affection and thankfulness than devotion; +then, hugged and kissed by all the other caloyers, who had got to be +as fond of him as of a son or a brother, he bade them all farewell. +Then, leaning on Milena's arm, and followed by his father and mother, +he wended his way down the mountain and towards the town. Uros was +still thin and pale, but all traces of suffering had disappeared from +his face. Though he and Milena were man and wife--having been married +_in extremis_--still they were lovers, and his weakness was a +plausible pretext to lean lovingly on her arm, and stop every now and +then to look lovingly within her lustrous eyes, and thus give vent to +the passion that lay heavy on his heart; and once, when his parents +had disappeared behind a corner, he stopped, put his arm round her +waist, then their lips met in a long, silent kiss, which brought the +blood up to their cheeks. Then the picture faded, and the waters were +again as black as night; only, his ears whistled, and he almost +fancied he could hear Uros' voice in a distance speaking of him. + +Of course, Milenko knew that all this was but a delusion, a dream, a +hallucination of his fancy, and he tried to think of his friend lying +stiff and stark within his coffin; still, his imagination was unruly, +and showed him Uros at home alive and happy. + +These visions about his friend were all the same; thus, nearly three +weeks after he had left Budua, one evening, when sad and gloomy, he +was thinking of Uros' funeral, to which he now regretted not to have +remained and assisted, he saw, within the depths of the dark blue +sea, Bellacic's house adorned as for a great festivity. Not only was +a banquet prepared; _guzlars_ played on their instruments, and guests +arrived in holiday attire, but Uros, who had almost regained his +former good looks, was, in his dress of the Kotor, as handsome as a +_Macic_. Milena, as beautiful as when, in bridal attire, she had come +from Montenegro, was standing by his side. Soon Danilo Kvekvic came, +wearing a rich stole. The guests lighted the tapers they were +holding; wreaths were placed on Milena's and Uros' heads. This was +the wedding ceremony that would have taken place had Uros recovered +from his wound, and of which Milenko had certainly not been thinking. + +Milenko at last reached Trieste, where he found a letter waiting for +him. The news it contained would have made his heart beat rapidly +with joy had Uros only been with him. Now, reading this letter, he +only heaved a deep sigh. It was almost a sigh of forlorn hope. Fate +but too often, whilst granting us a most coveted boon, seems to feel +a malicious pleasure either in disappointing us entirely, or, at +least, in blunting the edge of our joy. This letter was from +Giulianic, who, having redeemed his pledge from his friend Bellacic, +was now but too glad to have him for his son-in-law. Moreover, he +urged him to come over to Nona. + +Nothing, indeed, prevented Milenko from consigning the ship to the +captain, who was waiting for him at Trieste, and selling his share of +the brig. Still, he could not think of doing so, or engaging himself, +or settling any time for his marriage before Uros' death had been +avenged. He, therefore, wrote at once to Giulianic, thanking him for +his kindness to him, stating, nevertheless, the reasons which obliged +him to postpone his marriage until the vows of the _karvarina_ had +been fulfilled. + +At Trieste, Milenko found out that the _Diana_, the ship on which +Vranic was embarked, was a Genoese brig, usually sailing to and from +the Adriatic and the Levant ports; occasionally, she would come as +far as Trieste or Venice, usually laden with boxes of oranges and +lemons, and sail back with a cargo of timber. It would have been easy +enough to have him apprehended by one of the Austrian consuls in the +ports where the _Diana_ might be bound to, but the vengeance of the +_karva tajstvo_ is not done by deputy nor confided to the police. + +At the shipbroker's to which the _Spera in Dio_ was consigned, +Milenko also found a letter from the captain, his partner in the +ship, saying that, far from coming to take charge of the ship, he was +inclined to sell his share; and Milenko, who was very anxious to be +free and to sail for those ports where he might easier come across +the _Diana_, bought the other half, and soon afterwards, having +managed to get a cargo of timber for Pozzuoli, he set sail without +delay, hoping to be in time to catch Vranic in Naples. + +Not far from the rocky island of Melada, which the Dalmatians say is +the Melita of the Scriptures, the _Spera in Dio_ met with very stormy +weather and baffling winds. Thereabouts one rough and cloudy night, +when not only Milenko but almost all the men were on deck, they all +at once saw a ship looming in the darkness at a short distance from +them. The captain had either forgotten to hoist a light, or else had +let it go out. When they perceived that dark shadow, only a little +darker than the surrounding night, they did their utmost to steer out +of her way. The other ship likewise seemed to try and tack about, but +driven as she was by a strong head-wind, it was quite impossible to +make her change her direction and avoid a collision. + +A few moments after the dark phantom was seen a loud crash was heard; +it was the groan of a monster falling with a thud upon his adversary, +felling him with his ponderous mass. The unknown ship had +unexpectedly come and butted against the _Spera in Dio_ amidships, +like a huge battering-ram, breaking the beams, shivering the planks, +cutting the harmless ship nearly in two, and allowing the waters to +pour in through the huge cleft. + +Some of the sailors managed to climb up the other ship; most of the +crew clung to the timber with which the ship was laden. Milenko +remained on the sinking wreck until dawn. + +The other ship--an Italian schooner--cruised about, and tried to +remain as much as she possibly could on the same spot, till early in +the morning, so as to pick up all the men of the wreck. Three of the +crew, however, must have been washed away, for they were not seen +anywhere, or ever afterwards heard of. + +The schooner, that had been also considerably damaged, sailed to +Trieste as well as she could. Fortunately for Milenko, the _Spera in +Dio_ had been insured for more than her value, and happening to find +another ship for sale, the _Giustizia di Dio_, he bought it, and, on +the whole, made a very good bargain. He soon got another cargo for +Naples, and, a month after his return, he once more sailed in search +of Vranic. + + + + +CHAPTER XXI + +FLIGHT + + +Vranic, having stabbed Uros, remained for a moment rooted to the spot +where he stood. When he saw the red blood gush out of the wound and +dye the white shirt, he stared at the young man bewildered; he could +hardly understand what he had done. A strange feeling came over him. +He almost fancied he was awaking from a horrid dream, and that he was +witnessing a deed done, not by himself, but by some person quite +unknown to him. When he saw Uros put his hand up to the wound, then +stagger, he was about to help him; but Milenko having appeared, he +shuddered, came to his senses and ran off. + +Vranic had always been cursed with a morbidly discontented +disposition, as peevish and as fretful as a porcupine. Although he +was superstitiously religious, and strictly kept all feasts and +fasts, still, at the same time, he felt a grudge--almost a hatred +--against God, who had made him so unlike other men; who, far from +granting him the boon of health to which he felt he had a right, had +stamped him with an indelible sign so that all might keep aloof from +him. He envied all the men he knew, for they laughed and were merry, +when he himself was as gloomy as a lonely spider in its dusty old +web. Still, as he vented the little energy that was in him in secret +rancour, he would never have harmed anybody. He had, it was true, cut +down Bellacic's vines, but had done so instigated by his friends, or +rather, by Bellacic's enemies. If he had stabbed Uros, it was really +done in a moment of madness, driven almost to despair by many +sleepless nights, by the shame and pain caused by the loss of his +ear. + +Having done that dreadful deed, he understood that the Convent of St. +George was no shelter for him. Besides, seeing Uros fall lifeless, +his first impulse was flight. It mattered little whither he went. It +was only after a short time when, breathless and faint, he stumbled +against a stone and fell, that the thought of finding some +hiding-place came into his head. + +He lurked amongst the rocks the whole of that day, terrified at the +slightest noise he heard, trembling with fear if a bird flew beside +him, startled at his own shadow. At times he almost fancied the +stones had eyes and were looking at him, and that weird, uncouth +shapes moved in the bushes below. + +He was not hungry, but his lips were parched, his mouth felt clammy +with thirst; still, there was not a drop of water to be had, nothing +but the hot sun from the sky above, and the glow of the scorching +stones from below. + +Then he asked himself again and again what he was to do and where he +was to go. + +Fear evoked a terrible bugbear in every imaginary path he took. If he +went back to Budua he would be murdered by his foes or arrested by +the Austrian police; Montenegro was out of the question. + +He had, by chance, seen during the day an Italian vessel ready to +sail. The ship was still at anchor in the bay, for he could see it +from his hiding-place. If he could only manage to get on board he +might be safe there. Once out of Budua, he cared but little +whithersoever chance sent him. + +The best thing he could do was to wait till nightfall, then to creep +stealthily into town. It was not likely that the murder was known to +everybody; if he could only get unseen to the _marina_ without +crossing the town, he then might get some boatman to row him to the +Italian ship. + +The day seemed to be an endless one, and even when the sun had set, +the red light of the after-glow struggled to keep night away. + +At last, when the shades of night fell upon the country, he began to +scramble down, avoiding the path and the high road, shuddering +whenever he caught the sound of a footstep, feeling sick if a +rustling leaf was blown down against him. At last he reached the +gates of the town, but instead of going in, he followed the walls, +and thus managed to get to the port. + +It was now quite dark; some fishermen were setting out for the night, +others were coming back home, laden with their prey. He kept aloof +from them all. + +After some time, he found a sailor lad sleeping in his boat. He shook +him and woke him, then he asked him to row him to the Italian ship +that was about to sail. + +The boy at first demurred, but the sight of a small silver coin +overcame all his drowsiness as well as his objections. He consented +to ferry him across. + +"Do you know what boat she is?" asked Vranic. + +"Yes." + +"Well?" + +"If you are going to her, I suppose you know her name, too." + +"Can't you answer a question?" said Vranic, snappishly. + +"She's the _Diana_." + +"From?" + +"Genoa, I believe." + +"And bound?" + +"To Naples; but Italian ships don't take Slavs on board," said the +lad. + +Vranic did not give him any answer. + +"Are you a sailor?" asked the boy, after a while. + +"No. I--I have some business in Italy." + +As soon as they were alongside the ship, Vranic called for the +captain. + +The master, who was having his supper on deck, asked him what he +wanted. + +"Are you bound for Naples?" + +"Yes." + +"Can you take me on board?" + +"As?" + +"As sailor? I'll work my way." + +"No. I have no need of sailors." + +"Then as a passenger?" + +"We are a cargo ship." + +"Still, if I make it worth your while?" + +"Our accommodation might not be such as would suit you." + +The captain suspected this man, who came to him in the midst of the +darkness asking for a passage, of having perpetrated some crime. He +felt sure that Budua was too hot a place for him, and that he was +anxious to get away. + +"I can put up with anything--a sack on deck." + +"Climb up," replied the captain. + +Vranic managed to catch the rope ladder, and, after much difficulty, +he climbed on board. + +The captain, seeing him and not liking his looks, felt confirmed in +his suspicions; therefore he asked him a rather large sum, at least +three times what he would have asked from anybody else. + +Vranic tried to haggle, but at last he paid the money down. The lad +with the boat disappeared; still, he only felt safe when--a few hours +afterwards--the anchor having been heaved, the sails spread, the ship +began to glide on the waters, and the dim lights of Budua disappeared +in the distance. + +The sea was calm, the breeze fair; the crossing of the Adriatic +seemed likely to be a prosperous one. + +A bed having been made up for him in the cabin, Vranic, weary and +worn out, lay down; and, notwithstanding all his torturing thoughts, +his mind, by degrees, became clouded and he went off to sleep. It is +true, he had hardly closed his eyes when he woke up again, thinking +of Uros as he had seen him when the blood was gushing out of his +wound; then a spectre even more dreadful to behold rose before his +eyes. It was the _voukoudlak_, from which he was escaping. Still, +bodily and mental fatigue overcame all remorse, and, feeling safe +from his enemies, he went off to sleep, and, notwithstanding a series +of dreadful dreams, he slept more soundly than he had done for many a +night. + +When he awoke the next morning, all trace of land had disappeared; +nothing was seen but the glittering waters of the blue sea and the +glowing sun overhead. He was safe; remorse had vanished with fear; he +only felt, not simply hungry, but famished. + +Everything went on well for two or three days. The smacking breeze +blew persistently. In a day more they hoped to reach Naples. The crew +had nothing to do but to mend old sails, to eat and sleep. They were +a merry set of men, as easily amused as children; besides, all of +them were wonderfully musical and possessed splendid voices. Gennaro, +the youngest, especially might have made a great fortune as a tenor. +In the evening they would sing all in a chorus, accompanying +themselves with a guitar, a mandoline and a triangle. + +Vranic, amongst them, was like an owl in an aviary of singing-birds; +besides, he knew but few words of Italian and could hardly understand +their dialect. Although his sleep was no more molested by vampires, +and he tried not to think of the crime he had committed, and almost +succeeded in driving away the visions that haunted him at times, +still he was anything but happy. Was he not an exile from his native +country, for, even if the Austrian law could be defeated, would not +the terrible _karvarina_ be exercised against him whenever he met one +of Bellacic's numerous friends? + +In this mood--wrapped in his gloomy thoughts--Vranic kept aloof from +every man on board. To the captain's questions he ever answered in +monosyllables; nor was he more talkative with the sailors. Once they +asked him to tell them a story of his country, and he complied. + +"Shall I tell you the story of the youth who was going to seek his +fortune?" + +"Yes; it must be a very interesting one." + +"Well--a youth was going to seek his fortune." + +"And then?" + +"The night before he was about to leave his village a storm destroyed +the bridge over which he had to pass." + +"Well--and then?" + +"He waited till they built another bridge." + +"But go on." + +"There is no going on, for the young man is waiting still," said he, +with a sneer. + +After two or three days, Vranic was looked upon by all on board as a +peevish, sullen fellow, and he was left to his own dreary +meditations. + +One of the sailors, besides, got it into his head that Vranic had the +gift of the evil eye, and it did not take very long to convince every +man on board of the truth of this assertion. Whenever he looked at +them, they invariably shut their two middle fingers, and pointed the +index and little finger at him, so as to counteract the effect of the +_jettatura_. The only man on board who did not fear Vranic was the +mate, for he possessed a charm far more potent than a crooked nail, a +horse-shoe, a bit of horned coral, or even a little silver +hump-backed man--this was a horse-chestnut, which he was once +fortunate enough to catch as it was falling from the tree, and before +it had touched the ground. He cherished it as a treasure, and kept it +constantly in his pocket. It was infallible against the evil eye, and +was powerful in many other circumstances. He was a most lucky man, +and, in fact, he felt sure he owed his good fortune to this talisman +of his. + +Although the weather was delightful, still the captain and the crew +could not help feeling a kind of premonition of evil to come; all +were afraid that, sooner or later, Vranic would bring them ill-luck. +At last the coasts of Italy were in sight, but with the far-off +coasts, a small cloud, a mere speck of vapour, was seen on the +horizon. It was but a tiny white flake, a soft, silvery spray, torn +from some shrub blossoming in an unknown Eden, and blown by the west +wind in the sky. It also looked like a patch worn by coquettish +Nature to enhance the diaphanous watchet-blue of the atmosphere. +Still, the sailors frowned at it, and called the feathery cloudlet +--scudding lazily about--a squall, and they were all glad to be in +sight of the land. The breeze freshened, the sea changed its colour, +the waves rolled heavily; their tops were crested with foam. Still, +the ship made gallantly for the neighbouring coast. + +The little cloud kept increasing in size; first it lengthened itself +in a wonderful way, like a snake spreading itself out; it also grew +of a darker, duller tint. Then it rolled itself together, piled +itself up, augmenting in volume, till it almost covered the whole of +the horizon. Finally, it began to droop downwards, tapering ever +lower, and losing itself in a mist. The sea underneath began to be +agitated, to boil and to bubble, seething with white foam; then a +dense smoke arose from the sea and mounted upwards as if to meet the +descending column of mist from the cloud just above it; both the +cloud and the upheaving waves moved with the greatest rapidity, and +seemed to be attracted by the ship, which endeavoured to tack about +and steer away from them. + +All at once, the water overhead met the ascending mist, and then a +sparkling, silvery cloud arose in the spout, just like quicksilver in +a glass tube. + +All the men were on deck, attending to the captain's directions; all +eyes were attracted by the weird, beautiful, yet terrifying sight. +The master, at the helm, did his best to avoid it, by changing the +ship's direction; still, the column of water advanced threateningly +in their course. It came nearer and ever nearer; now it was at a +gun-shot from the ship; if they had had a cannon on board, they might +have fired against it and dissolved it, but they had no firearms. The +atmosphere around them was getting dark with mist, the waterspout was +coming against them, and if that mass of water burst down on the ship +it would founder at once. + +What was to be done? + +"Leave the ship, and take to the boats," said some of the crew, but +it was already too late; they could not help being involved in the +cataclysm. + +Some of the men had sunk on their knees, and were asking the Virgin +or St. Nicholas of Bari to come to their help. + +"There is a remedy," said Vranic to the captain; "an infallible +remedy." + +"What is it?" asked the master, with the eagerness of a drowning man +clutching at a straw. + +"If a sailor amongst the crew happens to be the eldest of seven sons +he can at once dissolve that cursed column of water, the joint work +of the evil spirits of the air and those of the sea." + +"How so?" asked the captain. + +"Draw, at once, a pentagon, or five-pointed star, or King Solomon's +seal, on a piece of white paper, and let such a sailor, if he be on +board, stab it through the centre." + +The captain called all the men together, and asked if anyone amongst +them happened to be, by chance, the eldest of seven brothers. + +"My father has seven sons, and I am the eldest," said Gennaro, that +curly-headed, bright-eyed Sicilian youth, for whom life seemed all +sunshine. "Why, what am I to do?" + +The waterspout was advancing rapidly, the sea was lashed by the +mighty waves, and the ship, like a nutshell, was being tossed against +it. + +Vranic, who had drawn the cabalistic sign, handed it to the captain. + +"Stab that star in the centre, quickly." + +The Slav took out a little black dagger, and gave it to the youth. + +"Be quick! there is no time to be lost." + +The murmuring and hissing sound the column of water had been making +had changed into the deafening roar of a waterfall. It seemed to be +whirling round with vertiginous rapidity, as it came upon them. + +"Make haste!" added the captain. + +"But why?" + +"Do it! this is no time to ask questions!" replied the master. + +"And then?" quoth the youth, turning to Vranic. + +"The waterspout will melt into rain." + +"And what will happen to me?" + +"To you? Why, nothing." + +"I am frightened." + +A vivid flash of lightning appeared, and the rumbling of the thunder +now mingled itself with the roaring of the waters. + +"Frightened of what?" said the captain. + +"That man has the _jettatura_; I am sure he means mischief." + +"What a coward you are! Do what I order you, or, by the Madonna----" + +"What harm can befall you for stabbing a bit of paper?" said some of +the sailors. + +"Quick! it is the only chance of saving us all!" added the boatswain. + +"Only, if you don't make haste, it'll be too late." + +The abyss of the waters seemed to open before the ship, ready to +engulf it; the waves were rolling over it. + +Gennaro crossed himself devoutly, then he muttered a prayer; at last +he took up the dagger and stabbed the pentagon in the very middle, +just where Vranic had pointed to him with his finger; still, he grew +ghastly pale as he did so. + +"Holy Mother," said the youth, "forgive me if I have done wrong!" + +All the eyes anxiously turned from the bit of paper to the +waterspout, whirling round and coming ever nearer. + +All at once the whirling seemed to stop; then, as the motion relaxed, +the column of water snapped somewhat above the middle; the lower +portion, or base, relapsed and gradually fell; it was absorbed by the +rising waves and the bubbling and foaming waters. The higher portion +began to curl upwards and to disappear amidst the huge mass of +lowering clouds overhead. + +"There," said Vranic, "I told you the spout would melt away and +vanish." + +"Wonderful!" said the captain. + +"Yes, indeed!" said Gennaro, as he again crossed himself and handed +the dagger to its owner, evidently glad to get rid of it. + +"Well, you see that you were not struck dead," said the boatswain to +the youth. + +"Nor carried away by the devil," said another of the sailors. + +"The year is not yet out, nor the day either," thought Vranic to +himself; "and even if you live, you may rue this day and the deed +you've done." + +"You have saved all our lives, and we thank you, Gennaro," added the +captain. "I shall never forget you; and I hope that, as long as I +command a ship, we'll never part." + +Thereupon, he clasped him in his arms and kissed him fondly. + +"Thank you, captain; and may San Gennaro, my patron saint, and the +blessed Virgin, grant you your wish and mine." + +"We thank you, too," said the captain to Vranic, feeling himself +bound to say something; "you are really a magician, and you know the +secret of the elements." + +"Oh! it is a thing that every child knows in our country, just like +pouring oil in the sea to calm the waves." + +The men said nothing, but they were all glad the coasts were near, +and that they would soon get rid of this uncanny and uncouth man. + +In the meanwhile, the sun had gone down, and dark night spread itself +like a pall over the sea. The storm then increased with the darkness. +The waterspout had vanished, but in its stead a pouring rain came +down; the wind also began to blow in fitful blasts, and as it came in +a contrary direction they were obliged to tack about, and to take in +the sails. The storm, however, kept increasing at a fearful rate; the +wind was blowing a real hurricane; all sails, even the jib, had to be +reefed. The sea, lashed by the wind, became ever more boisterous; the +waves rose in succession, uplifting themselves the one on top of the +other, and dashing against the ship, which ever seemed ready to +founder. All hands were now at the pumps, and Vranic, along with the +others, worked away with all his strength. + +Steering--as the ship had done--to avoid the waterspout, she had been +continually altering her course, so that the captain did not exactly +know whereabouts they were. In the midst of the darkness and with the +torrents of rain that came pouring down, all traces of land had long +disappeared. + +All at once a mightier gust of wind came down upon the ship, the +beams groaned, then there was a tremendous crash and one of the masts +came down. There was a moment of panic and confusion; Vranic fell +upon his knees and began to pray for help. + +Soon after that a light was seen at no very great distance. + +"We are saved," said the captain; "there is Cape Campanella +lighthouse." + +All eyes were fixed upon that beacon. + +"It is rather too low to be Cape Campanella," added the boatswain. + +"Yes; and, besides, it flashes every two minutes," replied the +captain. + +They thereupon concluded that it was the lighthouse on Carena Point, +the south-western extremity of the island of Capri. + +Thinking it to be Cape Campanella, they had steered towards the +light--the only dangerous part of the island, on account of the reef, +which stretches out a long way into the sea. When they found out +their mistake it was too late to avoid the danger that threatened +them; the ship was dashed against the rocks, which were heard grating +under the keel and ripping open the sides, like the teeth of some +famished monster of the deep. Fortunately, the brig had got tightly +wedged between two rocks and kept fast there, so nothing was to be +done but work hard at the pumps, trying to keep out as much water as +they possibly could. + +The night seemed everlasting. Still, by degrees, the storm subsided, +and at dawn the wind had gone down and the sea had grown calm. + +At daybreak help came from the shore. + +"The ship is very much damaged," said the captain, "and so is the +cargo, doubtless; but, at least, there are no lives lost," added he, +looking round. + +A few moments afterwards, the boatswain, wanting something, called +Gennaro, but no answer came. He called again and again, cursed his +canine breed, but with no better success. + +"Where is Gennaro?" asked the captain. + +The youth was sought down below, but he was nowhere to be found. All +the men of the crew looked at one another enquiringly, and at last +the questions that everyone was afraid to ask were uttered. + +Had the youth been swept away by one of the huge breakers that washed +over the deck? Had he been killed by the falling mast, or blown into +the deep by a sudden and unexpected gust of wind? No one had seen him +disappear; all looked around, expecting to see the handsome face of +the youth they loved so well rising above the waves; but the green +waters kept their secret. After that, all eyes turned towards Vranic, +as if asking for an answer. + +"The last time I saw the youth was when he was working at the pumps +by me, just before the mast came down." + +They all muttered some oath, unintelligible to him, and then a prayer +for the youth. After that Vranic was only too glad to leave the ship, +for every man on board seemed to look upon him as the cause of +Gennaro's mysterious disappearance. + +Having remained a week in Naples, seeing his money, the only thing he +loved, dwindle away, Vranic did his best to find some employment. He +for a few days got a living as a porter, helping to unload sacks from +an English ship. Still, that was but a very precarious living, and he +decided to follow a seafaring life, not because he was fond of it, +but only to keep clear from his enemies and the laws of his country, +and the vampire that had haunted him there every night. + +He happened to find employment, as cook, on the very ship he had +helped to discharge. It was an English schooner, bound for Glasgow. +The captain, a crusty old bachelor, was a real hermit-crab; the men, +a most ruffianly set. Vranic, being hardly able to speak with anyone, +indulged in his morose way of living, and, except for being kicked +about every now and then, he was left very much to himself. + +From Glasgow the schooner sailed for Genoa, where she arrived just as +the _Giustizia di Dio_ was about to set sail. The two ships came so +close together that Vranic, who kept a sharp look-out whenever he saw +an Austrian flag, recognised Milenko standing on the deck and +ordering some manoeuvres. + +Although the young man could not perceive him, hidden as he was in the +darkness of the galley, and bending over the stove, still Vranic felt +a shock that for a few moments almost deprived him of his senses, and +made him feel quite sick. + +That day the dinner was quite a failure. The roast was burnt; the +potatoes, instead, were raw; the cauliflower was uneatable, and salt +had been put in the pudding instead of sugar. + +If there is anything trying to human patience, it is a spoilt dinner, +especially the first one gets in port. It is, therefore, not to be +wondered at that the captain, never very forbearing at the best of +times, got so angry that he kicked Vranic down the hatchway and +almost crippled him. + +Although the Dalmatian ship sailed away, bound probably towards the +East, and he would perhaps never see her captain again, still the +shock he felt had quite unnerved him. From that day matters began to +go on from bad to worse. Sailing from Genoa, they first met with +contrary winds, and much time was lost cruising about; after that +came a spell of calm weather, and for long weeks they remained in +sight of the bold promontory and of the lighthouse of Cape Bearn, not +far from the port of Vendres. At last a fair wind arose, the sails +were made taut, and the schooner flew on the crested waves. A new +life seemed to have come over the crew, tired of their listless +inactivity; the captain cursed Vranic and kicked him a little less +than he had done on the previous days. + +It was to be hoped that the wind would continue fair; otherwise their +provisions would begin falling short. Ill-luck, however, was awaiting +them in another direction. + +Opening a keg of salted meat a few days later, the stench was so +loathsome, that it reminded Vranic of that awful night when he had +stabbed the vampire; besides, big worms were crawling and wriggling +at the top. Vranic at once called the mate and showed him the rotten +meat, and the mate reported the fact to the captain. He only answered +with a few oaths, then shrugged his shoulders, and said that dogs +would lick their chops at such dainty morsels, and were his men any +better than dogs? + +"Wash it well, clean it, and put some vinegar with it," said the +mate, who was the best man on board. "There is no other meat, and +that is better than starving." + +Vranic did as he was bid; he put more pepper than usual. Still, he +himself did not taste it, but lived on biscuit, for even the potatoes +had been all eaten up. + +A few days afterwards, taking out another piece from the cask, he +drew out a sinewy human arm, hacked in several places, and with the +fingers chopped off. Shuddering, and seized with a feeling of +loathsomeness, he stood for a moment bewildered. Then he almost +fancied he had touched something hairy in the cask, and looking in, +he saw a disfigured and bearded man's head. Sickening at the gruesome +sight, he dropped the arm into the cask and hastened to the mate, +trying to explain to him what the barrel contained. + +The mate could hardly understand and would not believe him, but soon +he had to yield to the evidence of his own senses. The mate, in his +turn, reported the horrible fact to the captain, who asked both men +not to divulge the secret to the crew. When night came on, the cask +and its contents were thrown overboard. The captain was not to blame +for what the cask contained, nor were the ship-chandlers, who had +supplied him at other times upon leaving Scotland. The cask bore the +trade-mark of a well-known foreign house trading in preserved meat. + +The provisions, which had been scarce, now began to fall short; but +in a day or two they would have reached their destination. The wind, +however, was contrary, and some delay ensued. Hunger was now +beginning to be felt. The crew, overworked and badly fed, first grew +sullen; the foremost of them, with scowling looks, began to utter +threatening words. Orders given were badly obeyed, or not obeyed at +all. Long pent-up anger seemed every moment ready to break out--first +against the captain, then against the mate, finally against Vranic, +who, they said, was leagued against them. + +The boatswain especially hated him. + +"Since that cursed foreigner has come on board," said he, "everything +has been going from bad to worse. Even the provisions seem to dwindle +and waste away." + +"I'd not be surprised," added one of the sailors, "that he is leagued +with the captain to poison the whole lot of us, for, in fact, the +meat tasted like carrion, and I don't know what's up with me." + +"Nonsense! Why poison us? Starving is much better," quoth another. + +A trifle soon brought on a quarrel, which ended in a tussle. Vranic +got cuffed and kicked about; he had been born in an unlucky moment, +and everyone hated him without really understanding why or wherefore. + +Why do most people dislike toads or blind-worms? + +The mate, seeing the poor cook unfairly used, interfered on his +behalf, and tried to put an end to the fight. This only made matters +worse. The captain, hearing the noise, appeared on deck, and a mutiny +at once broke out. + +The boatswain, who was at the head of the revolted crew, snatching up +a hatchet which happened to be there within his reach, advanced and +demanded a distribution of provisions. + +The captain, for all answer, knocked him down with a crow-bar; at the +same time he showed the crew the coast of England, which was faintly +visible at a distance, as well as a man-of-war coming full sail +towards them. + +A day after this incident, the ship had landed her rebellious crew at +Cardiff. The boatswain was sent to jail, where, if he had been a man +of a philosophical turn of mind, he might have meditated on the +difference between right and might. + +As for Vranic, he was but too glad to quit a ship where he was hated +by everybody, even by the captain, who had treated him more like a +galley slave than a fellow-creature. + +After having earned a pittance as a porter for a short time, he again +embarked on board the _Ave Maria_, an Austrian ship bound for +Marseilles. This ship had had a remarkably prosperous voyage from the +Levant. The captain had received a handsome gratuity, and now a cargo +had been taken at a very high freight; therefore, from the captain to +the cabin-boy, every man on board was merry and worked with a good +will. + +Although the weather was bleak, rainy and foggy, still the wind blew +steadily; moreover, the _Ave Maria_ was a good ship, and a fast +sailer, withal she laboured under a great disadvantage, that of being +overladen, and was, consequently, always shipping heavy seas. + +On leaving Cardiff, the captain found that two of the sailors, who +had been indulging in excesses of every kind whilst on shore, were in +a bad state of health. A third sickened a few days afterwards, and +for a long time all three were quite unfit for work. Still, the ship +managed to reach Marseilles without any mishap. + +The cargo was unloaded, a fresh one was taken on board; the men +received medical assistance, and seemed to be recovering. On leaving +Marseilles, matters went from bad to worse; the captain, his mate, +and two other sailors fell ill. + +"It seems," said the captain, "as if someone has the gift of the evil +eye, for, since we left England, ill-luck follows in our wake." + +The crew was, therefore, greatly diminished, for the three men, who +had been recovering, were now, on account of improper food and +overwork, quite ill again. + +On leaving Marseilles they met with heavy gales and baffling squalls +of wind; the ship began to pitch heavily, then to labour and strain +in such a way that, overladen as she was, the pestilence-stricken +crew could hardly manage her. For three days the wind blew with such +violence that two men had to be constantly kept at the helm. +Moreover, she shipped so many seas that hands had to be always at the +pumps. The very first day the waves had washed away the coops; then, +at last, the jib-boom and the bowsprit shrouds had been broken loose +and torn away by the grasp of the storm. + +At last the storm subsided, and then the captain ascertained that the +ship had sustained such damage as to render her unsafe. In such a +predicament, with the crew all ailing, the captain deemed it +necessary to go back to Marseilles for repairs. + +After a short stay there, the _Ave Maria_ set sail again for Palermo, +where she arrived without further mishap; only the sick sailors, +having had to work hard during the storm, were rather worse than +better. On leaving Palermo two other men of the crew had to be put on +the sick-list, so that by the time they reached the Adriatic the ship +was not much better than a pestiferous floating hospital. In fact, +the only ones who had escaped the loathsome contagion were Vranic and +the two boys, and they had to do the work of the whole crew. + +It was fortunate that, notwithstanding the stormy season of the year, +the weather kept steadily fair, for, in case of a hurricane, the crew +would have been almost helpless. At last land was within sight; the +hills of Istria were seen, towards evening, as a faint greyish line +on the dark grey sky. The captain and the men heaved a sigh of +relief; that very night they would cast anchor in the port of +Trieste. There some had their homes; all, at least, had relations or +friends. Vranic alone hoped to meet no one he knew. + +That evening they made a hearty meal, for, as their provisions had +slightly begun to fall short, they had scarcely satisfied their +hunger for several days; but now--almost within sight of the +welcoming, flashing rays of the Trieste lighthouse--they could, +indeed, be somewhat prodigal. + +The sirocco, which had accompanied them all the way from Palermo, now +fell all at once, just as they had reached the neighbourhood of Cape +Salvore. That sudden quietness boded nothing good. Soon, the captain +perceived that the wind was shifting in the Gulf of Trieste. By +certain well-known signs, he argued that the north-easterly wind was +rising; and soon afterwards, a fierce _bora_, the scourge of all the +neighbourhood, began to blow. + +Orders were at once given to reef the topsails; then they began to +tack about, so as to come to an anchorage in the roads of Trieste as +soon as possible. + +With the want of hands, the work proceeded very slowly and clumsily. +Night came on--dark, dismal night--amidst a howling wind and raging +billows dashing furiously against the little ship. It was a comfort +on the next morning to see the white houses and the naked hills of +Trieste; for they were not far from the port. Every means was tried +to get near the land without being dashed against it and stranded, or +split against the rocks; but the fierce wind baffled all their +efforts. And the whole of the day was passed in uselessly tacking +about and ever being driven farther off in the offing. Still, late in +the afternoon, they managed to get nearer the port, and at sunset +both anchors were dropped, not far from the jetty; still, the violence +of the wind was such that all communication with the land was +rendered impossible. That evening the last provisions were eaten, for +they had spent the whole day fasting. The strength of the gale +increased with the night. More chain was then added; but still the +anchors began to come home. By degrees, all the chains were paid out; +and, nevertheless, the ship was drifting. In so doing, she struck her +helm against a buoy. The shock caused one of the chains, which was +old and rusty, to snap. After that, the _Ave Maria_ was driven back +bodily towards the coasts of Istria, till finding, at last, a better +bottom, the anchor held and the ship was stopped at about a mile from +Punta Grossa, not far from Capo d'Istria. There was no moon; the sky +was overcast; the darkness all around was oppressive. The huge +surges, dashing against the bows and the forecastle, washed away +everything on deck. The boats themselves were rendered unserviceable. +The thermometer had fallen eighteen degrees in two days, and the +keen, sharp wind blowing rendered the cold most intense. A fringe of +icicles was hanging down from the sides of the ship, the spray froze +on the tackle, and rendered the ropes as hard as iron cables. + +Then the ship sprung a leak, and the pumps had to be worked to +prevent her from sinking. To keep the men alive, the captain opened a +pipe of Marsala which had been destined for the shippers. That night, +which seemed everlasting, finally wore away, dawn came, and the +signal of distress was hoisted; a ship passed at no great distance, +but took no notice of them. Anyhow, help could be expected from +Trieste; the coastguards must have seen them struggling against the +storm. That day the wind increased; not a ship, not a sailing-boat +was to be seen in the offing; what a long, dreary day of baffled hope +that was. When evening came on, the fasting crew, now completely +fagged out, began to lose courage, and yet they were but a few miles +from the coast. That night Vranic had a dreadful vision. When he took +his place at the pump, opposite him, at the other handle, stood the +vampire grinning at him, with the horrible gash in his cheek. That +gruesome sight was too dreadful to be borne; he felt his arms getting +stiff, and he fell fainting on the deck. He only recovered his senses +when a huge wave came breaking against the deck and almost washed him +overboard. + +In the morning the wind began to abate; but now all the sailors were +not only thoroughly exhausted, but all more or less in a state of +intoxication. The pumps could hardly be worked any more; even Vranic, +the boys and the captain, who had worked to the last, hoping to save +their lives, were obliged to leave the vessel to sink. + +The _Ave Maria_ was going down rapidly, and now, even if the men +could have worked, it was impossible to think of saving her; she was +to be the prey of the waves. As for help from Trieste, it was useless +looking out for it. Still, the titled gentlemen, in their warm and +cosy offices of the _See-Behörde_, which fronted the harbour, had +seen the ship fighting against the wind and the waves. They knew, or, +at least, ought to have known, of her distress; but it was carnival +time, and their thoughts were surely not with the ships at sea. + +At last, at eight o'clock, a ship was seen, and signals of distress +were made. The ship answered, and began tacking about and trying to +come near the sinking craft. When within reach of hearing, the whole +crew of the _Ave Maria_ summoned up all their strength and shouted +that they were starving. + + + + +CHAPTER XXII + +THE "GIUSTIZIA DI DIO" + + +Since his departure, Milenko had never received any letters from his +parents, for, in those times of sailing-ships, captains got news from +home casually, by means of such fellow-countrymen as they chanced to +meet, rather than through the post. Lately they had happened to come +across a Ragusian ship at Brindisi, but, as this ship had left Budua +only a short time after Milenko himself had sailed, all the +information the captain could give was rather stale. As for Vranic, +nothing had been heard of him these many months. + +Peric (the youth sailing with Milenko) heard, however, that the +forebodings he had had concerning his brother were but too well +founded; the poor boy had been killed while taking care of his +father's horse. Still, the man who told him the news did not know, or +had partly forgotten, all the details of the dreadful accident, for +all he remembered was that the poor child had been brought home to +his mother a mangled, bleeding corpse. + +Milenko then seemed again to see the vision he had witnessed within +the waters, and he could thus relate to the poor boy all the +particulars of the tragic event. + +Poor Peric cried bitterly, thinking of the poor boy he had been so +fond of, and whom he would never see again; then, having somewhat +recovered from his grief: + +"It is very strange," said he, "that, on the very night on which you +saw my brother dragged by the horse, I heard a voice whispering in my +ear: 'Jurye is dead!' and then I fancied that the wind whistling in +the rigging repeated: 'Jurye is dead!' and that same phrase was +afterwards lisped by the rushing waters. Just then, to crown it all, +I looked within the palm of my hand--why, I really do not know; but +that, as you are aware, brings about the death of the person we love +most. At that same moment a cold shivering came over me, and I felt +sure that my poor brother was dead. All this is very strange, is it +not?" + +"Not so very strange, either," replied Milenko; "the saints allow us +to have an inkling of what is to happen, so that when misfortune does +come, we are not crushed by it." + +"Oh! we all knew that one of our family would die during the year; +only, as I was going to sea, I thought that I might be the one +who----" + +"How did you know?" asked Milenko. + +"Because, when our grandmother died, her left eye remained open; and, +although they tried to shut it, still, after a while, the lids parted +again, and that, you well know, is a sure sign that someone of the +house would follow her during the year." + +The youth remained thoughtful for a little while, and then he added: + +"I wonder how my poor mother is, now that she has lost both her +sons." + +"We shall soon have news from home, for, if the weather does not +change, to-morrow we shall be in Trieste, where letters are surely +awaiting us." + +"Do you ever have voices whispering in your ears?" asked Peric. + +"No, never; do you?" + +"Very often, especially when I keep very still and try to think of +nothing at all, just as if I were not my own self, but someone else." + +"Try and see if you can hear a voice now." + +The youth remained for some time perfectly still, looking as if he +were going off into a trance; when he came to himself again: + +"I did hear a voice," said he. + +"What did it say?" + +"That to-morrow you will meet the man you have been looking for." + +"Nothing else?" + +"Nothing." + +"Is it not imagination?" + +"Oh, no! besides, poets often hear the voice of the moon, who tells +them all the stories they write in their books." + +"Do they?" quoth Milenko, smiling. + +"Yes; do you not know the story of 'The Snowdrop,' that Igo Kas heard +whilst he was seated by a newly-dug grave?" + +"No, I never heard it." + +"Then I'll read it to you, if you like." + +Milenko having nothing better to do, listened attentively to the +youth's tale. + + +THE SNOWDROP. + +A Slav Story. + +The last feathery flakes of snow, fallen in the night, had not yet +melted away, when the first snowdrop, which had sprung up in the +dark, glinted at the dawning sun. A drop of dew, glistening on the +edge of its half-opened leaves, looked like a sparkling tear. That +dainty little flower, as white as the surrounding snow, had sprouted +up beside a newly-dug grave. As I stooped down to pick the little +snowdrop, I saw the words inscribed on the white marble slab, and +then sorrow's heavy hand was laid upon my heart. The name was that of +the Countess Anya Yarnova, a frail flower of early spring, as +spotless as the little snowdrop. + +What had been the cause of her sudden death? Was it some secret +sorrow? Was it her love for that handsome stranger whose flashing +eyes revealed the hunger of his heart? + +At gloaming I was again beside the newly-opened grave. The sun had +set, the birds in the bushes were hushed; the breeze, that before +seemed to be the mild breath of spring, began to blow in fitful, cold +blasts. + +The round disc of the moon now rose beyond the verge of the horizon, +and its mild, amber light fell upon the marble monument of the +Yarnova family, almost hidden under a mass of white roses, camellias +and daffodils, made up in huge wreaths. + +Mute and motionless, I sat for some time musing by the tomb; then at +last, looking up at + + "That orbed maiden, with white fire laden, + Whom mortals call the Moon," + +I said: + + "Tell me, Moon, thou pale and grey + Pilgrim of Heaven's homeless way," + +didst thou know young Countess Yarnova, so full of life a few days +ago, and now lying there in the cold bosom of the earth? Tell me what +bitter and unbearable grief broke that young heart; speak to me, and +I shall listen to thy words as to the voice of my mother, when, in +the evening, she whispered weird tales to me while putting me to +sleep. + +A loud moan seemed to arise from the tomb, and then I heard a voice +as silvery sweet as the music of the spheres, lisp softly in my +ear:-- + + +Passing by the Yarnova Castle three days ago, I peeped within its +casements, and, in a dimly-lighted hall, I saw Countess Yadviga, who +had just returned from Paris. She wore a black velvet dress, and her +head was muffled in a lace mantilla; although her features twitched +and she was sad and careworn, still she looked almost as young and +even handsomer than her fair daughter. + +Presently, as she sat in the dark room, the door was opened; a page +stepped in, drew aside the gilt morocco portière emblazoned with the +Yarnova arms, and ushered in the handsome stranger, Aleksij Orsinski. + +The Baron looked round the dimly-lighted room for a while. At last he +perceived the figure of the Countess as she sat in the shadow of the +huge fire-place; then he went up to her and bowed. + +"Thank you, Countess Yarnova, for snatching yourself away from +beautiful Paris and coming in this dismal place." + +The figure in the high-backed arm-chair bowed slightly, and without +uttering a single word, motioned the stranger to a seat at a short +distance. The Baron sat down. + +"Thank you especially for at last giving your consent to my marriage +with the beautiful Anya." + +The Baron waited for a reply, but as none came, he went on: + +"Although her guardian hinted that Anya was somewhat too young for +me, still I know she loves me; and as for myself, I swear that +henceforth the aim of my life will be that of making her happy." + +The Baron, though sixteen years older than his childlike bride, was +himself barely thirty; he was, moreover, a most handsome man--tall, +stalwart, with dark flashing eyes, a long flowing moustache, a mass +of black hair, and a remarkably youthful appearance. He waited again +a little while for an answer, but the mother did not speak. + +The large and lofty hall in which they were, with its carved stalls +jutting out of the wainscot, looked far more like a church than a +habitable room; the few fantastic oil lamps seemed like stars shining +in the darkness, while the mellow light of the moon, pouring in from +the mullioned windows, fell on the Baron's manly figure, and left the +Countess in the dark. + +As no answer came, the stranger, at a loss what to say, repeated his +own words: + +"Yes, all my days will be devoted to the happiness of our child." + +"Our child?" said the Countess at last, with a slight tremor in her +voice. + +The Baron started like a man roused in the midst of a dream. + +"Your daughter I mean, Countess." + +Seized by a strange feeling of oppression, which he was unable to +control, the Baron, in his endeavour to overcome it, began to relate +to the mother how he had met Anya by chance, how he had fallen in +love with her the very moment he had seen her, how from that day she +had engrossed all his thoughts, for, from their first meeting, her +image had haunted him day and night. + +"In fact," added he, "it was the first time I had loved, the very +first." + +"The first?" echoed the voice in the dark. + +The strong man trembled like an aspen leaf. Those two words coming +from that dark, motionless figure, sitting at some distance, seemed +to be a voice from the tomb, an echo from the past; that past which +never buries its dead. To get over his increasing nervousness the +Baron began to speak with greater volubility: + +"In my early youth, or rather in my childhood I should say," added +he, "I did love once----" + +"Once?" repeated the voice. + +The Baron started again and stopped. Was it Anya's mother who spoke, +or was there an echo in that room? Still, he went on: + +"Yes, once I loved, or, at least, thought myself in love." + +"Thought?" added the voice. + +That repetition was getting unbearable; anyhow, he tried not to heed +it. + +"Well, Countess, it was only a childish fancy, a boy's infatuation; +at sixteen, I was spoony on a girl two years younger than myself, +just about the age my Anya is now. Fate parted us; I grieved a while; +but, since I saw your daughter, I understood that I had never loved +before, no, never!" + +"Never before--no, never!" uttered the woman in the dark. + +The Baron almost started to his feet; that voice so silvery clear, so +mournfully sweet, actually seemed to come from the far-off regions +from where the dead do not return. After a short silence, only +interrupted by two sighs, he went on: + +"There were, of course, other loves between the first and the last +--swift, evanescent shadows, leaving no traces behind them. And now +that I have made a full confession of my sins, Countess, can I not +see my Anya?" + +"Your Anya?" + +This was carrying a joke rather too far. + +"Well, my fiancee?" said he, rather abruptly. + +"No, Aleksij Orsinski, not yet. You have spoken, and I have listened +to you; it is my turn to speak. I, too, have something to say about +Anya's father." + +The Baron had always been considered as a brave man, but now either +the darkness oppressed him, or the past arose in front of him +threateningly, or else the strange and almost weird behaviour of his +future mother-in-law awed him; but, somehow or other, he had never +felt so uncomfortable before. Not only a disagreeable feeling of +creepiness had come over him, but even a slight perspiration had +gathered on his brow. He almost fancied that, instead of a woman, a +ghost was sitting there in front of him echoing his words. Who was +that ghost? Perhaps, he would not--probably, he dared not recognise +it. He tried, however, to shake off his nervousness, and said, with +forced lightness: + +"I have had the honour of knowing Count Yarnova personally; he was +somewhat eccentric, it is true; still, a more honourable man +never----" + +"He was simply mad," interrupted the Countess; "anyhow, it is not of +Count Yarnova, but of Anya'a father of whom I wish to speak." Then, +after a slight pause, as if nerving herself to the painful task, the +woman in the dark added: "For you must know that not a drop of the +Count's blood flows in my daughter's veins." + +There was another awkward pause; Aleksij's heart began to beat much +faster, the perspiration was gathering on his brow in much bigger +drops. + +"Count Yarnova was not your daughter's father, you say?" He would +have liked to add: "Who was, then?" but he durst not. + +"No, Aleksij Orsinski, he was not." + +A feeling of sickness came over the Baron; he hardly knew whether he +was awake, or asleep and dreaming. Who was that woman in the dark? + +The Countess, after a while, resumed her story: "I was born in St. +Petersburg, of a wealthy and honourable, but not of a noble family. +I, too, was but a child when I fell in love, deeply in love, with a +neighbour's son. Unlike yours, Baron, and I suppose all men's, a +woman's first love is the only real one. I was then somewhat younger +than my daughter now is, for I had barely reached my thirteenth year, +and as for my lover, he was fifteen. We often met, unknown to our +parents, in our garden; I saw no harm in it--I was too young, too +guileless, not to trust him----" + +She stopped. + +"And he?" asked the Baron, as if called upon to say something. + +"He, like Romeo, whispered vows of love, of eternal fidelity. He +believed in his vows just then, as you did, Aleksij Orsinski; for I +daresay that with you, as with all men, the last love is the only +true one." + +"Then?" asked the Baron. + +"Once we stepped out of the garden together; a carriage was waiting +for us; we drove to a lonely chapel not far from our house; a priest +there blessed us and made us man and wife. Our marriage, however, was +to be kept a secret till we grew older, or, at least, till my husband +was master of his actions, for he knew that his parents would never +consent to our union." + +There was another pause; but now the Baron could not trust himself to +speak, his teeth were almost chattering as if with intense cold. + +"A time of sickness and sorrow reigned over our country; the people +were dying by hundreds and by thousands. The plague was raging in St. +Petersburg. My husband's family were the first to flee from the +contagion. We remained. The scourge had just abated, when, to my +horror and dismay, I understood that I should in a few months become +a mother. I wrote to my husband, but I received no answer; still, I +knew he was alive and in good health. I wrote again, but with no +better success. The day came when, at last, I had to disclose my +terrible secret to my parents." + +The Countess stopped, passed her hands over her brow as if to drive +away the remembrance of those dreadful days. + +"It is useless to try and relate their anger and my shame. My parents +would not believe in my marriage; besides, the priest that had +married us, even the witnesses, had all been swept away by that weird +scavenger, the plague. I had no paper, no certificate, not even a +ring to show that I was married. Contumely was not enough; I was not +only treated by my parents with pitiless scorn, but I was, moreover, +turned out of their house. When our own parents shut their doors +against us, is it a wonder if the world is ruthless? + +"What was I to do? where was I to go? With the few roubles I had I +could not travel very far or live very long. I wandered to the castle +where my husband was living; I asked for him, but I was told that he +was ill." + +"But he was ill," said the Baron, "was he not?" + +"Perhaps his watery love had already flowed away, and he had given +orders not to receive me if I should present myself. For a moment I +stood rooted on the doorstep, bewildered, not knowing what to do; +then I asked to see his mother. This was only exposing myself to one +humiliation more. She came out in the hall; there she called me +bitter names, and when I told her that I had not a bed whereon to lie +that night, she replied that the Neva was always an available bed for +girls like me; then she ordered her servants to cast me out. + +"Houseless, homeless, almost penniless; my husband's mother was +right--the Neva was the only place where I could find rest. In its +fast-fleeting waters I might indeed find shelter. + +"With my thoughts all of suicide I directed myself towards the open +country, hoping soon to reach the banks of the broad river, for I was +not only tired out, but weak and faint for want of food. My legs at +last began to give way; weary, disheartened, I sank down by the +roadside and began to sob aloud. All at once I heard a creaking noise +of wheels, the tramp of horses, and merry human voices singing in +chorus. As I lifted up my head I saw two carts passing, wherein a +band of gipsies were all huddled together. Seeing my grief and +hearing my sobs, the driver stopped; a number of boys and young men, +girls and women jumped, crawled or scrambled down from the carts, as +crabs do out of a basket; then they all crowded around me to find out +what had befallen me. I would not answer their questions, nor could I +have done so even if I had wanted. I was almost too faint to speak. +An elderly woman, the chief's wife, pushed all the others aside, came +up to me, took my hand and examined it carefully; then she began to +speak in a language I did not understand. + +"'Poor child!' said she at last, patting my hair and kissing me on my +eyes; 'you are indeed in trouble; still, bright days are in store for +you; take courage, cheer up, live, for you will soon be a grand lady, +and then you will trample over all your enemies--yes, over every one +of them. You have no home,' said she, as if answering my own +thoughts; 'What does it matter? Have we a home? Have the little birds +that nestle in the leafy boughs a home? No, all the world is their +home. Come with us. You have no family; well, you will be our child.' + +"Saying this she gave an order to the men around her, and almost +before I was aware of it, half-a-dozen brawny arms lifted me tenderly +and placed me on a heap of clothes in one of the carts. Soon my +protectress was by my side whispering words of endearment in my ear; +and as for myself, weak and starving, forlorn and dejected as I was, +I cared very little what became of me. + +"The gipsy woman, who was versed in medicine, poured me out some kind +of cordial or sleeping draught and made me drink it; a few minutes +afterwards a pleasant drowsiness came over me, then I fell fast +asleep. I only awoke some hours later, and I found myself lying on a +mattress in a tent. I remained for some time bewildered, unable to +understand where and with whom I was; still, when I came to my senses +the keen edge of my grief was blunted. The gipsy woman, my +protectress, kissed me in a fond, mother-like way; then she brought +me a plate of food. + +"'Eat,' said she, 'grief has a much greater hold on an empty stomach +than on a satiated one.' + +"I was young and hungry; the smell of the food was good; I did not +wait to be asked twice. I never remembered to have tasted anything so +delicious. It was not soup, but a kind of savoury stew, containing +vegetables and meat--an _olla-podrida_ of ham, beef and poultry. +After that, they offered me some fragrant drink, which soon made me +feel drowsy, and then sent me off to sleep again. I woke early the +next morning, when they were about to start on their daily +wanderings. With my head still muddled with sleep, I was helped into +the cart, and sat down between my new friend and her husband. + +"That life in the open air, the kindness and good-humour of the +people amongst whom I lived, soothed and quieted me. All ideas of +suicide vanished entirely from my mind. Self-murder is an unknown +thing amongst gipsies. Besides, my friend assured me, again and +again, that I should soon become a very great lady, and then all my +enemies would be at my mercy. + +"'But how shall I ever repay you for your kindness?' I asked. + +"'The day will come when the hand of persecution will be uplifted +against us; then you alone will protect us.' + +"In the meanwhile I was treated like a queen by all of them. +Moreover, they were a wealthy band, possessing not only horses, carts +and tents, but also money. They might have lived comfortably in some +town, or settled as farmers somewhere; but their life was by far too +pleasant to give it up. Heedless, jovial, contented people, their +only care seemed to be where they were to have their next meal. + +"A few months afterwards, my daughter was born in a tent, not far +from Warsaw." + +"She must have been a great comfort to you," quoth the Baron, +thinking he ought to say something appropriate. + +"A comfort? The unwished-for child of a man that had blighted my +life, a comfort? No, indeed, Baron. In fact, I saw very little of +this daughter of mine; a young gipsy nursed her and took care of her. +My own parents had taught me what love was. My husband's mother--a +grand lady--thought that the Neva was the best cradle for her unborn +grandchild. Besides, other work was waiting for me than nursing and +rearing Anya. + +"Count Yarnova one day met our band of gipsies on the road, and he +stretched his ungloved hand to have his fate read and explained. My +friend--no ordinary fortune-teller--was well versed in palmistry, and +a most lucid thought-reader; she told him that before the year was +out he would be a married man. + +"'In a few days,' added she, 'on Christmas Eve, you will see your +young bride in your own mirror; you will see her again after a few +days, and she will tend upon you and cure you from a fever when the +doctor's help will be worse than useless. As soon as you get well you +will start on a journey; then you will stop for some days in two +large towns, both of which begin with the same letter; there you will +see again that beautiful child you saw on Christmas Eve.' + +"'But when and where shall I meet her, not as a vision, but as a real +person?' + +"The Baron wore on the forefinger of his right hand a kind of magic +ring, in which a little crystal ball was set. The gipsy lifted the +Baron's hand to her eyes and looked at the crystal ball for a few +seconds. + +"'It is spring,' said she; 'the trees are in bloom, and Nature wears +her festive garb. In a splendid saloon, where all the furniture is of +gold and the walls are covered with rich silks, I see a handsome +young girl dressed in spotless white, holding a guitar and singing; +behind her there is a mass of flowers; around her gentlemen and +ladies are listening to the sound of her sweet voice.' + +"Count Yarnova was a Swedenborgian, and he not only believed in the +occult art, but had dabbled himself in magic, until his rather weak +mind was somewhat unhinged. He, of course, did not doubt the truth of +what the gipsy had foretold him; moreover, he was right, because +everything happened exactly as she had predicted. + +"On Christmas Eve the Count was alone in his room sitting at a little +table reading, and glancing every now and then, first at a clock, +afterwards at a huge cheval-glass opposite the alcove. All the +servants of the house, except his valet--a young gipsy of our band +--had gone to Mass, according to the custom of the place. At half-past +eleven my friends accompanied me to the Count's palace; the valet +opened the door noiselessly and led me unseen, unheard, in the +alcove. I was dressed in white and shrouded in a mass of silvery +veils. On the stroke of twelve I appeared between the two draped +columns which formed the opening of the alcove; the light hanging in +the middle of the room was streaming on me, and my image, reflected +in the glass, looked, in fact, like a vision. The Count, seeing it, +heaved a deep breath, started to his feet, drew back, stood still for +an instant, uttered an exclamation of surprise, then made a step +towards the looking-glass. At that moment the valet opened the door +as if in answer to his master's summons. The Count looked round, +thus giving me time to slip away; when he glanced again at the mirror +I had disappeared. Then the thought came to him that the image he had +seen within the glass was only the reflection of some one standing in +the alcove; he ordered the valet to look within the inner part of the +room, and when the servant man assured him that there was nobody, he +ventured to look in it himself. The valet swore that nobody had come +in the house, and by the time the servants returned from midnight +Mass I was already far away. + +"The Count had not been well for some days, and the shock he received +upset his nerves in such a way that he took to his bed with a kind of +brain fever. I attended him during his illness whilst he was +delirious, and when he recovered he had a slight remembrance of me, +just as of a vision we happen to see in a dream. He asked if a young +girl had not tended him during his illness; his valet and the other +servants told him that a mysterious stranger had come to take care of +him, and that she had soothed him much more by placing her hand upon +his brow, than all the doctor's stuff had done; still, no one had +ever seen her before, or knew where she had come from. + +"As soon as the Count was strong enough to travel, he decided to go +and visit some of the large towns of Europe, thus hoping to find me. + +"The vigilant eye of the police had long suspected Yarnova of being +an agitator; some letters addressed to him, and some of his own +writings on occult lore, had been strangely misinterpreted, and from +that time a constant watch had been held over him. No sooner had he +started than information was sent to the police that he was +conspiring against the Government, and thus I managed to be sent +after him and watch over him. Money, passports, and letters of +introduction to the ambassadors were handed to me. + +"Vienna was one of the towns where he stopped for a few days. A +follower of Cagliostro's was at that time showing there the phantoms +of the living, and those of the dead--not for money, of course, but +for any slight donation the visitors were pleased to give. The gipsy, +who accompanied Yarnova as valet, came to inform me that the Count +intended to go to this spiritualistic séance. The medium was also +acquainted of the fact, and for a slight consideration I was allowed +to appear before the public as my own materialised spirit. How most +of the ghosts were shown to the public, I cannot tell; I only know +that I appeared on a dimly-lighted stage, behind a thick gauze +curtain, wrapped up in a cloud of tulle, whilst harps and viols were +playing some weird funereal dirges. The people--huddled all together +in a dark corner--saw, I fancy, nothing but vague, dim forms passing +or floating by; but they were so anxious to be deceived that they +would have taken the wizard at his word, even if he had shown them an +ape and told them it was their grandmother. + +"When Yarnova saw me, he got so excited that it was with the greatest +difficulty that he could be kept quiet. + +"On the morrow the Count started for Venice, this being the nearest +town the name of which began with the same letter as Vienna. We got +there on the last days of the Carnival; an excellent time for the +purpose I had in hand, as the whole town seemed to have gone stark +mad. The Piazza San Marco was like a vast pandemonium, where dominoes +of every hue glided about, and masks of every kind walked, ran and +capered, or pushed their way through the dense crowd, chattering, +laughing, shouting. Bands of music were playing in front of several +coffee-houses, people were blowing horns; in fact, the uproar was +deafening. Dressed up as a Russian gipsy, and masked, I met the Count +on the square, and I told him all that had happened to him from the +day he had met the gipsies on the road. I only managed to escape from +him when he was stopped by a wizard--his own valet--who told him he +would see again that evening, at the masked ball of the Venice +theatre, the beautiful girl whose vision he had seen in his own +castle on Christmas Eve. + +"The Count, of course, went to the masked ball, followed by his valet +and myself, both in dominoes. Seeing a box empty, I went in it, +remained rather in the background, took off my hood and appeared in +the white veils, as he had already seen me twice. As soon as I +appeared, the valet, who was standing behind his master, laid his +hand on the Count's shoulder and whispered to him: 'Yarnova, look at +that lady in that box on the second tier--the third from the stage.' +The Count saw me, uttered an exclamation of surprise, turned round to +find out who had spoken to him; but the black domino had slipped away +amongst the crowd. I remained in the same position for a few moments, +then I put on my domino and mask and left the box. I met the Count +coming up, but, in the crowd, he, of course, did not notice me. + +"A few days afterwards, we left Venice; even before the Carnival was +quite over." + +"I suppose you were sorry to leave that beautiful town of pleasure?" +said the Baron. + +"Very sorry indeed; still, there was something to me sweeter than +pleasure, young as I was." + +"What was it, Countess?" + +"Revenge, so sweet to all Slavs." + +"And you revenged yourself?" + +"I have bided my time, Baron; every knot comes to the comb, they +say." + +"Did they all come?" + +"Sooner or later, all, to the very last; some of my enemies even +rotted in the mines of Siberia----" + +The Baron shivered, thinking of his father. + +"Others----" The Countess, for a moment, seemed to be thinking of the +past. + +"Well?" + +"But it is my own story I am telling you, not theirs. Count Yarnova +and I reached Paris almost at the same time. On my arrival, I +presented myself at the Russian Embassy. As the Ambassadress happened +to be looking for a companion or reader, the place was offered to me; +I accepted it most willingly. A few days afterwards, I was informed +by the gipsy, that the Count was to call on the Ambassadress the next +day. I remembered the prediction; I did my best to bring it about. +The room was exactly like the one described by my friend the gipsy; +the furniture was gilt, the walls were covered over with old damask; +as the Ambassadress was fond of flowers, the room looked like a +hot-house. I had put on the same white dress in which he had already +seen me three times, and knowing the very moment the Count would +come, I spoke of Russian peasant songs; I mentioned the one I was to +sing, and being requested to sing it, I did so. Before I ended it, +the door was opened and Count Yarnova was announced. + +"I do not know whether his could be called love at first sight, but +surely everybody in the room thought that his sudden passion for me +had almost deprived him of his reason. + +"The Count called on the morrow, and asked if I could receive him; I +did so, and he at once confessed his love for me. He told me that +although he was old enough to be my father, still, he felt sure I +should in time be fond of him, for marriages being made in heaven, I +was ordained to be his wife. + +"I tried to explain the plight in which I found myself, but he +interrupted me at once, telling me that he knew everything. + +"'I am aware that you have been forsaken by a cruel-hearted man,' +said he, 'but henceforth I shall be everything to you.' + +"I summoned my courage, I spoke to him of my child. + +"'The child that was born on Christmas night?' + +"'Yes,' I answered below my breath. + +"'It is my own spiritual child,' said he. + +"I looked at him astonished. + +"'I know all about it,' he continued. 'On that night I saw you in a +vision, just as it had been predicted to me; I saw you just as I see +you now. That very night I had, moreover, a vision. I was married to +you, and---- but never mind about that dream. I have seen you after +that--first in this magic ring; then I saw you materialised at +Vienna, and again in Venice. Of course, it was not you, but your +double, for you were at that time here in Paris, quite unconscious, +quietly asleep, having, perhaps, a dream of what your other self was +seeing.' + +"Then he began to speak of materialisation, of the influence of +planets, in fact, of many chaotic and uninteresting things to which +I, apparently at least, listened with the greatest attention. I was +well repaid for my trouble, for a few weeks afterwards we were +married." + +"And your former husband?" + +"Was dead to me." + +"Did not the Government give you any trouble?" + +"The Russian Government knew that Countess Yarnova could be of great +help." + +"And was she?" + +"Even more than had been expected." + +The Countess paused a moment. "It happened that my enemies, Aleksij +Orsinski, were also those of my country, so I crushed them." + +The Baron trembled perceptibly. + +"But that is their own tale, not mine. We came back to Russia, my +husband worshipping me as a superhuman creature." + +"And you loved him?" + +"I loved but once." + +"Then you still loved the man who----" + +"Love either flows away like water, or it rankles in a festering +heart and changes into gall. At St. Petersburg I saw again my +parents. Their curse had fallen on their own heads; fortune's wheel +had turned--their wealth was all gone--they were paupers. How +despicable people are who, having once been rich, cannot get +reconciled to the idea of being poor! How mean all their little +makeshifts are! how cringing they get to be! You can even make them +swallow any amount of dirt for a dinner you give them. They are all +loathsome parasites. I might have ignored my parents--left them to +their fate, or else helped them anonymously. I went to see them; it +was so pleasant to heap burning coals on their heads. I doled out a +pittance to them, received their thanks, allowed them to kiss my +hands, knowing how they cursed me within their hearts. Gratitude is +the bitterest of all virtues; it sours the very milk of human +kindness." + +The Countess laughed a harsh, bitter, shrill laugh, and her guest +wiped the perspiration from his forehead. + +"I shall tell you all about them some other time, in the long winter +evenings when the wind howls outside and the country is all covered +with its pall of snow. It will be pleasant to sit by the fire and +tell you all these old family stories, Aleksij Orsinski." + +And the dark figure buried in the big arm-chair laughed again in a +mocking, discordant way. + +"After some years the Count died, and then I was left sole mistress +of all his wealth." + +"And Anya?" + +"Why, I hardly ever saw her. She was brought up here, in this dreary +old castle, like a sleeping beauty; you, like Prince Charming, came +to waken her up. You found her here by chance, did you not?" + +"Yes, Countess; I happened----" + +"Count Yarnova, likewise, found me by chance," said the woman in the +dark, jeeringly, and interrupting him. + +"What do you mean?" asked the Baron, breathing hard. + +"I mean that the last knot has come to the comb." Aleksij Orsinski +covered his face with his hands. + +"Perhaps, after all," he thought, "this is nothing but a hideous +dream." + +"Do you not find, Baron, that Anya, _your_ Anya as you call her, +reminds you of another girl, the girl you----" + +"Countess, for mercy's sake, I can bear this no longer; who are you?" + +The Baron, trembling, panting, sprang to his feet and went up to the +Countess. She thereupon threw off her mantilla, and appeared in the +bright light of the full moon, which was streaming through the +mullioned windows. + +The Baron stretched out his arms. + +"Jadviga!" he said, in a low, muffled tone; then he again covered his +face with his hands. + +"And now, Aleksij Orsinski, now that my story is at an end," said the +Countess, in a jeering tone; "now that, at last, you have wakened +from your day-dream, whom am I to call--Anya your fiancée, or Anya +your own daughter?" + +A low moan was the only answer. + +"Speak, man, speak!" said the Countess, sneeringly. + +Another moan was heard; not from the Baron, but from behind one of +the thick Arras portières. Then it moved, and Anya appeared within +the room. She advanced a few steps, stretched out her arms, just as +if she were walking in the dark; then, at last, she sank senseless +on the floor. The father ran to her, caught her up in his arms, +pressed her to his heart, tried to bring her back from her +fainting-fit, called her by the most endearing names; but, alas! she +was already beyond hearing him. + +"You have killed your daughter!" cried Aleksij, beside himself with +grief. + +"I?" said the Countess. + +"Yes, and you have blasted my life!" + +"Have you not blasted mine?" replied the Countess, laughing, and yet +looking as scared as a ghost. + +The Baron was moaning over his daughter's lifeless body. + +"You are happy, my Anya; but what is to become of me?" + +"Aleksij, rest can always be found within the waters of the Neva; its +bed is as soft as down, whilst the breeze blowing in the sedges sings +such a soft lullaby." + +Orsinski looked up at his wife. + +"I think you are right, Jadviga," said he. + +"Oh! I know I am," replied the Countess, bursting into a loud, +croaking, jarring fit of hysterical laughter. The Baron shuddered, +but the Countess laughed louder and ever louder, until the lofty room +resounded with that horrible, untimely merriment. + +And now, if you pass by the dreary and deserted old Yarnova Castle, +you will, perhaps, hear in the dead of the night those dreadful, +discordant peals of laughter, whilst the belated peasant who passes +by crosses himself devoutly on hearing that sound of fiendish mirth. + + +The southerly wind which had accompanied the _Giustizia di Dio_ to +Cape Salvore suddenly shifted, and a smacking northeasterly breeze +began to blow. The whole of that night was a most stormy one; still, +the ship bravely weathered the gale. At dawn the wind began to abate, +still the sea was very heavy. + +At about eight o'clock they perceived a ship, not only in distress, +but sinking fast. Milenko at once gave orders to reef the topsails +and tack about, so as to be able to approach the wreck, for the sea +was by far too heavy to allow them to use their boats. + +When they managed to get near enough to hear the shouts of the +starving crew, they found out that the sinking ship was the _Ave +Maria_, an Austrian barque. After much manoeuvring they got as close +to the stern of the sinking ship as they possibly could. Ropes were +then thrown across, so that the sailors might catch and tie them +around their bodies and jump into the sea. The weakest were first +helped to leap overboard, and then they were hauled into the +_Giustizia di Dio_, where they received all the help their state +required. + +Five men were thus saved, and then the two ships were driven apart by +the gale. A scene of despair at once ensued on board the _Ave Maria_, +which was sinking lower and lower. By dint of tacking about, the +_Giustizia di Dio_ was once more brought by the side of the wreck, +and then the captain and boatswain were saved; one of the men, who +was drunk, when about to be tied, reeled back to the wine, which, +apparently, was sweeter to him than life itself. + +Milenko, who had remained at the helm, now came to the prow. It was +just then that Vranic caught the rope that had been flung to him, and +tied it round his waist. He stood on the stern and was about to leap +into the foaming waves below. Milenko, who perceived him, uttered a +loud cry, almost a raucous cry of joy, just as mews do as they pounce +upon their prey. + +"Vranic at last!" said he. + +Vranic heard himself called; but, when he recognised his foe, it was +too late to keep back--he had already sprung into the sea. + +Milenko had snatched the rope from the hands of the sailor who had +thrown it. His first impulse was to cut the rope and leave his +friend's murderer to the mercy of the waves. + +Vranic, who had disappeared for an instant within the abyss of the +waters, was seen again, struggling in the midst of the whirling foam. +He looked up, and saw one of the _pobratim_ holding the rope. Milenko +remained for a moment undecided as to what he was to do. + +"Let me help you to pull up," said the boatswain. + +The young captain almost mechanically heaved up the rope, and was +astonished to find it so light. The rope came home; evidently it had +got undone, for Vranic was presently seen battling against the huge +billows, trying to regain the sinking ship. + +"What has happened?" + +"Did the rope get loose?" + +"Why did he not hold on?" + +"Why does he not try to catch it?" + +"Look, he is swimming back towards the wreck." + +"He must have cut the rope." + +These were the many exclamations of the astonished sailors. + +"Thank Heaven, he is guilty of his own blood," replied Milenko, "for +this is, after all, the justice of God." + +In fact, as soon as Vranic saw that it was Milenko himself who was +holding the rope that was tied round his waist, he pulled out the +black dagger that he always carried about him, and freed himself; +then he turned round and began to swim back towards the _Ave Maria_. +At the same time, a big wave came rolling over him; it uplifted and +dashed him against the sharp icicles hanging from the wrecked ship, +and which looked so many _chevaux de frise_. He tried to catch hold, +to cling to the frozen ropes, but they slipped from his grasp, and +the retreating surges carried him off and he disappeared for ever. + +The two vessels were parted once more, and Milenko, perceiving that +it was useless to remain there any longer and try and save the three +drunken sailors who had remained on board, thought it far more +advisable to proceed on to Trieste and send them help from there. + +When the _Giustizia di Dio_ reached Trieste, the storm had abated, +the wind had gone down, and the sea was almost calm. Help was at once +sent to the shipwrecked vessel, but, alas! all that could be seen of +the _Ave Maria_ was the utmost tops of her masts. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII + +THE WEDDING + + +Milenko had been most lucky in his voyages, and had reaped a golden +harvest. As steamers had not yet come into any practical use, and the +Adriatic trade was still a most prosperous one, ship-owners and +captains had a good time of it. In fact, his share of the profits was +such as to enable him to buy the ship on his own account. Still, now +that the _karvarina_ business was settled and Uros' death was +avenged, he did not care any more for a seafaring life; and, +moreover, his heart was at Nona with the girl he loved. + +The time he had been away had seemed to him everlastingly long, and, +besides, he had been all these months without any news from his +family. He was, therefore, overjoyed upon reaching Trieste to find a +whole packet awaiting him. + +The very first letter that caught his sight was one in a handwriting +which, although familiar, he could not recognise. Could it be from +Ivanka? Now that they were engaged, she, perhaps, had written to him; +still, it hardly seemed probable. Perhaps it was from Giulianic, for, +indeed, it was more of a man's than a woman's handwriting. Looking at +it closer, he thought, with a sigh, that if poor Uros were alive, he +would surely believe it came from him. At last he tore the letter +open. It began: + +"_Ljubi moj brati._" + +"Can it be possible," said Milenko to himself, "that Uros is still +alive?" + +He gave a glance at the signature; there was no more doubt about it, +the writer was Uros himself. In his joy, he pressed the letter to his +lips; then he ran over its contents, which were as follows: + + +"MY BELOVED BROTHER,--You will, doubtless, be very much surprised to +get this letter from me, as I do not think anybody has, as yet, +written to you; nor is it likely that you have met anyone from Budua +giving you our news. Therefore, as I think you believe me in my +coffin, it will be just like receiving a letter from beyond the +grave. Anyhow, if I am still alive, it is to you, my dear Milenko, +that I owe my life, nay, more than my life, my happiness. + +"The day you went away I remained for several hours in a +fainting-fit, just like a dead man. My heart had ceased to beat, my +limbs had grown stiff and cold; in fact, they say I was exactly like +a corpse. I think that, for a little while, I even lost the use of +all my senses. At last, when I came to myself, I could neither feel, +nor speak, nor move; I could only hear. I lived, as it were, rather +out of my body than within it. I heard weeping and wailing, and the +prayers for the dead were being said over me. My mother and Milena +were kissing my face and hands, and their tears trickled down on my +cold lips and eyelids. It was a moment of bitter anguish and +maddening terror. Should I lie stiff and stark, like a corpse, and +allow myself to be buried? The idea was so dreadful that it quite +paralysed me. I again, for a little while, lost all consciousness. +Little by little I recovered my senses; I could even open my eyes; I +uttered a few faint words. In fact, I was alive. From that moment I +began to recover my strength. In less than a fortnight I was able to +rise from my bed. From that day my mother's visits not only were +shorter, but Milena ceased to come. They told me that the monks had +objected to her presence. I was afraid this was an excuse, and, in +fact, I soon found out that she had been at the point of death, and, +as she was at our house now, my mother was taking care of her. Her +illness protracted my own, and my strength seemed once more to pass +away. But Milena returned to me, and soon afterwards I was able to +leave the convent. + +"Can I describe my happiness to you, friend of my heart? You yourself +will shortly be married to the girl you are fond of, and then you +will know all the bliss of loving and being loved. + +"But enough of this, for you will say that either my illness or my +stay in the convent has made me maudlin, sentimental--and, perhaps, +you will not be quite wrong. + +"Let me rather ask you, captain, how you have been faring, and on +what seas you have been tossing. Oh! how I long to hear from you, and +to see you. I hope you will soon be back amongst us, where a great +happiness is in store for you; but more than that I cannot say. + +"I sincerely trust you have not met with my enemy, and that your +hands are not stained with blood. God has dealt mercifully towards +me; He has raised me, as it were, from the dead. Let us leave that +wretched wanderer to his fate. Moreover, the first day I was able to +leave my cell I walked, or rather I should say I crawled, to church +to hear Mass. It was on Rose Sunday, which, as you know, is a week +after Easter, and the convent garden was in all its youthful beauty. +The priest recited the Scriptures for the day, and amongst the other +beautiful things that he read were these words, which seemed +addressed to me; they were: 'Vengeance is mine, saith the Lord.' +Hearing them in church, I almost fancied it was God Himself speaking; +and they made such an impression upon me, that I swore to forego all +thoughts of _karvarina_, feeling sure that the Almighty will, sooner +or later, keep the promise He made to me. + +"If I did not know you, my dear Milenko, I might imagine you saying +to yourself: 'His illness has crushed all manly spirit out of him.' +Still, I feel sure you will not say that of me. + +"How often I have been thinking of you, especially the day I left the +convent; and on my wedding-day my thoughts were more with you than at +home. + +"Have your ventures been prosperous? Anyhow, do not invest more money +in new ships, for our fathers have just bought a very large schooner. +It had been built for a ship-owner, who, having laid out more money +in his trade than he could afford, was only too glad to dispose of +it. The christening will take place as soon as you come back. Of +course, the name chosen is _The Pobratim_. + +"I do not write to you anything about your family, for your father +has written to you several times, although, by the letters we have +from you, none of them seem to have reached you as yet. "UROS." + + +Milenko hastened to open his father's letters, and he found there the +"happiness which was in store for him," to which Uros alluded, for +Bellacic wrote: + +"You will be surprised to hear that we have a new addition to our +circle of friends, a family you are well acquainted with. I do not +ask you to guess who these people are, for you would never do so. +Therefore, I shall tell you Giulianic has come to settle in Budua. +The country round Nona, which, as you know, is rather marshy and +consequently unhealthy, never agreed with any of them; for reasons +best known to themselves they have chosen Budua as their residence. I +had known Giulianic years ago, and I was very glad to renew his +acquaintance; your mother is greatly taken up with his daughter, who +seems to cling to her as to a mother. It appears that when Uros met +them last, he played some practical kind of joke upon them and +rendered himself rather obnoxious; but his marriage has settled the +matter to everybody's satisfaction, especially to Ivanka's, for she +and Milena are already great friends. I need not tell you how much +your mother longs to have you back." + +Milenko, after reading all his letters, could hardly master his +impatience any longer; a feeling of home-sickness oppressed him to +such a degree that, in his longing, he almost felt tempted to leave +his ship and run away. But as ill-luck would have it he could not +find a cargo either for Cattaro or Budua; therefore, having unloaded +his ship, he bought a cargo of timber, which then found a ready +market everywhere, and sailed at once for his native town. + +"The north-easterly wind 'll just last all the way out of the +Adriatic," said Janovic, the new boatswain they had engaged in +Trieste, "and we'll get to Budua in three days, so we'll have just +time to unload and go to Cattaro for the feast of San Trifone and the +grand doings of the _marinerezza_, that is, if the captain 'll give +us leave." + +"Oh, that 'll be delightful," replied Peric, "for I've not seen it +yet. What is it like?" + +"The feast of the _marinerezza_," said Janovic, sententiously, "is +more beautiful than any kind of pageantry I've seen; why, the +carnival of Benetke" (Venice), "the procession of _Corpus Domini_ in +Trst" (Trieste), "or the feast of the _Ramazan_, at Carigrad" +(Constantinople), "cannot be compared to it. So it's useless my +describing it to you; it's a thing you must see for yourself." + +Five days after their departure from Trieste, the _Giustizia di Dio_ +was casting her anchor in the roads of Budua. Although winter was not +yet over, spring seemed already to have set in; the sky was of a +fathomless blue, the sun was warm and of an effulgent brightness, the +brown almond-trees were covered with white blossoms; Nature had +already put on her festive garb. + +His two fathers, his brother of adoption, Giulianic, Danko Kvekvic, +and a host of friends, were waiting on the shore to welcome him back. +Then they accompanied him all in a body to his house. His mother, +Mara Bellacic and Milena were waiting for him on the threshold. +Presently, Giulianic went to fetch his wife and daughter. Ivanka came +trying to hide her blushes; nay, to appear indifferent and demure. In +front of so many people, Milenko himself felt awkward, and still +there was such a wistful, longing look of pent-up love in his +searching glances as he bashfully shook hands with her, that, in her +maidenly coyness, her eyelids drooped down, so that their long dark +lashes kissed her blushing cheeks. + +That day seemed quite a festivity for the little town. The _pobratim_ +had many friends; and besides, all the persons who had taken the +awful oath of the _karva tajstvo_ were anxious to know if Captain +Milenko had met Vranic during the many months that he had been away; +therefore, Markovic's house was, till late at night, always crowded +with people. + +When Milenko related to them how he had tried to save Vranic, and how +miserably the poor wretch had perished, everybody crossed himself +devoutly, and extolled the God of the Orthodox faith as the true God +of the _karvarina_. + +A few days after Milenko's arrival, his father went to Giulianic and +asked him for Ivanka's hand. + +"I am only too happy to give her to the man of her choice," said +Giulianic, "for although I had, indeed, accepted Uros for my +son-in-law, still I did so only in mistake. Not only was it Milenko +who first gallantly exposed his life to save us, but Ivanka, as she +confessed to her mother, fell in love with him the very moment she +awoke from her fainting-fit and found herself in his arms. Of course, +she ought never to have done so, for no proper girl ought ever to +fall in love but with the man chosen by her parents; still, young +people are young people all the world over, you know," said +Giulianic, apologisingly. + +After that, the fathers discussed the dower, and the mothers talked +about the outfit, the kitchen utensils, and the furnishing of the +house. + +Then followed a month of perfect bliss. During that time, they went +occasionally to look after the schooner, which was being fitted up +with far more luxury than sailing ships usually were; they visited +their fields and their vineyards; but most of their time was spent in +merry-making. + +One day they all went on a pilgrimage to the Convent of St. George, +where they left rich gifts to the holy caloyers for Uros' recovery; +another day they visited the famous subterranean chapel of Pod-Maini, +adorned with beautiful Byzantine frescoes. They also showed Ivanka +the tower where Boskovic, the great magician, lived; but she, being a +stranger, had never heard of him; and so they told her that he was an +astrologer who possessed a telescope with which he read all the names +of the stars. + +Another time they went for a sail on the blue, translucent waters, +and Milenko showed his bride that high rock jutting over the sea, +which is situated half-way between Castel Lastua and Castel Stefano, +and known as the Skoce Djevojka (The Young Girl's Leap). + +"Did a young girl jump down from that height?" asked Ivanka, +shuddering. + +"Yes. She was a young girl of exceeding beauty, from the neighbouring +territory of Pastiovic, and to escape from a Turk who was pursuing +her she threw herself down into the abyss beneath. But I'll tell you +her story at full length some other time." + +Although the hand of time seemed to move very slowly, still the month +of courtship came to an end. Now all the preparations for the wedding +were ready, for the nuptials were to be solemnised with great pomp +and splendour. + +On the morning of that eventful day, everyone connected with the +wedding had risen at daybreak to attend to the numerous preparations +required. The principal room in Giulianic's house had been cleared of +all the furniture, so as to make room for the breakfast table, which +was to be spread there. At that early hour, already the lady of the +house was presiding over the women in the kitchen, who were cooking a +number of young lambs and kids, roasting huge pieces of beef, +numberless fowls on spits, or baking _pojace_ (unleavened bread) on +heated stones. + +The men, as a rule, fussed about, creating much confusion, as men +usually do on such occasions. They fidgeted and worried lest +everything should not be ready in time. They delayed everything, and, +moreover, kept wanting and asking for all kinds of impossible things. +The barbers' shops were all crowded. At a certain hour--when the +bridegroom was expected--a number of people had gathered round about +the house to see him come. At the gate, for Giulianic's villa was out +of the town walls, two sentinels were placed to keep watch. The elder +was Zwillievic, Milena's father, who had come from Montenegro for the +purpose; tall and stalwart, with his huge moustache and his +glittering weapons at his belt, he was a fierce guard, indeed. The +other was Lilic, only a youth, who for self-defence had but a strong +stick. + +Both of them were very merry, withal they seemed to be expecting some +powerful foe against whose assault they were well prepared. The +youth, especially, was so full of his mission, that he hardly dared +to take any notice of the loungers who crowded thereabouts. + +At last there was a bustle, and the guards were on the alert. + +"Here they are, here they are!" shouted the children. + +The persons expected were in sight, and, except for their rich +festive attire, they looked, indeed, as if they were bent upon some +predatory expedition, so manly and warlike was their gait. + +The persons expected were about twelve in number; that is to say, the +bridegroom and his followers--the _svati_, or knights. + +Milenko wore the beautiful dress of the Kotor. Like his train, he had +splendid bejewelled daggers and pistols stuck in his leather girdle, +and a gun slung across his shoulder. + +They all walked gravely, two by two, up to the garden-gate of +Giulianic's house; there they were stopped by the sentinels. + +"Who are you?" said Zwillievic. "Who are you, who, armed to the +teeth, dare to come up to this peaceful dwelling?" + +"We are," answered the _voivoda_, the head of the _svati_, "all men +from this beautiful town of Budua." + +"And what is your motive for coming here?" + +"We are in search of a beautiful bird that inhabits this +neighbourhood." + +"And what do you wish to do with the beautiful bird?" + +"We wish to take it away with us." + +"And supposing you succeeded in finding it, are you clever enough to +capture it?" + +"All men of the Kotor are clever hunters," answered the _voivoda_, +proudly, and showing Milenko. "This one is the cleverest of all." + +"If you are not only clever in words, show us your skill." + +An old red cap was brought forth and placed upon a stone--it +represented the allegorical bird--and the young men fired at it. As +almost all of them were excellent marksmen, the cap was soon +afterwards but a burning rag. + +Having thus shown their skill, they were allowed to enter within the +yard, where more questioning took place. At the door of the house +they were met by Giulianic and his wife, by whom they were +cross-examined for the last time. + +Having once more proved themselves to be a party of honest hunters, +they were all welcomed and allowed to go into the house to see if +they could find the beautiful bird. + +The _svati_ were led into the principal room, where the table was +laid, and there begged to sit down and partake of some refreshments. +All the young men sat down, each one according to his rank, all +keeping precisely the same order as they had done in marching. + +Milenko alone did not join his friends at table, for he had at once +gone off in search of the allegorical bird. The breakfast having at +last reached its end, and the company seeing that, apparently, the +hunter had not been very fortunate in his search, two of the +_svati_--the _bariactar_ and the _ciaus_--volunteered to go to his +assistance; and soon afterwards they reappeared, bringing back with +them the beautiful, blushing girl decked out in her wedding attire. +Her clothes were of red velvet, brocade and satin, richly embroidered +in gold, heirlooms which had been in the family for, perhaps, more +than a century, and worn by the grandmother and the mother on similar +occasions. + +For the first time Ivanka now appeared without her red cap, which in +Dalmatia is only worn by girls as the badge of maidenhood. Her long +tresses formed a natural coronet; they were interwoven with ribbons +of many colours, and adorned with sprays of fresh flowers. + +A universal shout greeted her appearance, and when the +congratulations came to an end, the bride got ready to leave her +home. Before going away she went to receive her father's blessing; +then her mother clasped her in her arms and kissed her repeatedly. +Then, after having expressed her wishes for her future happiness in +homely though pathetic words, she reminded her of her duties as a +wife and as a bride. + +"Remember, my daughter," said she, "that you must love your husband +as the turtle-dove loves her mate, for the poor bird pines away and +dies in widowhood rather than be unfaithful. Milenko might have many +defects--what man is perfect?--but you should be the first to +extenuate them, the last to proclaim them to the world; moreover, +whatever be his conduct to you, bear in mind that you must never +render evil for evil. The heart of a man is moved by patience and +long-suffering, just as huge rocks are moved by drops of rain falling +from the sky. When a husband comes back to his senses, then he is +grateful to his wife, and cherishes her more than before." + +Ivanka was afterwards reminded of her duties to her near relations, +for, in those times, and amongst those primitive people, the wit of a +nation did not consist in turning mothers-in-law into ridicule. + +She then finished her short speech, drawing tears, not only from her +daughter, but even from the eyes of many a swarthy, long-whiskered +bystander. + +Before starting, however, another ceremony had to be performed. It +was that of taking possession of the chest containing all the bride's +worldly goods, and on which were displayed the beautiful presents the +bride had received. Amongst these were, as usual, two distaffs and a +spindle, for spinning had not yet entirely gone out of fashion. +Still, these were only the signs of the bride's industry. + +A little imp of a boy, + + "Hardi comme un coq sur son propre fumier," + +was seated on the chest, and he kept a strict watch over it. He had +been told to fight whosoever attempted to lay hands on it, and he, +therefore, took his part seriously. He scratched, bit, kicked and +pummelled all those who attempted to come near it. At last, having +received some cakes and a piece of silver money, he was induced to +give up the trunk to the _svati_, who carried it off. + +The bride then left the house amongst the shouting and the firing of +the multitude, and the whole train, walking two by two, proceeded to +church. + +Lilic and Zwillievic likewise joined the train, for now that the bird +had flown away from the nest their task was over. + +As they walked along together, the youth said to the old man: + +"I am sorry for poor Milenko, after all." + +"Why?" asked Zwillievic. + +"Eh! because Ivanka 'll bury him." + +"How do you know that?" quoth the Montenegrin, astonished. + +"Because, you see, Ivanka's name has an even number of letters; +therefore, she'll outlive her husband." + +"I see," replied Zwillievic; "I had never thought of that." + +After the lengthy Orthodox service, and its chorographic-like +evolutions, Danilo Kvekvic made a short speech to the newly-married +couple, whom he blessed, and then the wedding ceremony came to an +end. + +The nuptial party finally arrived at Milenko's house, followed by an +ever-increasing crowd, and when the shouting and the firing began +anew, the whole town knew that the bride had arrived at her new home. + +Ivanka was received at the door of Milenko's house by his father and +mother, and there, after the usual welcome, she was presented with +two distaffs, two spindles, and a baby-boy, borrowed for the +occasion. The child is to remind her that she is expected to be the +mother of many boys, for children are still, in Dalmatia, considered +as blessings. + +Here, also, the principal apartment had been cleared of all its +furniture to make room for the wedding table. At this feast, the +givers being people who had seen a great deal of the world and who +had adopted new-fangled ideas, married women were also invited. + +The banquet, if not exactly choice, was certainly copious, and it +reminded one more of the grand Homeric feasts than the modern +dinner-parties. It was composed chiefly of huge dishes of rice, whole +lambs roasted, fish and fowl; and it was a great joy for the givers +of the feast to see that host of friends eating with a good appetite +and enjoying themselves. + +Before they had sat down a _dolibasa_, or head-drinker, had been +chosen. His functions corresponded, in some degree, with those of the +symposiarch of the ancient Greeks. He now presided over the table as +an autocrat, and ordered the number of toasts which he thought fit +should be drunk. + +No sooner had they sat down than the _dolibasa_ uttered a loud +"_Zivio!_" in honour of the beautiful bride; pistols were fired, and +forthwith all the guests emptied their glasses. The ladies, however, +were excluded from the drinking, for, whenever a "Hip, hip, hurrah!" +was uttered, the guests had to drain the contents of their tumblers, +and not simply to lift them up to their lips, or, at most, sip a few +drops of the wine. As for the poor wretch who could not comply with +the _dolibasa_'s orders, he had to leave the table, and some +humiliating punishment was invented for him. + +As the feast lasted for several days, the dinner did not really come +to an end at once. The eating and drinking were, however, interrupted +for a short time by the _Kolo_, which took place in the yard, +festively decorated with lanterns, flags and greenery. The ball, of +course, was opened by Ivanka and Milenko. The _Kolo_ they danced this +time was the graceful _skocci-gorri_, or the jumping step, which is +something like a _Varsovienne_, only that the couples, instead of +clasping hands, dance it holding the ends of a twisted kerchief. + +As the newly-married couple danced, the _bariactar_, or flag-bearer, +followed every step they made, waving his banner, holding a decanter +of wine upon his head, and performing behind them various antics to +amuse the crowd. + +When the _Kolo_ had lasted long enough--for, as the proverb says, +"Even a fine dance wearies"--the bride and bridegroom retired into +the house, and eating and drinking began again with renewed mirth. At +last, when the merriment had become uproarious, the young couple rose +and left the table. They went and knelt down before Janko Markovic, +who blessed them, holding a small loaf of bread over their heads; +then, having given it to them, he bade them begone, in the name of +God. + +They were then accompanied to their bridal chamber by Uros and +Milena, who helped them to undress, though, according to the +traditional custom, this office belonged to the _voivoda_, the +_bariactar_, and several of the other _svati_. + +The _dolibasa_ thereupon uttered a loud "_Zivio!_" which was echoed +by everyone in the room, and bumpers were again quaffed down. + +The _bariactar_ thereupon made some appropriate and spicy jokes, the +_svati_ did their best to outwit him, the youths winked at the girls, +who tried to blush and look demure. + +The music played, the _guzlars_ sang an epithalamium, to which +everyone present joined in chorus. At last the _voivoda_ and the +principal _svati_ went and knocked at the door of the bridal chamber, +and asked the hunter to relate his adventures and his success. Then +the proofs of the _consummatum est_ having been brought forth, +pistols, blunderbusses, and guns were fired, to announce the happy +event to the whole town, and the drinking began again. + +Eight days of festivities ensued, during which time--although the +eating and drinking continued in the same way--the scene varied from +one house to the other. + +At last, the new ship being christened and launched, it was soon +rigged out, all decked with flags and streamers. Then Milenko and +Uros embarked with their wives, delighted at the prospect of seeing +something of the world. On a beautiful May morning the white sails +were unfurled, the anchor was heaved, and the beautiful vessel began +to glide slowly on the smooth, glassy waters, like a snowy swan. The +crowd gathered on the beach fired off their pistols and shouted with +joy. The women waved their handkerchiefs. + +Soon, nothing more was seen but a dim speck in the grey distance. +Then the crowd wended their way homewards, for they had seen the last +of the _pobratim_. + +THE END. + + +H. S. NICHOLS, PRINTER, 3, SOHO SQUARE, LONDON, W. + + + + +Transcriber's Changes: + +Chapter 1 + +Uros and Milenko, therefore, begged the good old woman +was originally +Ivo and Milenko, therefore, begged the good old woman + + +Chapter 2 + +"Oh, I see, you don't want to tell me; +was originally +"Oh, I see, you dont want to tell me; + +your wife is honest," +was originally +your wife is honest,' + +The bard thereupon scraped his _guzla_, +was originally +The bard thereupon scraped his _guzlar_, + +and stop him on his way. Uros in the meanwhile took to his heels. +was originally +and stop him on his way Uros in the meanwhile took to his heels. + +stop talking," said Radonic, sullenly. +was originally +stop talking," said Radonic, sullenly, + + +Chapter 3 + +the yule-log, the huge bole of an olive tree, +was originally +the yule-log, the huge bowl of an olive tree, + +Whilst their own curses were their only knell! +was originally +Whilst their owh curses were their only knell! + + +Chapter 4 + +related to his hosts the story of his adventures, +was originally +related to his guests the story of his adventures, + +"'I thought you were a Slav; +was originally +"I thought you were a Slav; + + +Chapter 6 + +Once she is in my stronghold of Stermizza +was originally +Once she is in my stronghold of Sternizza + +"The father looked at his child, astonished. +was originally +The father looked at his child, astonished. + +"Sarè heaved a deep sigh of relief. +was originally +Sarè heaved a deep sigh of relief. + + +Chapter 7 + +and other such omens of ill-luck. +was originally +and other such omens o ill-luck. + + +I can tell you; will you have some more?' +was originally +I can tell you; will you have some more? + +You hear, madam? you hear, darling? +was originally +You hear, madam? you hear darling? + + +Chapter 8 + +I have lulled all his suspicions, +was originally +I have lulled all his susspicions, + + "'Tis well, +But on the holy Cross now take an oath." +was originally + "'Tis well, +"But on the holy Cross now take an oath." + +Then, waking up as from some frightful dream: +was originally +Then, waking up as from some frightful dream . + +"Here," said Bellacic, "have a glass +was originally +"Here," said Bellacic. "have a glass + +"There! listen," said he, staring vacantly; "did you not hear?" +was originally +"There! listen, said he," staring vacantly; "did you not hear?" + +"I heard a loud voice; didn't you hear it?" +was originally +"I heard a loud voice; did'nt you hear it?" + + +Chapter 10 + +"I was marvelled to hear how you fell in with the Giulianics, +was originally +"I was marvelled to hear how you fell in with the Giulanics, + +not having heard of the Giulianics for so many years, +was originally +not having heard of the Giulanics for so many years, + + +Chapter 12 + +Milenko was set free, the _pobratim_ set sail +was originally +Milenko was set free the _pobratim_ set sail + +about whom Captain Panajotti had often spoken +was originally +about whom Captain Vassili had often spoken + +I told you I'd not brook contradiction to-day. +was originally +I told you I'd not brook contradiction to day. + +Milos Bellacic, I'm quite satisfied." +was originally +Milos Bellacic, I'm quite satisfied.' + + +Chapter 13 + +she would have to keep away from the sight +was originally +she would have keep to away from the sight + + +Chapter 15 + +Sit down and rest," said she, "and let me give you +was originally +Sit down and rest," said she, and let me give you + + + +Chapter 18 + +turning to Milenko +was originally +turning to Milos + +And then he said: "My daughter, as thy suite, +was originally +And then he said: "My daughter as thy suite, + +And as she crossed the squares, the crowded streets, +was originally +And as she crossed the squares, the crowded streets + +As well as every lady of her suite, +was originally +As well as every lady of her suite + +She hastened to reply unto the saint, +was originally +She hastened to reply unto the saint + + +Chapter 19 + +young man"--pointing to Milenko--"were also +was originally +young man--pointing to Milenko--"were also + +I, Milenko Markovic, his _pobratim_; +was originally +I, Milos Markovic, his _pobratim_; + + +Chapter 21 + +at least three times what he would have asked +was originally +as least three times what he would have asked + +That evening they made a hearty meal, +was originally +"That evening they made a hearty meal, + + +Chapter 22 + +seated by a newly-dug grave?" +was originally +seated by a newly dug-grave?" + +the Count was to call on the Ambassadress +was originally +the Count was to call on the Ambrssadress + +for a few weeks afterwards we were married." +was originally +for a few week's afterwards we were married." + +"After some years the Count died, +was originally +"After some years the Baron died, + + +Chapter 23 + +Danilo Kvekvic made a short speech to the newly-married couple +was originally +Danilo Kvekvic made a short speech to the newly-married coupled + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Pobratim, by P. 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Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + https://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. diff --git a/34905-8.txt b/34905-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..aadbcb7 --- /dev/null +++ b/34905-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,19841 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Pobratim, by P. Jones + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Pobratim + A Slav Novel + +Author: P. Jones + +Release Date: January 10, 2011 [EBook #34905] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE POBRATIM *** + + + + +Produced by Catherine B. Krusberg + + + + + + +THE POBRATIM + +A SLAV NOVEL + +BY + +PROF. P. JONES + +LONDON + +H. S. NICHOLS + +3 SOHO SQUARE and 62A PICCADILLY W + +MDCCCXCV + +[_All Rights Reserved._] + + + +_Printed and Published by_ + +H. S. NICHOLS + +AT 3, SOHO SQUARE, LONDON, W + + + +TO + +HIS HIGHNESS + +PRINCE NICHOLAS OF MONTENEGRO + +THIS BOOK IS HUMBLY DEDICATED. + + P. JONES + +TRIESTE, +17_th June_, 1895. + + + +CONTENTS + +ST. JOHN'S EVE + +THE BOND OF FRIENDSHIP + +CHRISTMAS EVE + +NEW YEAR'S DAY + +DUCK SHOOTING AT NONA + +THE BULLIN-MOST + +SEXAGESIMA + +MURDER + +THE HAYDUK + +PRINCE MATHIAS + +MANSLAUGHTER + +MARGARET OF LOPUD + +STARIGRAD + +THE "KARVARINA" + +A COWARD'S VENGEANCE + +THE VAMPIRE + +THE FACE IN THE MIRROR + +THE CONVENT OF ST. GEORGE + +THE "KARVA TAJSTVO" + +"SPERA IN DIO" + +FLIGHT + +THE "GIUSTIZIA DI DIO" + +THE WEDDING + + + + +POBRATIM + + + + +CHAPTER I + +ST. JOHN'S EVE + + +There was quite a bustle at Budua, because Janko Markovic and Milos +Bellacic had just come back from Cattaro that very morning, and--what +was really surprising--they were both getting shaved. + +Now, it has always been a most uncommon occurrence amongst us for a +man to get shaved on a Friday. + +Mind, I do not mean to say that I consider this operation as being in +any way unlucky if performed on that day. We, of course, cut our hair +during the new moon; but there is no special time for shaving. +Cutting one's nails on a Saturday brings on illnesses, as we all +know; and I, without being superstitious, can name you lots of people +who fell ill simply out of disregard to the wisdom of their elders. +Nay, I myself once suffered a dreadful toothache for having +thoughtlessly pared my nails on the last Saturday of the year. + +Shaving on Saturday, however, cannot be considered as harmful +either to the body or to the soul. Still, as we all go to the +barber's once a week, on Sunday morning, it has hitherto been +regarded as part of our dominical duties. + +There was, therefore, some particular reason that made these +prominent citizens shave on a Friday; could the reason be another +change in the Government? + +Quite a little crowd had gathered, by ones and by twos, round the +hairdresser's shop; some were standing, others sitting, some smoking, +others eating dried melon seeds--all were gravely looking at the +barber, who was holding Bellacic by the tip of his nose and was +scraping his cheek with a razor which kept making a sharp, stridulous +noise as it cut down the crisp, wiry stubble hair of almost a week's +growth. Then the shaver left the nose, for, as a tuft of hair in a +hollow spot under the cheek-bone was renitent to the steel blade, he +poked his thumb in his customer's mouth, swelled out the sunken spot +and cleaned it beautifully. He was a real artist, who took a pride in +doing his work neatly. He then wiped the ends on his finger, cast the +soap to the ground with a jerk and a snap, then he rubbed his hand on +the head of an urchin standing by. + +The barber, who was as inquisitive and as loquacious as all the +Figaros of larger towns, had tried craftily and with many an ambage +to get at the information we were all so anxious to know; but +nothing seemed to induce our clients to speak. + +"I suppose," said he, with a pleasant smile, "I'll soon have new +customers to shave?" + +"Yes? Who?" quoth Markovic. + +"Why, your sons, Uros and Milenko." + +"No, not yet; they'll not be back before some months." + +All conjectures and guesses, all suppositions and surmises were at +last at an end. The barber, although he had been a long time about +it, had finished shaving Bellacic; Markovic was now sitting down with +the towel tied round his neck. + +"This afternoon we start for Cettinje," said Bellacic, wiping himself. + +An "Ah!" of satisfaction and expectation was followed by a moment +of breathless silence. The barber stopped soaping his client's face +and turned to look at Bellacic. + +"On a diplomatic mission, of course?" he asked, in a hollow whisper. + +"On a diplomatic mission." + +"To the Vladika, eh?" + +Everyone looked significantly at his neighbor, some twisted their +long moustaches, others instinctively lifted their hands to the hafts +of their knives. They all seemed to say: "It is what we have been +suspecting from the very beginning. Montenegro will take back Cattaro +and Budua." Thereupon every face brightened. + +It was natural to surmise such a thing in those times, inasmuch as in +the course of a few years we had been shifting from hand to hand. The +French had taken us from the Venetians; then we became Russians; the +English drove the Cossacks away, and gave us over to the Austrians, +our present masters. + +"Of course, nobody goes to Cettinje without doing homage to the +Vladika. Still, our mission is not to the Prince." + +We all looked at Bellacic and at Markovic in blank astonishment. + +"You might as well tell them," said one of the friends to the other. +"Besides, it is a thing that all the town will know in a few days." + +"Well," quoth Markovic, "our mission is not a political one. We are +deputed by Radonic----" + +"By Radonic?" interrupted the shaver. "But he is not in Budua." + +"No, he is at Perasto with his ship. We saw him at Cattaro." + +"Well?" + +"And he is going to get married." + +"Married?" + +"But he is too old," said a youth, without thinking. + +"We have only the age we look," retorted an elderly man, snappishly. + +"Well, but Radonic looks old," answered the young man. + +"But to whom is he going to be married?" + +"To Milena." + +"What! Milena Zwillievic?" + +"Exactly; to the prettiest girl of Montenegro!" + +Many a young face fell, more than one brow grew cloudy, and a bright +eye got dim. + +"It is an impossible marriage," said someone. + +"A rich husband, a horned bull," quoth another. + +"But he is much older than she is." + +"We marry our sons when we like, and our daughters when we can," +added Figaro, sententiously. + +"Still, how could Zwillievic consent to take for his son-in-law a +man as old as himself?" + +"A hero of the _Kolo_." + +"And yet Zwillievic is a man with a gold head, a wise man." + +"Yes, but he has also gold hands," replied Markovic. + +"He did not follow the proverb--" added Bellacic, "'Consult your +purse, then buy.' His passion for arms ruined him; debts must be +paid." + +"We were once on board the same ship with Radonic," said one of the +friends; "so he asked me to be the _Stari-Svat_." + +"And I," added the other, "as Zwillievic is a kinsman of mine, I +must be _voivoda_." + +"Ah, poor Milena! the year will be a black one to her." + +"After all, she'll henceforth be able to sit in flour." + +"And we all have our Black Fridays." + +By this time Markovic had been shaved, the two friends wended their +way homewards, and the crowd dispersed. + +"And now," you evidently ask, "who is this Milos Bellacic and his +friend, Janko Markovic?" + +Two well-to-do citizens of Budua, the last of all Austrian towns, two +_gospodje_, but, unlike most of the Buduans and the other Dalmatians, +they were real Iugo-Slavs, Illyrians of the great Serbian stock. + +As children they had clung to one another on account of the +friendship that existed between their fathers; as they grew older +this feeling, of almost kinship, was strengthened by the many trials +they had to undergo in common, for Fate seemed to have spun their +lives out of the selfsame yarn. At fourteen they had left home, on a +schooner bound for distant coasts; later, they got shipwrecked, and +swam--or rather they were washed--ashore, clinging to the same plank. +Thus they suffered cold, hunger, "the whips and scorns of time" +together. + +From America, where they had been cast by the waves, they worked their +way to Trieste, hoping from thence to return to their native place, +ever dear to their hearts. This ill wind, so fatal, not only to the +ship, but to the remainder of the crew, proved to be the young men's +fortune. Trieste was, at the time, in the very beginning of its +mushroom growth, before that host of adventurers had flocked thither +from every part of the world with the hopes of making money. + +It is not to be wondered that, after the hard life these young men +had undergone, they understood the full strength of the Italian +proverb--"Praise the sea, but keep to the shore." Sober and +hard-working as they were, they made up their minds to try and +acquire by trade what they could hardly get by a rough seafaring +life--their daily bread and a little money for their old age. + +Strongly built, they started life as porters. Like beasts of burden, +they were harnessed to a cart the whole of the long summer days, or +else they helped to unload the ships that came in port. + +Having managed to scrape a little money together, they began to trade +on their own account. They imported from Dalmatia, wine, sardines, +carobs, and _castradina_, or smoked mutton; they exported cotton +goods. They got to be shareholders, and then owners, of a bark, a +_trabacolo_. The times were good; there was, as yet, little or no +competition; therefore money begot money, and, though they could +neither read nor write, still they soon found themselves the owners +of a sum of money which--to them--was unlimited wealth. Had they +remained in Trieste, they might have got to be millionaires, but +they loved their birthplace even more than they did riches. + +Once again in Budua, they added a good many acres of vineyards and of +olive-trees to their paternal farms, and, from that time, they lived +there in all the contentment this world can afford. They married, +but, strange to say, they were not blessed with many children; each +of them had only one son. Janko's son was, after his friend, named +Milenko; the other infant was christened Uros. + +These two children are the _pobratim_ of our story. + +"But what is the meaning of this strange word?" you ask. + +Have but a little patience, and it will be explained to you in due +time. + +Uros and Milenko had inherited with their blood that friendship +which had bound their fathers and forefathers before them. As +children, they belonged to either mother, and they often slept +together in the same trough-like cradle scooped out of the trunk +of a tree; they ate out of the same _zdila_--the huge wooden +porringer which served the family as table dish and plates; they +drank out of the same _bukara_, or wooden bottle, for, being rich +and having vineyards of their own, wine was never wanting at their +meals. + +At fourteen they, like their fathers, went off to sea, for lads must +know something of the world. Happily, however, they both came back to +Budua after a cruise of some months. Though they met with many +squalls, still they never came to any grief. + +As a rule they staid away cruising about the Adriatic and the Levant +from November to the month of August; but when the harvest-time drew +nigh, they returned home, where hands were wanted to reap and garner +such fruits as the rich soil had yielded. After the vintage was over +and the olives gathered, the earth was left bare; then they set off +with the swallows, though not always for warmer climes. It was the +time when sudden gales blow fiercely, when the crested waves begin to +roll and the sea is most stormy. + +A few months after that memorable Friday upon which Bellacic and +Markovic had got shaved, exciting thereby everybody's astonishment, +they themselves were surprised to see their sons return unexpectedly. +The fact was that, upon reaching Cattaro, the ship on which they had +embarked was sold and all the crew were paid off. As they did not +think it worth their while to look for another ship, they seized this +opportunity to go and spend the 24th of May at home, for St. John's +is "the maddest, merriest day of all the glad New Year." Moreover, +they were lucky, for the year before had been a plentiful one, whilst +the new crops promised, even now, to make the _pojata_ groan under +their weight; for whilst an empty and a scanty larder can afford but +a sorry welcome, a hospitable man becomes even lavish when his casks +are full of wine, his bins are heaped with corn, his jars overflow +with oil; when, added to this, there is a prospect of more. + +Uros and Milenko had but just arrived home when a little boy--the +youngest son of a wealthy neighbour, whose name's day was on the +morrow--appeared on the threshold of their door, and, taking off his +little cap demurely, said, in a solemn voice: + +"Yours is the house of God. My father greets you, and asks you to +come and drink a glass of wine with him. We'll chat to while away the +evening hours, and we'll not withhold from you the good things St. +John, our patron saint, has sent us." + +Having recited his invitation, the little herald bowed and went off +to bear his message elsewhere. + +The family, who knew that this invitation was forthcoming, set off at +once for their friend's house. Upon reaching the gate of their host's +garden, all the men fired off their pistols as a sign of joy, amongst +the shouts of "_Zivio_"; then, upon entering, they went up to the +_Starescina_, the master of the house, and wished him, in God's name, +many happy returns of the day. + +A goodly crowd of people had now gathered together, all bent upon +merry-making, and a fine evening they had of it; though, according to +the old men, this was but moping compared to the festivities they had +been used to in their youth. Then, hosts and guests being jolly +together, they quite forgot that time had wings, and eight days would +sometimes pass before anybody thought of leave-taking. + +On that mystic evening almost all the amusements had an allegorical or +weird character. In every game there was an attempt at divination. +Thus the first one that was played consisted in throwing a garland +amidst the branches of a tree. If it remained caught at the first +throw, the owner was to get married during the year; if not, the +number of times the wreath was tossed upwards corresponded with as +many years of patient waiting. It was considered a bad omen if the +garland came to pieces. + +When Uros threw his chaplet of flowers up it came at once down again, +bringing an old wreath that the wind and the winter storms had +respected. + +"Why," said the _Starescina_, turning to Milena, who had come to +witness the game, "surely it is your husband's wreath!" + +"Yes, I remember," added Markovic; "last year Radonic was with us, +and his garland remained in the tree the first time he flung it up." + +"Oh, Uros, fie! you'll bring Radonic ill-luck yet." + +Uros turned round, and his eyes met those of Milena for the first +time. Both blushed. There were a few moments of awkward silence, and +then the young man, touching his cap, said: + +"I am sorry, _gospa_, but, of course, I did not do it on purpose." + +"No, surely not, and, besides, it had to come down sooner or later." + +He tossed his wreath up again, but whether he felt nervous because he +had been laughed at, or because the beautiful eyes of the young +Montenegrine woman paralysed his arm, he felt himself so clumsy and +awkward that he tossed up his garland several times, but he only +succeeded to batter it as it came down again. + +"Just let me try once," said Milenko to his friend, as he cast his +wreath up in the branches of the tree, where it nestled. + +Uros made another attempt; down came his garland, bringing his +friend's together with it, amid the general laughter. + +"Uros is like the dog in the manger," said one of the bystanders; "he +will not marry, nor does he wish other people to do so." + +"Bad luck and a bad omen!" whispered an old crony to Milenko. "Beware +of your friend; nor, if I were Radonic, should I trust my pretty wife +with him. Bad luck and a bad omen!" + +After garland throwing, huge bonfires were kindled, and the +surrounding mountains gleamed with many lights. It was, indeed, a +fine sight to see the high, heaven-kissing flames reflected by the +dark waters of the blue Adriatic. + +But of all the bonfires in the neighbourhood, the _Starescina_'s was +the biggest, for he was one of the richest men of the town. It was +thus no easy matter to jump scathless over it. Still, young and old +did manage to do so, either when the flames--chasing one another +--leapt up to the sky, or else when the fire began to burn low. The +stillness of the night was interrupted by prolonged shouts of +"_Zivio!_" repeated again and again by the echoes of the neighbouring +mountains; but amidst the shouting of "Long life!" you could hear the +hooting of some owl scared by this unusual glimmering light, and +every now and then the shrill cry of some witch or some other ghostly +wanderer of the night, and the suppressed groaning and gnashing of +teeth of evil spirits, disappointed to think that so many sturdy lads +and winsome lassies should escape their clutches for a whole year; +for they have no power against all those who jump over these hallowed +bonfires on the eve of the mystic saint's day. + +"There, did you hear?" said one of the young girls, shuddering. +Thereupon we all crossed ourselves devoutly. + +"It is better not to think of them, they cannot come near us," said +the _Starescina_. + +"It is not long ago that we saw three witches burnt at Zavojane. When +was it, Bellacic?" + +"It was in 1823, in the month of August, on the 3rd, if I remember +rightly." + +"Oh! then they were real witches?" + +"Of course." + +"Were they very ugly? Had they beards?" + +"Oh, no! they were very much like all the other elderly women of the +place." + +"And what had they done?" + +"No end of mischief. One of them had eaten a child alive. Another had +taken a young man's heart out of his body whilst he was asleep. He, on +awaking--not knowing what had happened to him--felt a great void in +his chest." + +"Poor fellow!" said Milena, compassionately, whilst her glances fell +on Uros, and he actually felt like the young man who had lost his +heart. + +"But what was she going to do with it?" + +"Why, roast and eat it." + +"A friar who had witnessed the whole thing, but who had been deprived +of all power of rendering assistance, accused her of witchcraft, and +she was made to give back the heart before she had had time to devour it." + +"How wonderful!" + +"The third had rendered all the balls of the guns aimless, and all +weapons blunt and useless. But these are only some of the many evils +they had done." + +"And you saw them burnt?" + +"Yes, in the presence of the Catholic parish priest, two friars and +all the local authorities." + +The bonfires were now over, and nothing but the glowing embers +remained. All then went in the house to partake of the many good +things that St. John, or his namesake, had prepared for them. + +There was for supper: first, whole lambs, roasted on the spit, then +fish, _castradina_, and many other dishes, all more or less stuffed +with garlic--a condiment which never fails anywhere. It is said that +the gods, having been asked if this bulb was to rank amongst eatables, +decreed that no dish should ever remain without it; and the Slavs +have faithfully followed out their decree. + +When all had eaten till they were crop full, and had drunk their +fill, they all raught after their meat as seemly as Madame Eglentine; +then, loosening their belts, they remained seated on their stools, or +squatted on the ground, chatting, punning, telling anecdotes, or +listening to the grave discourses of the old men about St. John. + +"Fancy," said a deacon of a neighbouring church, "when we have fasted +for a day or two, we think we have done much. St. John, instead, +fasted for forty days and forty nights, without even taking a sip of +water." + +"But why did he fast so long?" + +"Because he had committed a great sin; and on account of this sin he +always walked with his head bent down. When the people said to him, +'John, why do you not lift up your head?' he always replied demurely, +'Because I am not worthy to lift up my eyes heavenwards; and I shall +only do so when an infant, that cannot yet speak, will bid me do it.' +Now, it happened that one day John met a young woman carrying a +little child, and when the infant saw John, he said: 'John, lift up +thine eyes heavenward; my Father has forgiven thee.' The saint, in +great joy, knowing that the babe was Jesus Christ, went at once home; +and with a red-hot iron he burnt the initials of the Saviour on his +side, so that he might never forget his name." + +"And now let's have a story," said the host. + +As Milos Bellacic was noted for his skill in relating a good story, he +was asked by everybody to tell them one of his very best tales. + +Being a man who had travelled, he knew how to treat women with more +deference than the remainder of the Buduans. So turning towards his +host's wife: + +"Which will you have?" said he. + +"Any one you like." + +"'Hussein and Ayesha'?" + +"No," said some. "Yes," added the others, without waiting for the +lady of the house to have her choice. + +"Then 'The Death of Fair Jurecevic's Lovers'?" + +"No, that was an old story." + +"Perhaps, 'The Loves of Adelin the Turk and Mary the Christian'?" + +"They all knew it." + +"Or, 'Marko Kraglievic and the Vila'?" + +"No, leave Marko to the _guzlari_." + +"Well, then, it must be 'The Story of Jella and the Macic.'" + +"Oh!" said the _gospodina_, "I once heard it in my childhood, and now +I only remember its name. Still, I have always had a longing to hear +it again; therefore, do tell it." + +Milos Bellacic swallowed another glass of _slivovitz_, leaving, +however, a few drops at the bottom of his glass, which he spilt on +the floor as a compliment to the _Starescina_, showing thereby that +in his house there was not only enough and to spare, but even to be +wasted. He then took a long pull at the amber mouthpiece of his long +Marasca cherry pipe, let the smoke rise quietly and curl about his +nose, and, after clearing his throat, began as follows: + + +THE STORY OF JELLA AND THE MACIC. + +Once upon a time there lived in a village of Crivoscie an old man +and his wife; they had one fair daughter and no more. This girl was +beyond all doubt the prettiest maiden of the place. She was as +beautiful as the rising sun, or the new moon, or as a _Vila_; so +nothing more need be said about her good looks. All the young men of +the village and of the neighbouring country were madly in love with +her, though she never gave them the slightest encouragement. + +Being now of a marriageable age, she was, of course, asked to every +festivity. Still, being very demure, she would not go anywhere, as +neither her father nor her mother, who were a sullen couple of +stingy, covetous old fogeys, would accompany her. + +At last her parents, fearing lest she might remain an old maid, and +be a thorn rather than a comfort to them, insisted upon her being a +little more sociable, and go out of an evening like the other girls. +"Moreover, if some rich young man comes courting you, be civil to +him," said the mother. "For there are still fools who will marry a +girl for her pretty face," quoth the father. It was, therefore, +decided that the very next time some neighbours gathered together to +make merry, Jella should take part in the festivity. "For how was she +ever to find the husband of her choice if she always remained shut up +at home?" said the mother. + +Soon afterwards, a feast in honour of some saint or other happened to +be given at the house of one of their wealthy neighbours, so Jella +decked herself out in her finest dress and went. She was really +beautiful that evening, for she wore a gown of white wool, all +embroidered in front with a wreath of gay flowers, then an over-dress +of the same material, the sleeves of which were likewise richly +stitched in silks of many colours. Her belt was of some costly +Byzantine stuff, all purfled with gold threads. On her head she wore +a red cap, the headgear of the young Crivosciane. + +As she entered the room, all the young men flocked around her to +invite her to dance the _Kolo_ with them, and to whisper all kinds of +pretty things to her. But she, blushing, refused them all, declaring +that she would not dance, elbowed her way to a corner of the room, +where she sat down quite alone. All the young men soon came buzzing +around her, like moths round a candle, each one hoping to be +fortunate enough to become her partner. Anyhow, when the music struck +up, and the _Kolo_ began, their toes were now itching, and one by one +they slunk away, and she, to her great joy, and the still greater +joy of the other girls, was left quite by herself. + +While she was looking at the evolutions of the _Kolo_, she saw a +young stranger enter the room. Although he wore the dress of the +Kotor, he evidently was from some distant part of the country. His +clothes--made out of the finest stuffs, richly braided and +embroidered in gold--were trimmed with filigree buttons and bugles. +The _pas_, or sash, he wore round his waist was of crimson silk, +woven with gold threads; the wide morocco girdle--the _pripasnjaca_ +--was purfled with lovely arabesques; his princely weapons, studded +with precious stones and damaskened, were numerous and costly. His +pipe, stuck not in his girdle like his arms, but 'twixt his blue +satin waistcoat--_jacerma_--and his shirt, had the hugest amber +mouthpiece that man had ever seen; aye, the Czar himself could not +possibly have a finer pipe. What young man, seeing that pipe with its +silver mounting, adorned with coral and turquoises, could help +breaking the Tenth Commandment? He was, moreover, as handsome as a +_Macic_, aye, as winsome as Puck. + +He came in the room, doffed his cap to greet the company like a +well-bred young man, then set it pertly on his head again. After +that, he went about chatting with the lads, flirting with the +lassies, as if he had long been acquainted with them, like a youth +accustomed to good company. He did not notice, however, poor Jella in +her corner. He took no part in the dances, probably because, every +Jack having found his Jill, there was nobody with whom he could +dance. + +The girls all looked slily at him, and many a one wished in her heart +that she had not been so hasty in choosing her partner, nay, that she +had remained a wallflower for that night. + +At last the young stranger wended his steps towards that corner where +Jella was sitting alone, moping. He no sooner caught sight of her +than he went gracefully up, and, looking at her with a merry twinkle +in his eyes, and a most mischievous smile upon his lips: + +"And you, my pretty one? Don't you dance this evening?" he asked. + +"I never dance, either this evening or any other." + +"And why not?" + +"Because there is not a single young man I care to dance with." + +"Oh, Jella!" whispered the girls, "dance with him if he asks you; we +should so much like to see how he dances." + +"Then it would be useless asking you to dance the _Kolo_ with me, I +suppose?" + +"Oh, Jella! dance with him," whispered the young men; "it would be an +unheard-of rudeness to refuse dancing with a stranger who has no +partner." + +"Even if I did not care about dancing, I should do so for the sake of +our village." + +"Then you only dance with me that it might not be said: 'He was +welcomed with the sour lees of wine'?" + +"I dance with you because I choose to do so." + +"Thank you, pretty one." + +The two thereupon began to go through the maze of the _Kolo_, and, as +he twisted her round, they both moved so gracefully, keeping time to +the music, that they looked like feathery boughs swayed by the summer +breeze. + +About ten o'clock the dances came to an end, and every youth, having +gone to thank his host for the pleasant evening he had passed, went +off with his partner, laughing and chatting all the way. + +"And you, my lovely one, where do you live?" asked the stranger of +Jella. + +"In one of the very last houses of the village, quite at the end of +the lane." + +"Will you allow me to see you home?" + +"If I am not taking you out of your way." + +"Even if it were, it would be a pleasure for me." + +Jella blushed, not knowing what to answer to so polite a youth. + +They, therefore, went off together, and in no time they reached her +house. Jella then bid the stranger good-bye, and, standing on the +door-step, she saw him disappear in the darkness of the night. + +Whither had he gone? Which turning had he taken? She did not know. + +A feeling of deep sadness came over her; for the first time in her +life she felt a sense of bereavement and loneliness. + +Would this handsome young man come back again? She almost felt like +running after the stranger to ask him if they would meet on the +morrow, or, at least, after some days. Being a modest girl, she, of +course, could not do so; moreover, the youth had already +disappeared. + +"Did you bring me any cakes?" was the mother's first question, +peevish at being awakened in her first sleep. + +"Oh, no! _mati_; I never ate a crumb of a cake myself." + +"And you enjoyed yourself?" + +"Oh! very much so; far more than I ever thought." + +Thereupon she began to relate all that had happened, and would have +made a long description of the young man who had danced with her, but +her father woke in the midst of a tough snore and bade her hold her +tongue. + +On the morrow there was again a party in the village, for it was +carnival, the time of the year when good folks make merry. When night +came on, Jella went to the dance without needing to be much pressed +by her parents. She was anxious to know if the young stranger would +be there, and, also, if he would dance with her or with some other +girl. + +"Remember," said her mother to her as she was going off, "do not +dance with him 'like a fly without a head'; but measure him from top +to toe, and think how lucky it would be if he, being well off, would +marry a dowerless girl like you. The whole village speaks of him, of +his weapons and his pipe; still, he might be 'like a drop of water +suspended on a leaf,' without house or home. Therefore, remember to +question him as to his land, his castle, and so forth; try and find +out if he is an only son and from where he comes, for 'Marry with +your ears and not with your eyes,' as the saying is." + +"Anyhow, take this tobacco-pouch," added the old man, "and offer it to +him before he leaves you." + +"Why?" asked Jella, guilelessly. + +"Because it is made out of a musk-rat, and so it will be easy to +follow him whithersoever he goes, even in the darkness of the night." + +Jella, being a simple kind of a girl, did not like the idea of +entrapping a young man; moreover, if she admired the stranger, it was +for his good looks and his wit rather than for his rich clothes; but +being frightened both of her father and her mother, who had never had +a kind word for her, she promised to do as she was bidden. She then +went to the party, and there everything happened as upon the +preceding evening. + +The girls all waited for the handsome young man to make his +appearance, and put off accepting partners till the last moment, each +one hoping that she might be the chosen one. The hour upon which he +had come the evening before was now past, and still they all waited +in vain. The music had begun, and the young men, impatient to be up +and doing, were heavily beating time with their feet. At last the +_Kolo_ began. They had just taken their places, and all except Jella +had forgotten the stranger, when he all at once stepped into the +room, bringing with him a number of bottles of maraschino, and cakes +overflowing with honey and stuffed with pistachios. + +He, as upon the evening before, went round the room, talking with the +young men and teazing the prettiest girls. Then he stepped up to +Jella, and asked her to dance with him. + +The _Kolo_ at last came to an end, the boys went off with the girls, +the old folks hobbled after them, and the unknown youth, putting his +arm round his partner's waist, as if he had been engaged to her, +accompanied her home. + +They soon reached her house; Jella then gave the stranger the +tobacco-pouch, and, having bid him good-night, she stood forlorn on +the door-step, to see him go off. No sooner had he turned his back, +than the father, who was holding the door ajar and listening to every +word they said, slipped out, like a weasel, and followed him by the +smell of his musk pouch. + +The night was as still as it was dark, the moon had not yet risen, a +hushed silence seemed to have fallen over nature, and not the +slightest animal was heard stirring abroad. + +The young fellow, after following the road for about a hundred paces, +left the highway and took a short cut across the fields. The old man +was astounded to see that, though a stranger, he was quite familiar +with the country, for he knew not only what lane to take, but also +what path to follow in the darkness of the night, almost better than +he did himself. He climbed over walls, slipped through the gaps in +the hedges, leapt over ditches, just as if it had been broad +daylight. + +Jella's father had a great ado to follow him; still, he managed to +hobble along, like an ungainly, bow-legged setter, as fast as the +other one capered. They crossed a wood, where the boles of the trees +had weird and fantastic shapes, where thorny twigs clutched him by +his clothes; then they came out on a plain covered with sharp flints, +where huge scorpions lurked under every stone. Afterwards they +reached a blasted heath, where nothing grew but gnarled, knotty, and +twisted roots of trees, which, by the dusky light of the stars, +looked like huge snakes and fantastical reptiles; there, in the +clumps of rank grass, the horned vipers curled themselves. After this +they crossed a morass, amidst the croaking of the toads and the +hooting of owls, where unhallowed will-o'-the-wisps flitted around +him. + +The old man was now sorely frightened; the country they were crossing +was quite unknown to him, and besides, it looked like a spot cursed +by God, and leading to a worse place still. He began to lag. What was +he to do?--go back?--he would only flounder in the mire. He crossed +himself, shut his eyes tightly, and followed the smell of the musk. +He thus walked on for some time, shivering with fear as he felt a +flapping of wings near him, and ever and anon a draught of cold air +made him lose the scent he was following. + +At last he stopped, hearing a loud creaking sound, a grating +stridulous noise, like that of the rusty hinges of some heavy iron +gate which was being closed just behind him. + +A gate in the midst of a morass! thought he; where the devil could +he have come to? As he uttered the ominous word of _Kudic_ he heard +the earth groan under his feet. + +It is a terrible thing to hear the earth groan; it does so just +before an earthquake! + +He did not dare to open his eyes; he listened, awed, and then the +faint sound of a distant bell fell upon his ears. + +It was midnight, and that bell seemed to be slowly tolling--aye, +tolling for the dead, the dead that groan in the bosom of the earth. + +A shiver came over him, big drops of cold sweat gathered on his +forehead. He sniffed the cold night air; it smelt earthy and damp, +the scent of musk had quite passed away. + +At last he half-opened his eyes, to see if he could perceive anything +of the young stranger. The moon, rising behind a hillock, looked like +a weird eye peeping on a ghastly scene. What did he see--what were +those uncouth shapes looming in the distance, amidst the surrounding +mist? + +Why was the earth newly dug at his feet, shedding a smell of clay and +mildew? + +He felt his head spinning, and everything about him seemed to whirl. + +What was that dark object dangling down, as from a huge gallows? + +Whither was he to go?--back across the wide morass, where the earth, +soft and miry, sank under his feet, where the unhallowed lights lead +the wanderers into bottomless quagmires? + +He opened his eyes widely, and began to stare around. He saw strange +shapes flit through the fog, figures darker than the fog itself rise, +mist-like, from the earth. Were they night-birds or human beings? He +could not tell. + +All at once he bethought himself that they were witches and wizards, +_carovnitsi_ and _viestitche_, the _morine_ or nightmares, and all +the creatures of hell gathering together for their nightly frolic. + +Fear prompted him to run off as fast as he possibly could, but huge +pits were yawning all around him; moreover, curiosity held him back, +for he would have liked to see where the damned store away their +gold; so, between these two feelings, he stood there rooted to the +earth. + +At last, when fear prevailed over covetousness, he was about to flee; +he felt the ground shiver under his feet, a grave slowly opened on +the spot where he stood, for--as you surely must have understood--he +was in the very midst of a burying-ground. At midnight in a +burying-ground, when the tombs gape and give out their dead! His hair +stood on end, his blood was curdling within his veins, his very heart +stopped beating. + +Can you fancy his terror in seeing a _voukoudlak_, a horrid vampire +all bloated with the blood it nightly sucks. Slowly he saw them rise +one after the other, each one looking like a drowsy man awaking from +deep slumbers. Soon they began to shake off their sluggishness, and +leap and jump and frolic around, and as the mist cleared he could see +all the other uncouth figures whirl about in a mazy dance, like +midges on a rainy day. + +It was too late to run away now, for as soon as these blood-suckers +saw him, they surrounded him, capering and yelling, twisting their +boneless and leech-like bodies, grinning at him with delight, at the +thought of the good cheer awaiting them, telling him that it was by +no means a painful kind of death, and that afterwards he himself +would become a vampire and have a jolly time of it. + +At the sight of these dead-and-alive kind of ghosts, the poor man +wished he had either a pentacle, a bit of consecrated candle, or +even a medal of the Virgin; but he had nothing, he was at the mercy +of the fiends; therefore, overpowered by fear, he fell down in a +fainting-fit. + +That night, and the whole of the following day, Jella and her mother +waited for the old man to come back; but they waited in vain. When +the evening came on, her mother persuaded her to go to the +dancing-party and see if the young stranger would come again. + +"Perhaps," said she, "he might tell you something about your father; +if not, ask no questions. Anyhow, take this ball of thread, which I +have spun myself, and on bidding him good-bye, manage to cast this +loop on one of his buttons, drop the ball on the ground, and leave +everything to me. Very likely your father has lost the scent of the +musk, and is still wandering about the country. This thread, which is +as strong as wire, is a much surer guide to go by." + +Jella did as she was bid. She went to the house where the _Kolo_ was +being danced; she spent the whole evening with the young stranger, +who never said a word about her father, and when the moment of +parting on the threshold of the door arrived, she deftly fastened the +end of the thread to one of his buttons, and then stood watching him +go off. + +The ball having slowly unwound itself, the old woman darted out and +caught hold of the other end of the string. Then she followed the +youth in the darkness, through thorns and thickets, through brambles +and briars, as well as her tottering legs could carry her, much in +the same way her husband had done the evening before. + +That night and the day afterwards, Jella waited for her father and +mother, but neither of them returned. When evening came on, afraid of +remaining alone, she again went to dance the _Kolo_. + +The evening passed very quickly, and the rustic ball came to an end. +The youth accompanied her home as he had done the evening before, and +on their way he whispered words of love in her ear, that made her +heart beat faster, and her head grow quite giddy, words that made her +forget her father and mother, and the dreaded night she was to pass +quite alone. Still, as they got in sight of the house, Jella, who was +very frightened, grew all at once quite thoughtful and gloomy. Seeing +her so sorrowful, the young stranger put again his arm round her +waist, and looking deep into her dark blue eyes, he asked her why she +was so sad. + +She thereupon told him the cause of all her troubles. + +"Never mind, my darling," said the youth, "come along with me." + +"But," faltered Jella, hesitatingly, "do you go far?" + +"No, not so very far either." + +"Still, where do you go?" + +"Come and see, dear." + +Jella did not exactly know what to do. She fain would go with him, +and yet she was afraid of what people might say about her, and again +she shuddered at the thought of having to remain at home quite alone. + +"You are not afraid to come with me," he asked; "are you?" + +"Afraid? No, why should I be? you surely would take care of me?" + +"Of course; why do you not come, then?" + +"Because the old women might say that it is improper." + +"Oh," quoth he, laughing, "only old women who have daughters of their +own to marry, say such things!" + +Thereupon he offered her his arm, and off they went. + +Soon leaving the village behind them, they were in the open fields, +beyond the vineyards and the orchards, in the untilled land where the +agaves shoot their gaunt stalks up towards the sky, where the air is +redolent with the scent of thyme, sage and the flowering Agnus castus +bushes; then again they went through leafy lanes of myrtle and +pomegranate-trees and meadows where orchis bloomed and sparkling +brooks were babbling in their pebbly beds. + +Though they had been walking for hours, Jella did not feel in the +least tired; it seemed as if she had been borne on the wings of the +wind. Moreover, all sense of gloom and sadness was over, and she was +as blithe and as merry as she had ever been. + +At last--towards dawn--they reached a dense wood, where stately oaks +and fine beech-trees formed fretted domes high up in the air. There +nightingales warbled erotic songs, and the merle's throat burst with +love; there the crickets chirped with such glee that you could hardly +help feeling how pleasant life was. The moon on its wane cast a +mellow, silvery light through the shivering leaves, whilst in the +east the sky was of the pale saffron tint of early dawn. + +"Stop!" said the young girl, laying her hand on the stranger's arm. +"Do you not see there some beautiful ladies dancing under the trees, +swinging on the long pendant branches and combing the pearly drops of +dew from their black locks?" + +"I see them quite well." + +"They must be _Vile_?" + +"I am sure they are." + +"Fairies should not be seen by mortal eyes against their wish. Then +do not let us seek their wrath." + +"Do not be afraid, sweet child; we are no ordinary mortals, you and +I." + +"You, perhaps, are not; but as for me, I am only a poor peasant +girl." + +"No, my love, you are much better than you think. Look there! the +fairies have seen you, and they are beckoning you to go to them." + +"But, then, tell me first what I am." + +"You are a foundling; the old man and woman with whom you lived were +not your parents. They stole you when you were an infant for your +beauty and the rich clothes you wore." + +"And you, who are you, _gospod_?" + +"I?" said the young man, laughing. "I am _Macic_, the merry, the +mischievous sprite. I have known you since a long time. I loved you +from the first moment I saw you, and I always hoped that, 'as like +matches with like,' you yourself might perhaps some day get to like +me and marry me. Tell me, was I right?" said he, looking at her +mischievously. + +Jella told him he was a saucy fellow to speak so lightly about such a +grave subject, but then--woman-like--she added that he was not wrong. + +They were forthwith welcomed by the _Vile_ with much glee, and, soon +afterwards, their wedding was celebrated with great pomp and +merriment. + + +"But what became of the old man and his wife?" asked an interested +listener. + +"They met with the punishment their curiosity deserved. They were +found a long time afterwards locked up in an old disused +burying-ground. They were both of them quite dead, for when they +fainted at the terrible sights they saw, the vampires availed +themselves of their helplessness to suck up the little blood there +was in them." + +"May St. John preserve us all from such a fate," said Milos Bellacic, +crossing himself devoutly. + +The story having come to an end, toasts were drunk, songs were sung +to the accompaniment of the _guzla_, the young people flirted, their +elders talked gravely about politics and the crops, whilst the women +huddled together in a corner and chatted about household matters. + +After a while, an old ladle having been brought out, lead was melted +and then thrown into a bucket of water, and the fanciful arborescent +silvery mass it formed was used as a means of divination. + +Most of the girls were clever in reading those molten hieroglyphics, +but none was so versed in occult lore as an old woman, an aunt of the +_Starescina_'s, who was also skilled in the art of curing with +simples. + +Uros and Milenko, therefore, begged the good old woman to foretell +them their future; and she, looking at the glittering maze, said to +them: + +"See here, these two are the paths of your life; see how smoothly +they run, how they meet with the same incidents. These little needles +that rise almost at marked distances are the milestones of the road; +each one is a year. Count them, and you will see that for a length of +time nothing ruffles the course of your life. But here a catastrophe, +then both paths branch out in different directions; your lives from +then have separate ends." The two young men heaved a deep sigh. + +"Anyhow, you have several years of happiness in store for you. Make +good use of your time while it is yours, for time is fleeting." + +Then, as she was rather given to speak in proverbs, she said to Uros: + +"Let your friend be to you even as a brother. Remember that one day, +not very far off either, you will owe your life to him." + +Drinking and carousing, singing and chatting, the evening came to an +end. In the early hours the guests took leave of their host, wishing +him a long and happy life, firing their pistols, not only as a +compliment to him, but also as a means of scaring away the evil +spirits. Upon reaching their houses, they bathed and washed with dew, +they rubbed themselves with virgin oil, so as to be strong and +healthy, besides being proof against witchcraft, for a whole year. + + + + +CHAPTER II + +THE BOND OF FRIENDSHIP + + +"Milenko," said Uros, "have you the least idea how people that are in +love feel?" + +Milenko arched his eyebrows and smiled. + +"No, not exactly, for I've never been spoony myself." Then, after +pondering for a moment, he added: "I should think it's like being +slightly sea-sick; don't you?" + +Uros looked amused. He thought over the simile for a while, then +said: + +"Well, perhaps you are not quite wrong." + +"But why do you ask? You are surely not in love, are you?" + +Uros sighed. "Well, that's what I don't exactly know; only I feel +just a trifle squeamish. I'm upset; my head is muddled." + +"And you are afraid it's love?" + +Uros made a sign of assent. + +"It's not nice, is it?" + +"No." + +"And you'd like to get out of it?" asked Milenko. + +"Yes." + +"Well, then, take a deep plunge. Make love to her heart and soul, as +if you were going to marry her to-morrow. Then, I daresay, you'll +soon get over it. You see, the worst thing with sea-sickness is to +mope, to nurse yourself, and fancy every now and then that you are +going to throw up. It's better to be sick like a dog for a day or +two, as we were, and then it's all over. I think it must be the same +thing with love." + +"I daresay you are right, but----" + +"But what?" + +"I can't follow your advice." + +"Why not?" + +"Because--because----" and thereupon he began to scratch his head. "I +can't make love to her." + +"Can't make love to a girl?" + +"No; for, you see, she's not a girl." + +Milenko opened his eyes and stared. + +"Who is she?" he asked. + +Uros looked gloomy. He hesitated for an instant; then he whispered: + +"Milena!" + +Milenko started back. + +"Not Milena Radonic?" + +Uros nodded gravely. + +"You are right," said Milenko seriously; "you can't make love to a +married woman. It's a crime, first of all; then you might get her +into trouble, and find yourself some day or other in a mess." + +"You are right." + +The two friends were silent for a moment; then Milenko, thinking to +have caught the dilemma by its horns, said: + +"Wouldn't it be the same thing if you made love to some other pretty +damsel?" + +Uros shook his head doubtfully. + +"Darinka, our neighbour Ivo's daughter, is a very nice girl." + +"Very." + +"Well, don't you think you might fall in love with her?" asked +Milenko, coaxingly. + +"No, I don't think I could." + +"Then there is Liepa, for instance; she is as lovely as her name; +moreover, I think she looks a little like Milena." + +"No; no woman has such beautiful eyes. Why, the first time I saw +Milena, I felt her glances scorching me; they sank into my flesh," +and he heaved a deep sigh. + +There was another pause; both the friends were musing. + +"Well, then, I'll tell you what," said Milenko, after a while; "we'll +just go off to sea again. It's a pity, but it can't be helped." + +"And the harvest?" + +"They'll have to manage without us; that's all." + +After having discussed the subject over and over again, it was agreed +that they were to sail as soon as they could find a decent vessel +that could take them both. In the meanwhile, Uros promised to avoid +Milena as much as possible, which was, indeed, no easy matter. + +The day of Milena Zwillievic's marriage had, indeed, been a Black +Friday to her. First, she knew that she was being sold to pay her +father's debts; secondly, Radonic was old enough to be her father. +Added to all this, he was a heavy, rough, uncouth kind of a fellow, +the terror of all seamen, and, as he treated his crew as if they had +been slaves, no man ever sailed with him if he could possibly get +another berth. + +Two or three days after the wedding, Radonic brought his girlish +bride to live with his mother, the veriest old shrewish skinflint +that could be imagined. She disliked her daughter-in-law before she +knew her; she hated her the first moment she saw her. Milena was +handsome and penniless, two heinous sins in her eyes, for she herself +had been ugly and rich. She could not forgive her son for having +made such a silly marriage at his age, and not a day passed without +her telling him that he was an old fool. + +During the first months poor Milena was to be pitied, and, what was +worse, everybody pitied her. She never ate a morsel of bread without +hearing her mother-in-law's taunts. If she cried, she was bullied by +the one, cuffed by the other. + +A month after the wedding, Radonic, however, went off with his ship, +and shortly afterwards his vixen of a mother died, and Milena was +then left sole mistress of the house. Her life, though lonesome, was +no more a burden to her, as it had hitherto been, only, having +nothing to do the whole day, time lay heavy on her hands. + +Handsome and young as she was, with a slight inborn tendency to +flirtation; living, moreover, quite alone; many a young man had tried +to make love to her; but, their intentions being too manifest, all, +hitherto, had been repulsed. On seeing Uros, however, she felt for +him what she had, as yet, never felt for any man, for her husband +less than anybody else. + +She tried not to think of Uros, and the more she tried the more his +image was before her eyes; so the whole of the live-long day she did +nothing else but think of him. She decided to avoid him, and still +--perhaps it was the devil that tempted her, but, somehow or other, +she herself could not explain how it happened--she was always either +at the door or at the window at the time he passed, and then what +could she do but nod in a friendly way to him? + +If she went to pay his mother a visit, she would hurry away before he +came home, and then she was always unlucky enough to meet him on her +way. Could she do less than stop and ask him how he was; besides, +after all, he was but a boy, and she was a married woman. + +Soon she began to surmise that Uros was in love with her; then she +thought herself foolish to believe such a thing, and she rated +herself for being vain. And then, again, she thought: "If he cares +for me more than he ought, it is but a foolish infatuation, of which +he will soon get rid when he goes again to sea." Thereupon she heaved +a deep sigh, and a heaviness came over her heart, at which she almost +confessed to herself that she did love that boy. + +Milena, after the conversation Uros had had with his friend, seeing +herself shunned, felt nettled and sorry. At the same time she was +glad to see that he did not care for her, and then her heart yearned +all the more for him. + +But if he shunned her, was it a sign that he did not care for her? +she asked herself. + +Puzzled, as she was, she wanted to find out the truth, merely out of +curiosity, and nothing more. + +Thus it came to pass that, standing one day on her doorstep, she +beckoned to the young man, as soon as she saw him, to come up to +her. It was a bold thing to do, nor did she do so without a certain +trepidation. + +"Uros," said she to him, "come here; I have something to ask you." + +"What is it?" said the young man, looking down rather shyly. + +"You that have travelled far and wide, can you tell me who speaks all +the languages of this world?" + +"Who speaks all the languages of this world?" echoed Uros, lifting up +his eyes, astonished, and then lowering them, feeling Milena's +glances parch up his blood. + +"Who can it be?" said he, puzzled. + +He tried to think, but his poor head was muddled, and his heart was +beating just as if it would burst. He had never been good at +guessing, but now it was worse than ever. + +"I've heard of people speaking three, four, and five languages, but +I've never heard of anyone speaking more than five." + +"What! You've been in foreign countries," quoth she, smiling archly, +and displaying her pearly teeth, "and still you cannot answer my +question?" + +"I cannot, indeed. There was a man who said he spoke twenty-five +languages, but, of course, he was a humbug. First, there are not +twenty-five languages in the world, and then he couldn't even speak +Slav." + +"Well, well; think over it till to-morrow." + +"And then?" + +"Perhaps you'll be able to guess." + +"But if I don't?" + +"Well, I shall not eat you up as the dragon, that Marko Kraglievic +killed, used to do, if people couldn't answer the questions he put +them." + +"And you'll tell me?" Thereupon he lifted up his eyes yearningly +towards her. + +"Perhaps," she replied, blushing, "but then, you must promise not to +ask Milenko." + +"I promise." + +She stretched forth her hand. He pressed it lingeringly. + +"Nor anybody else?" + +"No." + +"Then I'll tell you to-morrow." + +He bade her good-bye, and went off with a heavy heart; she saw him +disappear with a sigh. + +That whole day Uros thought a little of the riddle, and a great deal +of Milena's sparkling eyes; moreover, he felt the pressure of her +soft hand upon his palm. But the more he pondered over her question, +the more confused his brain grew, so he gave up thinking of the +riddle, and continued thinking of the young woman. On the morrow his +excitement increased, as the time of hearing the answer drew near. + +Milena, as usual, was on the watch for him, leaning on the door-post, +looking more beautiful than ever. As soon as he saw her, he hurried +up to her without being called. + +"Well," said she, with a nervous smile, "have you guessed?" + +"No." + +"Oh, you silly fellow! Who speaks all the languages of the world?" + +"It's useless to ask me; I don't know." + +"What will you give me if I tell you?" said she, in a low, +fluttering voice, and with a visible effort. + +He would willingly have made her a present, but he did not know what +she would like, and, as he looked up into her eyes to guess, he felt +his blood rising all up to his head. + +"Do you want me to bring you something from abroad--a looking-glass +from Venice, or a coral necklace from Naples?" + +No, she did not want anything from abroad. + +"Then a silk scarf?" + +"No, I was only joking. I'll tell you for nothing. Why, who but the +echo speaks all the languages of this world?" + +"Dear me, how stupid not to have thought of it. Tell me, do you think +me very stupid?" + +Milena smiled. She did think him rather dull, but not in the way he +meant. + +"You see how good I am. I tell you for nothing. Now, if you had put +me a riddle, and I could not have answered, you surely would have +asked"--here there was a catch in her voice--"a kiss from me." + +Uros blushed as red as a damask-rose; he tried to speak, but did not +know what to say. + +"Oh! don't say no; you men are all alike." + +The young man looked up at her with an entreating look, then down +again; still he did not speak. Milena remained silent, as if waiting +for an answer; she fidgeted and twisted the fringe of her apron round +her fingers, then she heaved a deep sigh. After a few minutes' pause: + +"Do you know any riddles?" she asked. + +"Oh, yes! I know several." + +"Well, then, tell me one." + +Uros thought for a while; he would have liked to ask her a very +difficult one, but the thought of the kiss he might have for it, gave +him a strong nervous pain at the back of his head. + +"Well," said he, after a few moments' cogitation--"Who turns out of +his house every day, and never leaves his house?" + +She looked at him for a while with parted lips and eyes all beaming +with smiles; nay, there was mischief lurking in her very dimples as +she said: + +"Why, the snail, you silly boy; everybody knows that hackneyed +riddle." Then with the prettiest little _moue_: "It was not worth +while leaving your country to come back with such a slight stock of +knowledge. I hope you were not expecting a kiss for the answer?" + +Uros was rather nettled by her teazing; he would fain have given her +a smart answer, but he could find none on the spur of the moment. +Besides, the sight of those two lips, as fresh and as juicy as the +pulp of a blood-red cherry, made him lose the little wit he otherwise +might have had; so he replied: + +"And if I had?" + +"You would have been disappointed; I don't give kisses for nothing." + +"But you do give kisses?" he asked, faltering. + +"When they are worth giving," in an undertone. + +Uros looked up shyly, then he began to scratch his head, and tried to +think of something tremendously difficult. + +"Well, do you know that one and no other?" she asked, laughing. + +All at once Uros' face brightened up. + +"What is it that makes men bald?" and he looked up at her +enquiringly. + +Had he had a little more guile, he might, perhaps, have seen that +this riddle of his was likewise not quite unknown to her; but he saw +nothing save her pomegranate lips. + +"Oh," said Milena, "their naughtiness, I daresay!" + +"No, that's not it." + +"Then, I suppose, it's their wit." + +"Why?" + +"They say that women have long hair and little wit, so I imagine that +men have little hair and much wit." + +"If that's the case, then, I've too much hair. But you haven't +guessed." + +"Then come to-morrow, and, perhaps I'll be able to tell you." + +"But you'll not ask anybody?" + +She again stretched out her hand to him. As he kept squeezing and +patting her hand: + +"Shall I tell you?" he asked, with almost hungry eyes. + +"And exact the penalty?" + +Uros smiled faintly. + +"Now, that is not fair; I gave you a whole day to think over it." + +"Well, I'll wait till to-morrow; only----" + +"Only, what?" + +"Don't try to guess." + +He said this below his breath, as if frightened at his own boldness. + +On the morrow he again waited impatiently for the moment to come when +he could go and see Milena. The hour arrived; Uros passed and +repassed by the house, but she was not to be seen. He durst not go +and knock at her door--nay, he was almost glad that she did not +expect him; it was much better so. + +He little knew that he was being closely watched by her, through one +of the crannies in the window-shutters. When, at last, he was about +to go off, Milena appeared on the threshold. With a beating heart the +youth turned round on his heels and went up to her. With much +trepidation he looked up into her face. + +"Does she, or does she not, know?" he kept asking himself; "and if +she does, am I to ask her for a kiss?" At that moment he almost +wished she had guessed the riddle, for he remembered his friend's +words: "It was a crime to make love to a married woman." + +"Oh, Uros, I'm like you! I can't guess. I've tried and tried, but +it's useless." + +There was a want of sincerity in the tone of her voice, that made it +sound affected, and she was speaking as quickly as possible to bring +out everything at a gush. After a slight interruption, she went on: + +"Do tell me quickly, I'm so curious to know. What is it that makes +men bald?" + +"It's strange that you can't guess, you that are so very clever," he +said, in a faltering voice. + +"What, you don't believe me?" she asked, pouting her lips in a pretty, +babyish fashion. + +Uros stood looking at her without answering; in his nervousness he +was quivering from head to foot, undecided whether he was to kiss her +or not. + +"Oh, I see, you don't want to tell me; you are afraid I'll not keep +my promise!" + +"I can ask to be paid beforehand; give me a kiss first, and I'll tell +you afterwards." + +Having got it out he heaved a deep sigh of relief, for he was glad it +was over. + +"Here, in the street?" she asked, with a forced smile. + +He advanced up to her and she retreated into the house. He was +obliged to follow her now, almost in spite of himself; moreover, he +could hardly drag himself after her, for he had, all at once, got to +be as heavy as lead. + +As soon as they were both within the house, she closed the door, and +leant her back against it. Then there was an awkward pause of some +minutes, for neither of them knew what to do, or what to say. She +took courage, however, and looking at him lovingly: + +"Now tell me, will you?" said she. + +As she uttered these words they clasped each other's hands, whilst +their eyes uttered what their lips durst not express; then, as Uros +stood there in front of Milena, he felt as if she was drawing him on, +and the walls of the room began to spin round and round. + +"Why, it is the loss of hair that makes people bald," he muttered in +a hot, feverish whisper, the panting tone of which evidently meant-- + +"Milena, I love you; have pity on me." + +She said something about being very stupid, but he could not quite +understand what it was; he only felt the swaying motion and the +powerful attraction she had over him. + +"I suppose you must have your reward now," she said, with a faint +voice. + +The youth felt his face all aglow; the blood was rushing from his +heart to his head with a whirring sound. His dizziness increased. + +Did she put out her lips towards his as she said this? He could +hardly remember. All that remained clear to him afterwards was, that +he had clasped her in his arms, and strained her to his chest with +all the might of his muscles. Had he stood there with his lips +pressed upon hers for a very long time? He really did not know; it +might have been moments, it might have been hours, for he had lost +all idea as to the duration of time. + +From that day, Uros was always hovering in the neighbourhood of +Radonic's house; he was to be found lurking thereabout morning, noon +and night. Milenko took him to task about it, but he soon found out +that if "hunger has no eyes," lovers, likewise, have no ears, and +also that "he who holds his tongue often teaches best." As for Uros, +his friend's reproaches were not half so keen as those he made to +himself; but love had a thousand sophistries to still the voice of +conscience. + +Not long after the eventful day of the riddle, Marko Radonic returned +unexpectedly to Budua, his ship having to undergo some slight +repairs. + +For a few days, Milenko managed to keep Uros and Milena apart, but, +young as they were, love soon prevailed over prudence. They therefore +began to meet in by-lanes and out-of-the-way places, especially +during those hours when the husband was busy at the building yard. At +first they were very careful, but the reiteration of the same act +rendered them more heedless. + +Uros was seen again and again at Milena's door when the husband was +not at home. People began to suspect, to talk; the subject was +whispered mysteriously from ear to ear; it soon spread about the town +like wild-fire. + +A month after Radonic had returned, he was one evening at the inn, +drinking and chatting with some old cronies about ships, cargoes and +freights. In the midst of the conversation, an old _guzlar_ passing +thereby, stepped in to have a draught of wine. Upon seeing the bard, +every man rose and, by way of greeting, offered him his glass to have +a sip. + +"Give us a song, Vuk; it is years since I heard the sound of your +voice," said Radonic. + +The bard complied willingly; he went up to a _guzla_ hanging on the +wall, and took it down. He then sat on a stool, placed his instrument +between his legs, and began to scrape its single gut-string with the +monochord bow; this prelude served to give an intonation to his +voice, and scan the verses he was about to sing. He thought a while, +and then--his face brightening up--he commenced the ballad of "Marko +Kraglievic and Janko of Sebinje." + +We Slavs are so fond of music and poetry, that we will remain for +hours listening to one of our bards, forgetting even hunger in our +delight. No sooner was the shrill sound of Vuk's voice heard than +every noise was hushed, hardly a man lifted his glass up to his +mouth. Even the passers-by walked softly or lingered about the door +to catch some snatches of the poet's song. + +The ballad, however, was a short one, and as soon as the bard had +finished, the strong Dalmatian wine went round again, and at every +cup the company waxed merrier, more tender-hearted, more gushing; a +few even grew sentimental and lachrymose. + +Wine, however, brought out all the harshness of Radonic's character, +and the more he drank the more brutal he grew; at such moments it +seemed as if all the world was his crew, and that he had a right to +bully even his betters, and say disagreeable things to everybody; his +excuse was that he couldn't help it--it was stronger than himself. + +"_Bogme!_" he exclaimed, turning to one of his friends; "I should +have liked to see your wife, Tripko, with Marko Kraglievic. Ah, poor +Tripko!" + +"Why my wife more than yours?" + +"Oh, my wife knows of what wood my stick is made; you only tickle +yours!" + +Tripko shrugged his shoulders, and added: + +"Every woman is not as sharp as Janko of Sebinje's wife, but most of +them are as honest." + +"That means to say that you think your wife is honest," said Radonic, +chuckling. "Poor Tripko!" + +"Come, come," quoth a friend, trying to mend matters, "do not spit in +the air, Radonic Marko, lest the spittle fall back on your face." + +"What do you mean by that?" asked Radonic, who, like all jokers, +could never take a jest himself. + +"I? nothing; only I advise you to be more careful how you trifle with +another man's wife--that's a ticklish subject." + +"Oh, Tripko's wife!" said he, disparagingly. + +"Radonic Marko, sweep before your own door, _bogati_!" replied +Tripko, scornfully. + +"Sweep before my door--sweep before my door, did you say?" and he +snatched up the earthen mug to hurl it at his friend's head, but the +by-standers pinioned his arm. + +"I did, and I repeat it, _bogati_!" + +"And you mean that there's dirt before my house?" asked Radonic, +scowling. + +"More than before mine, surely." + +"Come, Tripko, are you going to quarrel about a joke?" said one of +his friends. + +"My wife is no joking matter." + +"No, no," continued Radonic, "but he who has the itch scratches +himself." + +"Then scratch yourself, Marko, for surely you must itch when you're +not at home." + +"Hum!" said the host, "when asses joke it surely rains." + +Then he went up to the _guzlar_, and begged him to give them a song. +"Let it be something lively and merry," said he, "something they can +all join in." + +The bard thereupon scraped his _guzla_, silence was re-established, +and he began to sing the following _zdravica_: + + "Wine that bubbles says to man: + Drink, oh! drink me when you can; + For I never pass away, + You albeit last but a day; + I am therefore made for you, + And I love men brave and true; + Then remember, I am thine; + Drink, oh! drink the flowing wine!" + +As not one of them cared to see the quarrel continue, and end, +perhaps, in bloodshed, they all began to sing the drinking-song; the +wine flowed, the glasses jingled together in a friendly way, and, for +the nonce, peace prevailed. + +Just then, Milenko--unperceived by everybody except the landlord +--happened to come in, and the host, taking him aside, said to him: + +"Markovic Milenko, tell your friend, Uros, not to be seen fooling +about with Milena, for people have long tongues, and will talk; and, +above all, do not let him be found lurking near Radonic's house +to-night, for it might cost him his life." + +"What! has anybody been slandering him?" + +"Slandering is not the word; enough, tell him that Radonic Marko is +not a man to be trifled with." + +Milenko thanked the innkeeper, and, fearing lest his friend might be +getting into mischief, went at once in search of him. + +As Radonic was about to begin the discussion again, the host stopped +him. + +"You had better wait for an explanation till to-morrow, for when our +heads are fuddled we, like old Marija, do not see the things exactly +as they are. + +"What old Marija?" asked one of the men. + +"Don't you know the story of old Marija? Why, I thought everyone knew +it." + +"No; let's hear it." + + +Well, Marija was an old tippler, who was never known to be in her +senses. + +One morning she rose early, and, as usual, went into the wood to +gather a bundle of sticks. Presently she was seen running back as if +Old Nick was at her heels. Panting, and scared out of her wits, she +dropped on a bench outside the inn. As soon as she could speak, she +begged for a little glass of brandy. + +The people crowded around her and asked her what had happened. + +"No sooner had I left the roadside and got into the wood," she said, +"I bent down to gather some sticks, when, lo and behold! fifty wild +cats, as big as bears, with bristling hair, glaring eyes and sharp +claws, suddenly jumped out from behind the bushes. Holy Virgin! what +a fright I got, and see how scratched and torn I was by those +brutes." + +"Come, come, Marija," said the innkeeper; "you must have seen +double--you know you often do. How many cats were there?" + +"Well, I don't say there were exactly fifty, for I didn't count them; +but as true as God is in heaven there were twenty-five." + +"Don't exaggerate, Marija--don't exaggerate; there are not +twenty-five cats in the whole village." + +"Well, if there were not twenty-five, may the devil take me; surely +there were fifteen?" + +"Pooh! Marija, have another little drop, just to get over your +fright, and then you'll confess that there were not fifteen." + +Marija drained down another glass, and said: + +"May a thunderbolt strike me dead this very moment but five wild cats +pounced upon me all at once." + +"Come, Marija, now that you are in your senses, don't exaggerate. +Tell us how many wild cats there were." + +"Well, I'll take my oath that, as I bent down, a ray of sunlight was +pouring through the branches, and I saw something tremendously big +moving through the bushes; perhaps it was a cat." + +"Or a hare, running away," said the innkeeper. + +"Perhaps it was, for in my fright I instantly ran away too." + + +The men, whom wine rendered merry, laughed heartily, and the +innkeeper added: + +"You see, we are all of us, at times, like old Marija." + +As they were about to part, Radonic asked the man who had told him +not to spit in the wind what he and all the others had meant by their +innuendoes. + +"Oh, nothing at all! were you not joking yourself?" + +Still, by dint of much pressing, he got this man to tell him that +Uros Bellacic, Milos' son, had been seen flirting with Milena. "Of +course, this Uros is only a boy; still," added he, "Milena herself is +young, very young, and you--now, it is no use mincing the matter +--well, you are old, and therefore I, as a friend, advise you to be +more careful how you talk about other men's wives, for, some day or +other, you might find the laughers are against you." + +Thereupon the two men parted. + +Radonic now, for the first time in his life, understood what jealousy +was. He felt, in fact, that he had touched hell, and that he had got +burnt. Alas! his countrymen were right in thinking that Gehenna could +not be worse. + +As he walked on, the darkness of the night and his loneliness +increased the bitterness of his thoughts. He that hitherto had felt a +pleasure in disparaging every woman, was getting to be the +laughing-stock of the town, the butt of every man's jokes. + +Meanwhile, Milenko had gone in quest of his friend, his mind full of +gloomy forebodings. Passing by Radonic's cottage, he stopped and +looked round. The night was dark, and everything had a weird and +ghastly look. The leaves shivered and lisped ominously. Was it a bat +that flitted by him? + +Straining his eyes, he thought he saw something darker than the night +itself move near one of the windows of the house, then crouch down +and disappear. Had his senses got so keen that he had seen that +shadow, or was it only a vision of his over-heated imagination? + +He walked a few steps onward; then he stopped, and began to whistle +in a low, peculiar way. Their fathers had been wont to call each +other like that; and the two young men had sworn to each other that +whatever happened to them in their lifetime they would always obey +the call of that whistle. All dangers were to be overcome, all feuds +to be forgotten at that sound. They had sworn it on the image of St. +George. + +Milenko knew that if his friend was thereabouts he would not tarry a +single moment to come to him. In fact, a moment afterwards Uros was +at his side. + +Milenko explained his errand in as few words as possible. + +"Thank you," said Uros. "I'll go and tell Milena what has happened, +so that she may be on her guard." + +"But Radonic might be here at any moment." + +"I'll be back in a twinkling." + +"Anyhow, if you hear my whistle sneak off at once, and run for your +life." + +"All right." + +Uros disappeared; Milenko remained leaning against the bole of a +tree. He could hardly be seen at the distance of some steps. Snatches +of songs were now heard from afar; it was the drinking-song Vuk had +been singing. The drunkards were returning home. Soon after this he +heard the noise of steps coming on the road. Keeping a sharp +look-out, his keen eyes recognised Radonic's stalwart though clumsy +frame. He at once whistled to his friend, first in a low tone, then +louder and louder, as he came out from his hiding-place and walked on +to meet the enraged husband, and stop him on his way. Uros in the +meanwhile took to his heels. + +"_Dobro vetchir_, Radonic Marko," said Milenko to him. "How are you?" + +"And who are you, so glib with your tongue?" answered Radonic, in a +surly tone. + +"What, do you not know the children of the place?" + +"Children, nowadays, spring up like poisonous mushrooms after a wet +night. How is one to know them?" + +"Well, I am Milenko Markovic, Janko's son." + +"Ah, I thought so," replied Radonic fiercely, clasping the haft of +his knife. "Then what business have you to come prowling about my +house, making me the laughing-stock of the whole place. But you'll +not do so long." + +Suiting the action to the words, he lifted up his knife and made a +rush at the young man. + +Though Milenko was on his guard, and though the hand of the +half-drunken man was not quite steady, still it was firm and swift +enough in its movements for mischief's sake; and so he not only +wounded the young man slightly on his arm, but, the knife being +very sharp, it cut through all his clothes and scratched him, enough +to make him bleed, somewhere about the left breast. Had the blade but +gone an inch or two deeper, death most likely would have been +instantaneous. + +Milenko, quick as lightning, darted unexpectedly upon Radonic, +grasped the knife from his hand, knocked him down, and, after a +little scuffle, held him fast. Although Marko was a powerfully-built +man, still he was heavy and clumsy, slow and awkward in his +movements; and now, half-drunk as he was, it seemed as if his huge +body was no match for this lithe and nimble youth. + +When at last Radonic was fully overpowered, "Look here," said +Milenko, "you fully deserve to have this blade thrust into your +heart, for it almost went into mine. Now, tell me, what have I done +that you should come against me in this murderous way? You say that I +have been prowling about your house; but are you quite sure? And even +if I had, is it a reason to take away my life? Are you a beast or a +man?" + +"Well, when you have done preaching, either let me go or kill me; but +stop talking," said Radonic, sullenly. + +"I'll leave you as soon as I have done. First you must know that I +have hardly ever spoken to your wife. May God strike me blind if I +have! As for prowling about your house--well, half-an-hour ago I was +at the inn." + +"You were at the inn?" asked Radonic, incredulously. + +"Yes; you were all singing a _zdravica_." + +"I was singing?" + +"No; at least, I think not. You were, if I remember rightly, talking +with Livic. I only looked in. Uros Bellacic, another poisonous +mushroom, was with me." + +Just then it came to Radonic's head that this Uros, the son of Milos, +was the young man who had been flirting with his wife. + +"So your friend Uros was with you?" + +"Of course he was, and from there I accompanied him to his house, +where I left him. Now, I was going home, and the nearest way was by +your house. Had I, instead, been making love to your wife, I should +not have come up to you in a friendly way, as I did. I should have +hidden behind some tree, or skulked away out of sight. Anyhow, your +wife is young and pretty; it is but right you should be jealous." + +Milenko thereupon stretched out his hand to help the prostrate man to +rise. + +The bully, thoroughly ashamed of himself, got up moodily enough, +ruminating over all the young man had said, understanding, however, +that he had been too rash, and had thus bungled the whole affair. He +made up his mind, however, to keep a sharp look-out. + +"And now," continued Milenko, chuckling inwardly over his long-winded +speeches, made only to give his friend full time to be off, "as your +wife is perhaps in bed, let me come in and bandage up my arm, which is +bleeding; it is useless for me to go home and waken up my father and +mother, or frighten them for such a trifle. I might, it is true, go +to Uros, but it is not worth while making an ado for a scratch like +this, and have the whole town gossiping about your wife, for who will +believe that the whole affair is as absurd as it really is?" + +Radonic now felt sure that he had made a mistake, for, if this youth +had been trying to make love to Milena, he would not have asked to be +brought unexpectedly before the woman whose house he had just left. + +"Very well," replied he, gruffly, "come along." + +Having reached the cottage, he opened the door noiselessly, stepped +in as lightly as he could, and beckoned to Milenko to follow him. + +Utter darkness reigned within the house. Radonic took out his flint +and struck a light. He was glad to see that his wife was not only in +bed, but fast asleep. + +He helped the young man to take off his clothes, all stained with +blood; then he carefully washed his wounds, dressed them with some +aromatic plants whose healing virtues were well known. After this he +poured out a bumper of wine and pledged Milenko's health, as a sign +of perfect reconciliation, saying: + +"I have shed your innocent blood; mine henceforth is at your +disposal." + +With these words he took leave of him. + +Though it was late, Milenko, far from returning home, hastened to his +friend to tell him what had happened, and put him on his guard from +attempting to see Milena again. + +His advice, though good, was, however, superfluous, for Milena, far +from being asleep, had heard all that had taken place, and, as her +husband kept a strict watch over her, she remained indoors for several +days. + +When the incident came to the ears of either parent--though they +never knew exactly the rights of the whole affair, and they only +thought that it was one of Radonic's mad freaks of jealousy--both +Bellacic and Markovic thought it better to send their sons to sea as +soon as possible. + +"Having sown their wild oats," said Milos, "they can come back home +and settle into the humdrum ways of married life." + +"Besides," quoth Janko, "in big waters are big fish caught. The +shipping trade is very prosperous just now; freights are high; so +after some years of a seafaring life they may put aside a good round +sum." + +"Well," replied Milos, "the best thing would be to set them up in +life; let us buy for them a share of some brig, and they, with their +earnings, may in a few years buy up the whole ship and trade for +themselves." + +The vintage--very plentiful that year--was now over; the olive-trees, +which had been well whipped on St. Paul's Day, had yielded an +unexpected crop, so that the land, to use the Biblical pithy +expression, was overflowing, if not with milk and honey, at least +with wine and oil. The earth, having given forth its last fruits, was +now resting from its labours, but the young men, though they had +nothing more to do on shore, still lingered at Budua, no share of any +decent vessel having been found for them. + +At last the captain of a brigantine, a certain Giuliani, wishing to +retire from business in some years, agreed to take them on a trial +trip with him, and then, if he liked them and saw that they could +manage the vessel by themselves, to sell them half of his ship +afterwards. + +All the terms of the contract having been settled, it was agreed that +the two young men should sail in about a fortnight's time, when the +cargo had all been taken on board. + +Before starting, however, these youths, who loved each other +tenderly, made up their minds to become kith-and-kin to each other +--that is to say, brothers by adoption, or _pobratim_. + +As St. Nicholas--the patron saint of the opposite town of Bari, on +the Italian shores of the Adriatic--is one of the most revered saints +of the Slavs and the protector of sailors, his feast, which was +celebrated just a week before their departure, was chosen for the day +of this august ceremony. + +On the morning of that memorable day, the two young men, dressed, not +in their simple sailor-like attire, but in the gorgeous and +picturesque Buduan costume--one of the most manly and elegant dresses +as yet devised by human fancy--with damaskened silver-gilt pistols +and daggers to match, the hafts of which were all studded with round +bits of coral, dark chalcedonies and blood-red carnelians. These had +been the weapons of their great-grandfathers, and they showed by +their costliness that they were no mean upstarts, dating only from +yesterday, but of a good old stock of warriors. + +Thus decked out, and not in borrowed plumes, they wended their way to +the cathedral, where a special Mass was to be said for them. Each of +them was accompanied by a kind of sponsor or best man, and followed +by all their relations, as well as by a number of friends. + +Having entered the crowded church--for such a ceremony is not often +seen--Uros and Milenko went straight to the High Altar, and, bending +down on one knee, they crossed themselves with much devotion. Then, +taking off all their weapons, they laid them down on their right-hand +side, and lighted their huge tapers. The best men, who stood +immediately behind, and the relations, lit their wax candles, just as +if it had been the ritualistic pomp of marriage; thereupon they all +knelt down till the priest had finished chanting the liturgy, and, +after offering up the Holy Sacrament, Mass came to an end. This part +of the service being over, the priest came up to them, saying: + +"Why and wherefore come ye here?" + +"We wish to become brothers." + +"And why do you wish to become brothers?" + +"Out of love," quoth Uros, who was the elder of the two by a few +months. + +"But do you know, my children, what you really ask; have you +considered that this bond is a life-long one, and that, formed here +within the House of God, it can never be broken. Are you prepared to +swear that, in whatever circumstance of life you may be placed, the +friendship that binds you to-day will never be rent asunder?" + +"We are." + +"Can you take your oath to love and help each other as brothers +should, the whole of your lifetime?" + +"We can." + +"Well, then, swear before God and man to love each other with real +brotherly affection; swear never to be at variance, never to forsake +each other." + +The oath was solemnly taken. After this the priest administered them +the Communion--though no more mixed up with a drop of their own +blood; he gave them the pax to kiss, whilst the thurible-bearers were +swinging their huge silver censers, which sent forth a cloudlet of +fragrant smoke. The two friends were almost hid from the view of the +gazing crowd, for, the _pobratim_ being rich, neither frankincense +nor myrrh had been spared. Then the priest, in his richest stole, +placed both his hands above their heads, and uttered a lengthy prayer +to God to bless them. + +The ceremony having come to an end, the _pobratim_ rose and kissed +each other repeatedly. They were then embraced by their sponsors and +relations, and congratulated by their friends. As they reached the +church door, they were greeted by the shouts of "_Zivio!_" from all +their friends, who, in sign of joy, fired off their pistols. They +replied to their courtesy in the same fashion, and so the din that +ensued was deafening. + +Holding hands, they crossed the crowd, that parted to let them pass. +Thus they both bent their steps towards Markovic's house, for, as he +lived nearer the church than Bellacic did, he was the giver of the +first feast in honour of the _pobratim_. + +Upon entering the house, the young men kissed each other again; then +forthwith Uros kissed Janko Markovic, calling him father, whilst +Milenko greeted Uros' parents in the same way. + +Afterwards presents were exchanged by the _pobratim_, then each +member of either family had some gift in store for their +newly-acquired kinsman, so that before the day was over they had +quite a little store of pipes and gold-embroidered tobacco pouches. + +Dinner being now ready, they all sat down to a copious, if not a very +dainty meal; and the priest, who just before had asked a blessing +upon the friends, was the most honoured of all the guests. + +They ate heartily, and many toasts were drunk in honour of the two +young men, and those that could made speeches in rhyme to them. + +The feast was interrupted by the _Kolo_--a young man performing +sundry evolutions with a decanter of wine upon his head, looking all +the while as clumsy as Heine's famous bear, Atta Troll. + +Then they began again to eat and drink, and filled themselves up in +such a way that they could hardly move from the table any more, so +that by the time St. Nicholas' Day came to an end, the hosts and +almost all the guests were snoring in happy oblivion. + + + + +CHAPTER III + +CHRISTMAS EVE + + +The fierce equinoctial blasts which that year had lasted for more than +a month, were followed by a fortnight of fitful, heavy rain, +intermitted by sudden gales and stormy showers. Then after a period +of dull, drizzling, foggy weather, ending in a thick squall, the +clouds cleared up beautifully, the sun showed itself again, and +Spring apparently succeeded to Autumn. + +The wind fell entirely. Not the slightest breeze was blowing to bring +down the dry leaves, or to bicker the smooth surface of the waters. +For days and days the sea remained as even as a mass of shining +melted lead, with the only difference that it was as fathomably +liquid and as diaphanously pure as the air itself, of which it even +had the vaporous cerulean clearness. Far away on the offing, the +waters blended with the watchet airiness of the surrounding +atmosphere, so that the line of the horizon could nowhere be seen, +the blueish-grey ocean melting into the greyish-blue of the sky. +Nearer the shore, the smooth translucent sheet was streaked and +spotted with those sheeny stripes and silvery patches, which Shelley +terms a "coil of crystalline streams." + +The earth itself had a fleecy look. The shadowy opal greys of the +headlands, the liquid amethystine tints of the hills, the light +irradiated coasts, all rising out of the luminous waves, looked +lovelier even than they had done in summer, at noontide, when swathed +by a splendent haziness, for now the cold opaque clay tints themselves +looked transparent, wrapped up as they were in that vaporous pellucid +veil of mists. + +Nature was wearing now her garishly gorgeous autumnal garment, and +the foliage of the trees had acquired the richest prismatic dyes, for +the reddish russets and the glowing orange yellows predominated over +the whitish blues and the faint greens. The vegetation, but for the +funereal cypresses, had the sere hectic hue of dying life. + +The seafaring people of Budua had anything but an admiration for that +calm, soft, misty weather, or for that placid, unruffled sea; not +that they lacked the sense of beauty, but they chafed at being kept +at home, when they ought already to have been in distant parts of the +Mediterranean, or even returning from the farthermost corners of the +Adriatic. + +Thus the departure of the _pobratim_ had already been postponed for +about a fortnight, as every day they waited patiently for a +favourable wind to swell their flagging sails; but the wind never +came. The friends, however, did not fret at this delay, and now, +having stayed so long, they hoped that the calm weather would +continue a little longer, so that they might spend Christmas at home +with their families. + +Radonic had sailed off some time since. Milena, after that, had gone +to spend some weeks with her parents in Montenegro. On her return, +she kept a good deal at home, for after the fright she had had on +that eventful night when she had seen Milenko all covered with blood, +she had made up her mind to give up flirting, either with Uros or +with any other young man, and, for a short time, she kept her +resolution. Moreover, she felt that she cared for the young man far +more than she liked to confess to herself, and that she thought +oftener of him than she ought to have done, and much more than was +good for the peace of her mind. Another reason now prompted her to be +seen abroad as little as possible. + +The man who, after the quarrel at the inn, had followed Radonic to +his house, and told him of his wife's levity in her conduct towards +Uros, was a certain Vranic, one of Milena's rejected suitors. He was +more than a plain-looking man; he was mean and puny. Besides this, he +had a cast in his eye, which rendered him hateful to all people, and +justly so, for does not the wisdom of our ancients say: "Beware of a +man branded by the hand of God?" Still, as if this was not enough, +Vranic possessed the gift of second sight, if it can be called a +gift. He was, therefore, a most unlucky fellow. The priest had, it +appears, made some mistake in christening him, so that nothing ever +had gone on well with him. + +Vranic had, therefore, always been not only shunned by all the girls +as an uncanny kind of man who always saw ghosts, but even all the men +avoided him. He ought to have left Budua and gone to live abroad in a +place where he was not known, but it is a hard thing for a man to +leave his own country for ever. + +Amongst many defects, Vranic had one quality, if really it can be +called a quality. This was the stern tenacity of purpose, the stolid +opiniativeness of the peasant, the stubborn firmness of the mule, the +ant and the worm, that nothing baffles, nothing turns aside. Once +bent upon doing something, it would have been as easy to keep water +from running down a hill as make him desist from his obstinacy. +He had, in fact, the inert, unreasoning will of the Slovene. + +The day after Radonic's departure, Vranic had come again to make love +to Milena. Of course, she would not listen to him, but spurned him +from her like a cur. He simply smiled, in the half-shrewd, half-apish +way in which peasants grin, and threatened to report everything she +did to her husband on his return. He told her he would poison +Radonic's ear in such a way that her life would henceforth be +anything but a pleasure. Milena answered that, as her conscience was +quite clear, she allowed him to act as he pleased. + +In the meanwhile Uros' love was getting the mastery over him. +Milena's presence haunted him day and night; it overflowed his heart +in a way that made him feel as if he were suffering from some slow, +languishing fever. Looking upon Milena's face was like gazing at the +full moon on a calm summer night; only that this planet's amber light +shed a sense of peace on the surface of the rippleless waters, whilst +this woman's beauty made his heart beat faster and his nerves tingle +with excitement. Listening to her voice reminded him of the +love-songs he had heard the _guzlari_ chant on winter evenings +--amatory poems which heated the blood like long draughts of strong +wine. His love for her had changed his very nature; instead of caring +only for fishing and shooting, unfurling the broad sails and seeing +the breeze swell the white canvas, a yearning hitherto unknown now +filled his breast. At times he even avoided his friend, and went +wandering alone, his steps--almost unwillingly--leading him to choose +places where he had met Milena, and which were still haunted by her +presence. Many a night he would roam or linger near her house, hoping +to catch a glimpse of her; but, alas! she seldom came out, and she +was never seen either at her window or her door. Her lonely cottage +looked deserted, desolate. + +On the night when the brig was expected to weigh anchor, Uros slunk +away stealthily, when the crew were fast asleep, and went on shore. +The inns were already shut, and not a light was to be seen in any +window. He, therefore, plucked up all his courage, hastened to reach +Milena's lonely house, and there, under her casement, he sang to her +the following _rastanak_, or farewell song: + + Though cold and deaf, farewell, love; + We two must part. + But can you live alone, love, + If I depart? + + From o'er the boundless sea, love, + And mountains high, + From o'er the dark, deep wood, love, + You'll hear me sigh. + + If you are deaf to me, love, + Still on the plain + You'll see the flowers fade, love, + Seared by my pain. + + Still you are deaf to me, love, + Without a tear; + I go without a word, love, + My soul to cheer. + + I send you back those blooms, love, + Which once you gave; + For they are now to me, love, + Rank as the grave. + + Amongst those cold, grey buds, love, + A snake doth lie, + As you have not for me, love, + A single sigh. + +He finished and listened, then he heard a slight noise overhead; the +window was quietly opened, and Milena's face was seen peeping between +the cranny as she held the shutters ajar, for her beautiful, lustrous +eyes sparkled in the darkness. + +"Uros!" she whispered, "how can you be so very foolish as to come and +sing under my windows! What will the people say, if they should +happen to see you?" + +"Who can hear me in this lonely spot? Everybody is asleep, not a +mouse is stirring abroad." + +"Someone or other seems always to hang about, spying all I do. For +your sake, and for mine, go away, I beg you. After the fright I had +upon that dreadful night, I have got to be such a coward." + +"No; the truth is, after that night, you never cared for me any +more." + +"I must not care for you;" then, with a sigh, and faintly: "nor must +you for me." + +"Would it make you very happy if I forgot you--if I loved someone +else?" + +She did not give him any reply. + +"You don't answer," he said. + +"You'll forget me soon enough, Uros--far from the eyes, far from the +heart." + +"And if I come back loving you more than ever?" + +"You'll be away for a long time; when you come back----" + +"Well?" + +"Perhaps I'll be dead." + +"Don't say such things, Milena, or you'll drive me mad." + +Then, with cat-like agility, he climbed the low wall, and, with hands +clutching at the window-sill, and the tips of his _opanke_, or +sandal-like shoes, resting on some stones jutting out, he stood at +the height of her head. His other arm soon found itself resting round +her unresisting neck. He lifted up his mouth towards hers, and their +pouting lips met in a long, lingering kiss. + +But all at once she shivered from head to foot, and, drawing herself +away, she begged Uros to have pity on her and to go away. + +"Milena, it is perhaps the last time we meet; more than one ship +never came back to the port from which it sailed; more than one +sailor never saw his birth-place again." + +"But, only think, if some one passing by should see us here." + +"Well, then, let me come in, so nobody'll see me." + +"Uros, are you mad? Allow you to come in at this hour of the night!" + +"What greater harm would there be than in the broad daylight?" + +"No; if you really love me, don't ask me such a thing." + +Uros obeyed, and, after a few minutes, with the tears gushing to his +eyes, he bade her good-bye. As he was sliding down, he thought he +heard a noise of footsteps on the shingle of the pathway near the +house. Uros shuddered and listened. Was it some man lurking there, he +asked himself. If so, who could it be? Radonic had, perhaps, come +back to Budua to keep watch over his wife--catch her on the hop, and +then revenge himself upon her. The sudden fright now curdled his +blood. Still, he was not afraid for himself; he was young and strong, +and he was on his guard. Even if it was the incensed husband, the +night was too dark for anyone to take a good aim and fire from a +distance. If he was afraid, it was for Milena's sake. Radonic had, +perhaps, returned; he had seen him climb down from his own house at +that late hour. Rash as he was, he would surely go and kill his wife, +who, even if she was a flirt, was by no means as bad as what he or +the world would think her to be. + +"Anyhow," said Uros to himself, "if it is Radonic, he will either +rush at me, or fire at me from where he is hiding; or else he will go +towards his own house." His suspense would only last a few seconds. + +It lasted much longer. Many minutes passed, if he could reckon time +by the beating of his heart. In the meanwhile he tried to fathom the +darkness from whence the slight sound had come. Not being able to see +or hear anything, he went off, walking on tip-toe; but he listened +intently as he went. All at once there was again a slight rustling +sound. Uros walked on for a while, then, stepping on the grass and +crouching between the bushes, slowly and stealthily he came back near +the house and waited. Not many minutes had elapsed when he heard the +noise of footsteps once more, but he saw nobody. + +Oh! how his heart did beat just then! The sound of steps was +distinctly heard upon the shingle, and yet no human being, no living +creature, was to be seen. What could this be? + +"_Bogme ovari!_--God protect me"--he said to himself, "it is, +perhaps, a ghost, a vampire!" + +Darkness in itself is repellent to our nature; therefore, to be +assaulted at night, by any unseen foe, must daunt the bravest amongst +the brave. + +It is, then, not to be wondered that Uros was appalled at the idea of +having to become the prey of an invisible, intangible ghost, against +which it was impossible to struggle. He waited for a while, +motionless, breathless. There was not the slightest noise, nothing +was stirring any more; but in the dusky twilight everything seemed to +assume strange and weird shapes--the gnarled branches of the olive +trees looked like stunted and distorted limbs, whilst the bushes +seemed to stretch forth long waving tentacles, with which to grasp +the passer-by. As he looked about, he saw a light appear at a +distance, flit about for a while, extinguish itself, reappear again +after some time, then go out as before. Then he heard the barking of +a dog; the sound came nearer, then it lost itself in the stillness of +the night. + +Uros, horror-stricken, was about to take to his heels, when again he +heard the footsteps on the shingle. He, therefore, stood stock-still +and waited, with a heart ready to burst. He could not leave Milena to +the danger that threatened her, so he chose to remain and fall into +the clutches of a vampire. He listened; the steps, though muffled, +were those of a rather heavy man. The sound continued, slowly, +stealthily, distinctly. Uros looked towards the place from whence the +noise came, and thereupon he saw a man creep out from within the +darkness of the bushes and go up towards Radonic's house. + +Uros, seeing a human figure, felt all his superstitious fears vanish; +he looked well at it to convince himself that it was not some +deceptive vision, some skin all bloated with blood, as vampires are. +No, it was a man. Still, who could it be, he was too short and puny +to be Radonic? + +Who could this man be, going to Milena's in the middle of the night? + +A bitter feeling of jealousy came over him, a steel hand seemed to +grasp his heart. Milena had just been flirting with him, could she +not do the same with another man. She had listened to his vows of +love, he had been a fool to go off when she begged him to remember +that she was another man's wife. At that moment he hated her, and he +was vexed with himself. + +There are moments in life when we repent having been too good, for +goodness sometimes is but a sign of weakness and inexperience; it +only shows our unfitness for the great struggle of life, where the +weak go to the wall. + +During the time that Radonic had been at home he had never felt the +bitter pangs of jealousy as much as he did now. It humbled him to +think that he had left his place to another more fortunate rival, +apparently an older man. + +Then he asked himself how he could have been so foolish as to love a +married woman. + +"After all," said he to himself, "it is but right that I should +suffer, why have I lifted up my eyes upon a woman who has sworn to +love another man?" + +He had sinned, and he was now punished for his crime. + +When flushed with success the voice of conscience had ever been mute, +but now, when disappointment was sinking his heart, that voice cried +out loudly to him. Conscience is but a coward at best, a sneak in +prosperity, a bully in our misfortune. + +There in the darkness of the night, lifting his eyes up towards +heaven, he called upon the blessed Virgin to come to his help. + +"Oh! immaculate mother of Christ our Saviour, grant me the favour of +seeing that this man is no fortunate rival, that he is not Milena's +lover, and henceforth I shall never lift up my eyes towards her, even +if I should have to crush my heart, I shall never harbour in it any +other feeling for her except that of a brother or a friend." + +During this time the man had gone up to the cottage door. Almost +unthinkingly and with the words of the prayer upon his lips, Uros +stood up, went a step onwards, and then he stopped. The man now +tapped at the door. A pause followed. The man knocked again a little +louder. Thereupon Milena's voice was heard from within. Though Uros +was much too far to hear what she had said, he evidently understood +that she was asking who was outside; the young man, treading on the +grass as much as he could, stole on tip-toe a little nearer the +house. + +He could not catch the answer the man had given, for it was in a low +muffled undertone. + +"Who are you?" repeated Milena from inside, "and what do you want?" + +"It is I, Uros," said the man in a muffled tone; "open your door, my +love." + +"Liar," shouted Uros from behind, and with a bound he had jumped upon +the man and, gripping him by the nape of the neck and by the collar +of his _jacerma_, he tugged at him and dragged him away from the +door. + +As the man struggled to free himself, Uros recognised him to be +Vranic--Vranic the ghost-seer, Vranic the spy. + +"How dare you come here in my name, you scoundrel," said the young +man, and giving him a mighty shake, that tore the strong cloth of the +jacket, he cast him away. + +"And pray what are you doing here at this time of the night?" asked +Vranic, his hand on the haft of his knife. + +"And what is that to you--are you her husband or her kinsman? But as +you wish to know, I'll tell you; I came to protect her from a +dastardly coward like yourself." + +"I doubt whether Radonic will be glad to hear that you go sneaking +into his house at the dead of night, just to keep his wife from any +harm; that is really good of you." And Vranic, standing aloof, burst +out laughing. Then he added, "Anyhow, he'll be most grateful to you +when he knows it." + +"And who'll tell him?" + +"I shall." + +"If I let you, you spy." + +Thereupon Uros rushed upon Vranic so unexpectedly, that the latter +lost his balance, slipped and fell. The younger man held him down +with one hand, and with the other he lifted up his dagger. Seeing +himself thus overpowered: + +"What, are you going to murder me like that?" he gasped out, "do you +not see that I was joking? If you'll but let me go I'll swear not to +say a word about the matter to anyone." + +"On what will you swear?" + +"On anything you like, on the holy medals round my neck." + +With a jerk that almost choked the man, Uros broke the string and +snatched the amulets from Vranic's neck, and presented them to him, +saying: + +"Now, man, swear." + +Vranic took his oath. + +"Now," said Uros, "swear not to harm Milena while I am away, swear +not to worry her by your threats, or in any other way soever." + +Vranic having sworn again, was left free to get up and go off. + +When he was at a few paces from Uros he stopped, and with a scowl +upon his face he muttered: + +"Those medals were not blessed, so you can use your dagger now, if +you like, and I shall use my tongue, we shall see which of us two +will suffer most; anyhow, remember the proverb, 'Where the goat +breathes, even the vine withers.'" + +Then, stooping down, he gathered a handful of stones and flung them +with all his might at Uros, after which he took to his heels and ran +off with all his might. + +The stones went hissing by Uros, but one of them caught him on his +brow, grazing off the skin and covering his eyes with blood. Uros, +blinded by the stone, remained standing for a while, and then, seeing +that Vranic had run off, he went up to Milena's door and tapped +lightly. + +"Milena," said he, "have you heard the quarrel I have had with +Vranic?" + +"Yes, did he hurt you?" + +"Only a mere scratch." + +"Nothing more?" + +"No." + +"Surely?" + +"No, indeed!" + +Milena would willingly have opened the door to see if Uros was only +scratched, but she was in too great a trepidation to do so. + +"Well," added she, "if you are not hurt, please go away." + +"But are you not afraid Vranic might come back?" + +"Well, and if he does? He'll find the door shut as before. Moreover, +I'm by no means afraid of him, he is the greatest coward, or at least +the only coward, of the town; therefore do not stay here on my +account, you can do me no good." + +"Then you do not want me?" said Uros, in a lingering way, and with a +sigh. + +"No; go," quoth she. "If you love me, go." + +Uros turned his back on the cottage and wended his steps homewards. +The moon was now rising above the hills in the distance. Milena went +to the window and looked at the young man going off. Her heart +yearned after him as he went, and she fain would have called him +back. + +Poor fellow, he had fought for her, he was wounded, and now she let +him go off like that. It was not right. Was his wound but a scratch? +She ought to have seen after it. It was very ungrateful of her not to +have looked after it. + +All at once Uros stopped. Her heart began to beat. He turned round +and came back on his steps. At first she was delighted, then she was +disappointed. She wished he had not turned back. + +He walked back slowly and stealthily, trying to muffle his steps. + +What was he going to do? + +Milena ran to the door and put her ear close to the key-hole. + +She heard Uros come up to the very sill and then it seemed to her +that he had sat or crouched upon the step. + +Was he hurt? Was he going to stay there and watch over the house like +a faithful dog? + +She waited a while; not the slightest sound was heard; she could +hardly keep still. At last, unable to bear it any longer: + +"Uros," said she, "is that you?" + +"Yes." + +"And what are you doing there?" + +"I was going to watch over you." + +Overcome by this proof of the young man's love, Milena slowly opened +the door, and taking Uros by both his hands she made him come in. + +The wind did not rise and the brigantine rode still at anchor in the +bay. The days passed, and at last merry Christmas was drawing near. +The _pobratim_--though anxious to be off--hoped that the calm weather +would last for a week longer, that they might pass the +_badnji-vecer_--or the evening of the log--and Christmas Day with +their parents. + +Their wishes were granted; one day passed after the other and the +weather was always most beautiful. Not the slightest cloud came +either to dim or enhance the limpid blue sky, and though the mornings +were now rather fresh, the days were, as yet, delightfully warm and +radiant with sunshine. In the gardens the oleanders were all in full +bloom, so were also the roses, the geraniums and the China asters; +whilst in the field many a daisy was seen glinting at the modest +speedwell, and the Dalmatian convolvulus entwined itself lovingly +around the haughty acanthus, which spread out their fretted leaves to +the sun, taking up as much space as well they could, while in damp +places the tall, feathery grasses grew amidst the sedges, the reeds, +and the rushes and all kinds of rank weeds of glowing hues. Not a +breath of wind came to ripple the surface of the shining blue waters. + +On the 24th a little cloud was seen far off, the colour of the waters +grew by degrees of a dull leaden tint, and the wind began to moan. In +the meanwhile the cloudlet that had been the size of a weasel grew to +be as big as a camel, then it swelled out into the likeness of some +huge megatherium, it rolled out its massy coils and overspread the +whole space of the sky. Then the clouds began to lower, and seemed to +cover the earth with a ponderous lid. The wind and the cold having +increased, the summer all at once passed away into dreary and bleak +winter. + +Christmas was to be kept at Milos Bellacic's house, for though the +two families had always been on the most friendly terms, they, since +the day upon which the two young men had become _pobratim_, got to be +almost one family. Some other friends had been asked to come and make +merry with them on that evening. Amongst other guests Zwillievic, +Milena's father, who was a cousin of Bellacic's, having come with his +wife to spend the Christmas holidays at Budua, had accepted his +kinsman's hospitality. Milena had also been asked to come and pass +those days merrily with her parents. + +At nightfall, all the guests being already assembled, the yule-log, +the huge bole of an olive tree, was, with great ado, brought to the +house. Bellacic, standing on the threshold with his cap in his hand, +said to it: + +"Welcome log, and may God watch over you." + +Then, taking the _bucara_ or wooden bottle, he began to sprinkle it +with wine, forming a cross as he did so, then he threw some wheat +upon it, calling a blessing upon his house, and upon all his guests, +who stood grouped behind him, after which all the guests answered in +chorus, "And so be it." Thereupon all the men standing outside the +house fired off their guns and pistols to show their joy, shouting: +"May Christmas be welcome to you." + +After this Uros brought in his own log and the same ceremony had once +more to be gone through. + +The logs were then festively placed upon the hearth, where they had +to burn the whole night, and even till the next morning. + +In the meantime a copious supper was prepared and set upon the table. +In the very midst, taking the place of an _epergne_, there was a +large loaf, all trimmed up with ivy and evergreens, and in the centre +of this loaf there were thrust three wax candles carefully twisted +into one, so as to form a taper, which was lit in honour of the Holy +Trinity. Christmas Eve being a fast day, the meal consisted of fish +cooked in different ways. + +First, there was a pillau with scallops, then cod--which is always +looked upon as the staple fare of evening--after which followed +pickled tunny, eels, and so forth. The _starescina_, taking a +mouthful of every dish that was brought upon the table, went to throw +it upon the burning log, so that it might bring him a prosperous +year; his son then followed his example. + +After all had eaten and were filled, they gathered around the hearth +and squatted down upon the straw with which the floor was strewn +--for, in honour of Christ, the room had been made to look as much as +possible like a manger, or a stable. They again greeted each other +with the usual compliments, "for many years," and so forth, and black +coffee was served in Turkish fashion, that is, in tiny cups, held by +a kind of silver, or silvered metal, egg-cup instead of a saucer. +Most everyone loosened his girdle, some took off their shoes, and all +made themselves comfortable for the night. Thereupon Milenko, who was +somewhat of a bard and who had studied an epic song for the +occasion, one of those heroic and wild _junaske_, took his _guzla_, +and gave the company the story of "Marko Kraglievic and the Moor of +Primoryé," as follows:-- + + +KRAGLIEVIC MARKO I CRNI ARAPIN. + + An Arab lord had once in Primoryé, + A mighty castle by the spray-swept shore; + Its many lofty halls were bright and gay, + And Moorish lads stood watching at each door. + Albeit its wealth, mirth never echoed there; + Its lord was prone to be of pensive mood, + And oft his frown would freeze the very air; + On secret sorrow he e'er seemed to brood. + At times to all his _svati_ would he say: + "What do I care for all this wide domain, + Or for my guards on steeds in bright array? + Much more than dazzling pomp my heart would fain + Have some fond tie so that the time might seem + Less tedious in its flight. I am alone. + A mother's heart, a sister's, or, I deem, + A bride's would be far more than all I own." + Thus unto him his liegemen made reply: + "O, mighty lord! they say that Russia's Czar + Has for his heir, a daughter meek and shy, + Of beauty rare, just like the sparkling star + That gleams at dawn and shines at eventide. + Now, master, we do wait for thy behest. + Does thy heart crave to have this maid for bride? + Say, shall we sally forth unto her quest?" + The master mused a while, then answered: "Aye, + By Allah! fetch this Russian for my mate! + Tell her she'll be the dame of Primoryé, + The mistress of my heart and my estate. + But stop.--If Russia should not grant his child, + Then tell him I shall kill his puny knights, + And waste his lands. Say that my love is wild, + Hot as the Lybian sun, deep as the night!" + Now, after riding twenty days and more, + The _svati_ reached at last their journey's end, + Then straightway to the Russian King they bore + Such letters as their lord himself had penned. + The great Czar having read the Moor's demand, + And made it known to all his lords at Court, + Could, for a while, but hardly understand + This strange request; he deemed it was in sport. + A blackamoor to wed his daughter fair! + "I had as lief," said he, "the meanest lad + Of my domains as son-in-law and heir, + Than this grim Moor, who must in sooth be mad." + But soon his wrath was all changed into grief, + On learning to his dread and his dismay, + That not a knight would stir to his relief, + No one would fight the Moor of Primoryé! + Howe'er the Queen upon that very night + Did dream a dream. Within Prilipù town, + Beyond the Balkan mounts, she saw a knight, + Whose mighty deeds had won him great renown. + (Kraglievic Marko was the hero's name); + His flashing sword was always seen with awe + By faithless Turks, who dreaded his great fame; + And in her dream that night the Queen then saw + This mighty Serb come forth to save her child. + Then did the Czarin to her lord relate + The vision which her senses had beguiled, + And both upon it long did meditate. + Upon the morrow, then, the Czar did write + To Marko, asking him to come and slay + This haughty Moor, as not a Russian knight + Would deign to fight the lord of Primoryé. + As meed he promised him three asses stout, + Each laden with a sack of coins of gold. + As soon as Marko read this note throughout, + These words alone the messenger he told: + "What if this Arab killed me in the strife, + And from my shoulders he do smite my head. + Will golden ducats bring me back to life? + What do I care for gold when I am dead?" + The herald to the King this answer bore. + Thereon the Queen wrote for her daughter's sake: + "Great Marko, I will give thee three bags more, + Six bags in all, if you but undertake + To free my daughter from such heinous fate, + As that of having to become the bride + Of such a man as that vile renegade." + To Prilipù the messenger did ride, + But Marko gave again the same reply. + The Czar then summoned forth his child to him: + "Now 'tis thy turn," said he; "just write and try + To get the Serb to kill this man whose whim + Is to have thee for wife." The maid thus wrote: + "O Marko, brother mine, do come at once. + I beg you for the love that you devote + To God and to St. John, come for the nonce + To free me from the Moor of Primoryé. + Seven sacks of gold I'll give you for this deed, + And, if I can this debt of mine repay, + A shirt all wrought in gold will be your meed. + Moreover, you shall have my father's sword; + And as a pledge thereon the King's great seal, + Which doth convey to all that Russia's lord + Doth order and decree that none shall deal + Its bearer harm; no man shall ever slay + You in his wide domains. Come, then, with speed + To free me from the lord of Primoryé." + To Prilipù the herald did proceed + With all due haste; he rode by day and night, + Through streams and meads, through many a bushy dell; + At last at Marko's door he did alight. + When Marko read the note, he answered: "Well--" + Then mused a while, then bade the young page go. + But said the youth: "What answer shall I give?" + "Just say I answered neither yes nor no." + The Princess saw that she would ne'er outlive + Her dreadful doom, and walking on the strand, + There, 'midst her sobs, she said: "O thou deep sea, + Receive me in thy womb, lest the curst brand + Of being this man's wife be stamped on me." + Just when about to plunge she lifts her eyes, + And lo! far off, a knight upon a steed, + Armed cap-à-pie, advancing on, she spies. + "Why weepest thou, O maid? tell me thy need, + And if my sword can be of any use . . ." + "Thanks, gentle sir. Alas! one knight alone + Can wield his brand for me; but he eschews + To fight." + "A coward, then, is he." + "'Tis known + That he is brave." + "His name?" + "He did enrich + The soil with Turkish blood at Cossovo. + You sure have heard of Marko Kraglievic." + Thereon he kissed her hand and answered low: + "Well, I am he; and I come for your sake. + Go, tell the Czar to give thee as a bride + Unto the Moor; then merry shall we make + In some _mehan_, and there I shall abide + The coming of the lord of Primoryé." + The Princess straightway told the Czar, and he + At once gave orders that they should obey + All that the Serb might bid, whate'er it be. + That night with all his men the Arab came-- + Five hundred liegemen, all on prancing steeds; + The Czar did welcome them as it became + Men high in rank, and of exalted deeds. + Then, after that, they all went to the inn. + "Ah!" said the Moor, as they were on their way, + "How all are scared, and shut themselves within + Their homes; all fear the men of Primoryé." + But, as they reached the door of the _mehan_, + The Arab, on his horse, would cross the gate, + When, on the very sill, he saw a man + Upon a steed. This sight seemed to amate + The Arab lord. But still he said: "Stand off! + And let me pass." + "For you, this is no place, + Miscreant heathen dog!" + At such a scoff + Each angry liegeman lifted up his mace. + Thereon 'twixt them and him ensued a fight, + Where Marko dealt such blows that all around + The din was heard, like thunder in the night. + He hacked and hewed them down, until a mound + Of corpses lay amid a pool of blood, + For trickling from each fearful gash it streamed, + And wet the grass, and turned the earth in mud + Of gore; whilst all this time each falchion gleamed, + For Marko's sword was ruthless in the fray, + And when it fell, there all was cleaved in twain; + No coat of mail such strokes as his could stay, + Nor either did he stop to ascertain + If all the blood that trickled down each limb + Was but that of the foe and not his own. + And thus he fought, until the day grew dim, + And thus he fought, and thus he stood alone + Against them all; till one by one they fell, + As doth the corn before the reaper's scythe, + Whilst their own curses were their only knell! + The Serb, howe'er, was still both strong and lithe, + When all the swarthy Arabs round him lay. + "Now 'tis thy time to die, miscreant knight!" + He called unto the Moor of Primoryé. + With golden daggers they began to fight; + They thrust and parried both with might and main; + But soon the Arab sank to writhe in pain. + Then Marko forthwith over him did bend + To stab him through the heart. Then off he took + His head, on which he threw a light cymar + (For 'twas, indeed, a sight that few could brook): + Thus covered up, he took it to the Czar. + Then Marko got the Princess for his wife-- + Besides the gold that was to be his meed, + And from that day most happy was his life, + Known far and wide for many a knightly deed. + + +The merry evening came to an end; in the meanwhile the weather had +undergone another transformation. The cold having set in, the thin +sleet had all at once changed into snow. The tiny patches of ice and +the little droplets of rain had swelled out into large fleecy flakes, +which kept fluttering about hither and thither, helter-skelter, +before they came down to the ground; they seemed, indeed, to be +chasing one another all the time, with the grace of spring +butterflies. Even when the flakes did fall it was not always for +long, for the wind, creeping slily along the earth, often lifted them +up and drove them far away, whirling them into eddies, till at last +they were allowed to settle down in heaps, blocking up doors and +windows; or else, flying away, they ensconced themselves in every +nook and corner, in every chink and cranny. + +That evening, when the good Christians went to church to hear the +oft-repeated tidings of great joy, uttered by the _vladika_, or +priest, in the sacramental words: _Mir Bogig, Christos se rodè_, or +"The peace of God be with you, Christ is born"; and when, after +midnight, they returned home, while huge logs were blazing on every +hearth, they hardly knew again either the town or its neighbourhood, +all wrapped up in a mantle of dazzling whiteness; the sight was a +rather unusual one, for the inhabitants of Budua had seen snow but +very seldom. + +The whole Christmas Day was spent very pleasantly in going about from +house to house, wishing everyone joy and happiness, or receiving +friends at home and drinking bumpers to their health. It was, indeed, +a merry, forgiving time, when the hearts of men were full of +kindness and good-will, and peace reigned upon earth. + +There were, indeed, some exceptions to the general rule of +benevolence, for, now and then, some man, even upon that hallowed +day, bore within his breast but a clay-cold heart, in which grudge, +envy and malice still rankled, and the Christmas greetings, wheezed +through thin lips, had but a chilling and hollow sound. + +The very first person who came to Bellacic's house early on Christmas +morning was Vranic, the spy. It was not out of love that he came. He +had been sneaking about the house, casting long, prying glances from +beneath the hood of his _kabanica_, or great-coat, trying to find out +whether Milena were there, for he knew that she had not passed the +night in her own house. + +All at once, whilst he was sneaking about, he was met by several +young men, bent on their Christmas rounds of visits; they took him +along with them, and, though quite against himself, he was the first +to put his foot in Bellacic's house upon that day. + +According to the Slav custom, he was asked, after the usual +greetings, to tap the yule log with his stick. He at once complied, +with as much good grace as he could muster, uttering the well-known +phrase: + +"May you have as many horses, cows, and sheep as the _badnjak_ has +given you sparks." + +Knowing that while he was saying these words every member of the +family, and every guest gathered together around him, would hang upon +his looks, trying to read in his face whether the forthcoming year +would be a prosperous one, for the expression of the features, as +well as the way in which these words are uttered, are reckoned to be +sure omens, Vranic, therefore, tried to put on a pleasant look and a +good-natured appearance, but this was so alien to his nature that he +was by no means sure of success. + +Uros and Milena had, however, stood aloof; they had understood that +the prediction must be unfavourable, and, though they did not look +up, they heard that the voice, which was meant to be soft and oily, +was bitter, hard and grating. + +A gloom had come over the house just then; it seemed as if that man +of ill-omen had stepped in to damp everyone's joy. + +Uros remained stock-still, and though his fingers instinctively +grasped the handle of his knife, still he was too much of a Slav to +harm a guest in his own house. As for Milenko, not having any reasons +for being so forbearing, he was about to thrust the fiend out of his +adopted parents' house, when Vranic, drawing back from the hearth, +caught his foot on the fag end of a log, and, not to fall, stepped +over it. This was the remainder of that log which Uros had himself +put upon the fire, and, according to the traditional custom, it had +been taken away from the hearth before it had been quite consumed, +for it was to be kept, as the fire on New Year's Eve was to be +kindled with it. Vranic hardly noticed what he had done, but everyone +present looked stealthily at one another, and quietly crossed +themselves. Vranic, they knew, had come with evil thoughts in his +head, but now he had only brought harm upon himself, for it is well +known that whoever steps over a _badnjak_ is doomed to die within the +year. + +The seer went off soon after this, and then, when the other +well-wishers came, the gloom that he had left behind him was +dispelled, and the remainder of the Christmas Day was spent in mirth +and jollity. + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +NEW YEAR'S DAY + + +On the last day of the year the _pobratim_ were sailing on the waters +of the Adriatic not far from the island of Lissa, now famed in +history for its naval wars. Soon the sun went down behind a huge mass +of grey clouds, and night set in when the vessel was about to sail +amidst that maze of inlets, straits, channels and friths, which +characterise all that part of the Dalmatian coast. But, though the +night was dark and wild, their schooner was strong and stout, and +accustomed to weather such heavy seas. + +A head-wind arose, which first began to shiver amidst the rigging +like a human being sick of a fever; then it changed into a slight +wailing sound, so that it seemed at times the voice of a suffering +child tossing about in its cot unable to find rest. The wind +increased, and the sound changed into a howl like the rage of untamed +beasts; it was a horrible concert, where serpents hissed, wild cats +mewed and lions roared in and out of time and tune; but not without a +strange, weird, uncouth harmony. It was the voice of the storm. Great +Adamastor, the genius of the foul weather, baffled at not being able +to snap all the ropes asunder and break down the straining masts, was +yelling with impotent rage. He was, withal, a cunning old man and +knew more than one trick, for, after holding his breath for a while, +he would whisper no louder than a mother does when her babe is +asleep, and then again, he would begin to snicker slily in a low, +snorting way, until, all at once, he broke loose into loud fits of +fiendish, hoarse merriment. + +Added to this head-wind, a heavy sea rolled its huge waves against +the prow of the ship and dashed the spray of its breakers up its very +sails; then the strong rain would come down in showers at every gust +of wind. The elements seemed, indeed, bent upon overwhelming the poor +craft groaning at this ill-treatment. + +Eleven o'clock having just struck, Uros went below and Milenko got +ready to take up his watch. + +Poor Uros! he was not only weary and wet to the skin--for his huge +_kabanica_, or overcoat, had been of little avail against the pelting +rain--but, worse than that, for the first time in his life he felt +home-sick and love-sick. He remembered the pleasant Christmas Eve, +the last night but one which he had passed at home. Whilst the wind +howled and the waves rolled high he recalled to mind the many +incidents of that evening, which had been for him the happiest of his +life, and there, in the darkness of the night, Milena's bright and +laughing eyes were always twinkling before him. Her sweet looks, +which he had drunk down like intoxicating wine, had maddened his +brain. + +Hitherto Uros had been passionately fond of the sea, and his great +ambition was to be one day the master of a ship. Now that his dream +seemed about to be realised even beyond his wildest ambition--for the +brig was really a fine ship--his heart was far behind on shore, and +the sea had lost its charm. That night especially he wished he could +have been back by his own fireside watching the remainder of the +yule-logs as they burnt away into cinders. + +When Uros came down, the captain brought out a bottle of some rare +old genuine cognac, which on some former voyage he himself had got at +Bordeaux. Punch was made, Milenko was called down and toasts were +drunk to the health of the absent ones, songs were sung about the +pleasantness of a life upon the wide, wide sea; but the voice of the +waves seemed to jeer them, and then the captain fell a-thinking that +he was growing of an age when it was far more agreeable to remain +amidst his little brood at home. As for poor Uros, he thought of the +woman who lived in a lonely cottage, and he wondered whether harm +might not befal her, now that he was no more there to watch over her. +He thought that, after all, it was useless to go roaming about the +world when he might remain at home tilling his father's fields. +Milenko alone was of a cheerful mood; perhaps it was because he +thought less of himself and more of those around him. + +Milenko came and went up and down like a squirrel, keeping his watch +and trying to cheer his friend. Still, each time he went up and +looked about, he found that the wind was stronger and the waves +rolled higher. Meanwhile the captain, roused to a sense of duty, +tried to enliven the passing hours by telling old tales, comical +adventures, and strange sea legends. + +Soon the storm increased apace, and Milenko had to remain on deck; +but Uros, being tired and sleepy, was about to betake himself to +rest. Midnight had just struck, and the hands of the clock were on +twelve, a last cup was drained, and the three seamen having thus seen +the old year out and the new year in, separated and each one went his +own way. The clock withal was rather fast, and it was only some +moments after they had separated from one another that the old year +breathed its last. + +Before going to rest, Uros, who had slightly bruised his forehead +just where Vranic had cut him with the stone, went to his chest and +took out of it a small round tin looking-glass and opened it. He +wished to see what kind of a scratch it had left, and if the scar +were healing. He had scarcely cast his eyes upon it when, to his +great surprise, lo, and behold! far from seeing his own face in the +glass, Vranic's likeness was there, staring upon him with his usual +leer! + +Uros was startled at this sight; then, for a while he stood as if +transfixed, gloating on the image within the glass, unable to turn +away his eyes from it. Then, appalled as he was, he almost dropped +the looking-glass he was holding. + +All at once remembering that it was midnight--the moment when the old +year passes into oblivion and the new one rises from chaos--his hand +fell, and he stood for a while, pale, shuddering, and staring upon +vacancy. But--recalled to himself--he endeavoured to retrace the long +string of thoughts that had flitted through his brain, since he had +left the captain and Milenko up to the moment that he had looked upon +the glass, and Vranic was not amongst them. His brain had been +rather muddled by sleepiness and brandy, and he had hardly been +thinking about anything. + +Having lifted up the glass to the height of his face, he for a moment +held his head averted, for he had really not the courage to look upon +it. + +After a while he shrugged his shoulders, muttering to himself: "I +have always been thinking of Milena, and of the last days I passed at +home, so that now this man's face--such as I had seen it on Christmas +morning--has been impressively recalled to my mind. It must be this +and nothing more." + +Still, the moment when he tried again to look upon the glass, a vague +terror came over him, and all his courage passed away; it was just as +if he were looking upon some unhallowed thing, as if he were +indulging in witchcraft. But curiosity prevailed once more, and as he +did so, a trepidation came all over his limbs. This time he was +surely not mistaken; it was no vision of his overheated fancy, seen +with his mind's eye; sleepiness and the effect of the brandy had +quite passed away, and still the glass--instead of reflecting his own +features--was the living portrait of the man he hated. There he was, +with his low forehead, his livid complexion, his pale greyish-green +eyes, his high cheekbones and his flat nose. + +He was almost impelled to dash down the glass and break it into +pieces, but still he durst not do it; a superstitious fear stopped +him; it was, as we all know, so very unlucky to break a +looking-glass by accident, but to break it of his own free will must +be far worse. + +He now kept his eyes riveted upon the tiny mirror, and then he saw +Vranic's face slightly fade and then vanish away; then the glass for +a few seconds grew dim as if a damp breath had passed upon it; then +the dimness disappeared little by little, the glass again grew clear +and reflected his own pale face, with his eyes wildly opened, +glistening with a wild, feverish look. Now, he was not mistaken; +Vranic was not to see another year! + +Uros had often heard it said that, if a young unmarried man looks by +chance in a looking-glass at the stroke of twelve, just when the old +year is dying out, he will perhaps see, either the woman he is to +marry in the course of the year, Death, or a man of his acquaintance +doomed to die within the year. He had never tried it, because it is a +thing that has to be done by chance, and even then the mirror does +not always foretell the future. Now, the thing happened so naturally, +in such an unforeseen, unpremeditated way, that there was no +possibility of a doubt. Vranic, then, was doomed to die. + +A week before, his death had been predicted the moment when he +stumbled and slipped over the stump of the yule-log--aye, it was his +own log--now again his enemy's death was foretold to him. + +As he stood there with his glass in his hand, a thought struck him, +and in answer to this, he lifted his eyes upwards and begged his +patron saint to keep his hands clean, and not to make him the +instrument of his enemy's death. + +"He is a villain," muttered he to himself, "and he fully deserves a +thousand deaths; but let him not die by my hand. If he dies of a +violent death, let me not be his executioner." + +Uros stood there for some time as if bewildered and very much like a +man who had seen a ghost, afraid to look round lest he should see +Vranic's face gloating upon him; then shuddering, he ran upstairs to +tell his adoptive brother all that had happened, and the strange +vision he had seen. + +When Uros went up on deck, he found that the wind had greatly +increased, and that from a cap-full, as it had been in the beginning, +it had grown into a hurricane. The sky was even darker than before; +the waves, swollen into huge breakers, dashed against the prow of the +ship, making her stagger and reel as if she had been stunned by those +mighty blows. + +The captain had now taken command of the ship, for all that part of +the Adriatic up to the Quarnero, with its archipelago of islands, its +numerous straits, its friths and rock-bound inlets, where the +mountains of the mainland--sloping down to the water's edge--end in +long ledges and chasms all interspersed with sharp ridges, rocks and +sunken reefs, through which the ships have often to wind carefully in +and out, is like a perilous maze. The navigation of these parts, +difficult enough in the day-time by fair weather, is more than +dangerous on a dark and stormy night. + +The ship, according to all calculation, had passed the Punta della +Planca, and was not very far from the port of Sebenico. It was +useless to try and take shelter there, for the town is most difficult +of access, especially during contrary winds. + +All that night the whole crew were on deck obeying the captain's +orders, for it was as much as they could do to manage the ship, at +war with all the elements; besides, as she rode forecastle in, she +had shipped several seas, so that, deeply-laden as she was, she +wallowed heavily about, and looked every moment as if she were ready +to founder. + +The storm had now risen to the highest pitch, and the captain, who, +as it has been said, was an elderly man, as well as an experienced +sailor, acknowledged that he scarcely remembered a more fearful gale +in the whole of his lifetime. All waited eagerly for the first +streaks of dawn; for a tempest, though frightful in broad daylight, +is always more appalling in the dead of the night. They waited a long +time, for it seemed as if darkness had set for ever over this world. + +At last a faint grey, glimmering light appeared in the east; then, by +degrees, towards daybreak, the waters overhead, and the waters +underneath, had a gloomy, greyish hue. Light spread itself far and +wide, but the storm did not abate. + +Milenko, with his spy-glass in his hand, was searching through the +veil of mist that surrounded the ship, for some island in the offing, +when, all at once, he thought he could perceive a dark speck not very +far off. This object, apparently cradled by the waters, was so dimly +seen that he could not even guess what it was; but after keeping his +eyes steadily upon it, he saw, or rather, he thought he saw, the hull +or wreck of a ship, or a buoy. No, surely it could not be a buoy +floating there in the midst of the waters. Was it not, perhaps, some +foam-covered rock against which the waves were dashing? His eyes were +rooted upon it for some time, and then he was certain that it was not +a rock, for it moved, nay, it seemed to float about. He pondered for +a while. Could it not be, he thought, the head of one of those huge +sea-snakes, upon which ships, having sometimes cast their anchors, +are dragged down into the fathomless abysses of the deep, there to +become the prey of this horrible monster? It was really too far off +for him to understand what it was. + +He waited for some time, then he strained his eyes, and he saw that +it could be nothing but a boat. He called Uros to him, but his +friend's sight being less keen than his own, he could make nothing of +it. The captain, having come to them, could not distinguish the +floating object at all. As they steered onwards, they came nearer to +it, and then they found out that it was indeed the hull of a caique +or galley-boat, which, having lost its masts and rudder, was tossed +about at the mercy of the breakers, that always seemed ready to +swallow it up. The crew on board were making signs of distress, but +it was a rather difficult task to lend a helping hand to that crazy +ship. It was impossible, with that heavy sea, for the brig to go +alongside of her, or to lie near enough for her crew to manage to get +on board. Nay, it was very dangerous for the brig to attempt going +anywhere near the caique, for the consequences might have been +disastrous if the wreck were thrown against her, as the stronger one +of the two would thus have dashed the weaker vessel to pieces. + +In this predicament Milenko volunteered to go in a little boat, if +any two men would go with him. At first all refused, but when Uros +said that he was ready to share his friend's fate, another sailor +came forth to lend a helping hand in rescuing those lives in fearful +jeopardy. + +The _pobratim_ having skilfully managed to get near enough to the +caique, so as to be understood, they called out to the captain to +throw them a rope overboard. This was done, but the hawser, without a +buoy, could hardly be got at; it was, therefore, pulled back, a +broken spar was tied at its end, and then it was again cast +overboard. + +After a full half-hour's hard work, Milenko and his mates managed to +get to the floating hawser and to haul it up; then they rowed lustily +back to the ship with it. The caique was then tugged close to the +brig's stern, which steered towards the land as well as she could. + +The poor bark, shorn of her masts, was in a wretched state, and one +of her men having gone down in the hold to see how much water there +was in her, found that she had sprung a leak and that she was filling +fast, notwithstanding all the exertions of the men at the pump. + +Though the storm had somewhat abated, still the caique was now +sinking, so that it was beyond all possibility to reach the shore in +time to save her. The two friends again got into the boat, and went +once more beside the wreck. This time they managed to get near enough +to save the crew and the few passengers they had. When all were on +board, then this little boat, heavily laden with human lives, was +rowed back to the brig. After this, the rope which bound the caique +was cut off, and she was left to drift away at the mercy of the +waves, and, little by little, sink out of sight. + +The first person that Milenko had got into the little boat, and who +he now helped on board the brig, was a young girl of about sixteen, +but who, like the women of her country, looked rather older than she +was. After her came her father and her mother, who were passengers on +board of the caique; they had come from Scio, and were bound for +Nona, a small town near Zara. The young girl had, throughout the +storm, shown an extraordinary courage; nay, she had been a helpmate +rather than an encumbrance. But when she saw herself safe on board +the _Spera in Dio_ (Hope in God)--for this was the brig's name--then +her strength failed her all at once, and she sank into a deep swoon. +Milenko, who had helped her on board, and who was standing by her, +caught her up in his arms, carried her downstairs and laid her upon +his bed. + +Milenko had hitherto never cared for any woman; but now, as he +carried this lifeless body, and he saw this pale, wan, childlike face +leaning on his shoulder, he felt a strange unknown flutter somewhere +about his heart. Then the sense of his own manhood came over him; he +knew himself strong, and he was glad to be able to shelter this frail +being within his brawny arms. + +Having rescued this girl from the jaws of death, she seemed to be his +own, and his bosom heaved with a feeling quite new to him. He would +have liked to have gone through life with this weak creature clinging +to him for strength, just as a mother would fain have her babe ever +nestling on her bosom. Now, having to relinquish her, he was glad to +lay her upon his own bed, for thus she still seemed to belong to him. + +Her mother was at once by her side, her father and the captain soon +followed, and all the care their rough hospitality could afford was +lavished upon her. As the fainting-fit had been brought on through +long fasting, as well as by a strain of the nerves, a spoonful of the +captain's rare cognac had the desired effect of recalling her to +life. + +Coming to herself, she was astonished at seeing so many sunburnt, +weather-beaten, unknown faces around her; she looked at them all, +from one to the other, but Milenko's deep blue eyes, wistfully +gloating upon her own, attracted her attention. She had seen him in +the boat when he came to their rescue, he had helped her on board; +and now, after that fainting-fit, which seemed to have stopped the +march of time for a while, she fancied she had known him long ago. +She looked first at him, then at her mother; then again at him. After +this, feeling as if she was quite safe as long as her mother and that +unknown young man--who still was no stranger--stood watching over +her, her heavy eyelids drooped, and she fell into a light slumber. + +The captain having persuaded the mother to take some rest, all went +to attend to their duties; still, Milenko softly crept down every now +and then to see if the women wanted anything, and to have a sly look +at the young girl sleeping in his bed. As he stood there gazing upon +her, he was conscious that his senses had grown more mellow--that +life henceforth had an aim. This was the dawn of real love in a +strong man's breast. Whilst he was looking at her, the young girl +woke from her slumbers; she opened her eyes, and her glances fell +again upon him. + +"Where am I?" she said, half-frightened. Then, recognising the young +man, she added: "Yes, I know, you saved my life when I was drowning." + +The mother, hearing her daughter speak, yawned, stretched out her +arms and woke. + +The storm had now abated. The dark clouds were quickly flitting, and +the sun, which had risen upon that first day of the year, was now +shining in all its splendour on the broad expanse of the blue waters +and upon the huge crested waves; and the sight was as exhilarating as +it was delightful. + +The poor wrecked family having gathered together on deck, breakfast +was got ready, and all sat down to the frugal meal which the ship's +provisions afforded. + +When the breakfast was over, the father of the young girl--who had +been questioned several times as to the place from where he was +coming, to the port whither he was bound, his occupation, and so +forth--related to his hosts the story of his adventures, which can be +abridged as follows: + +"My name is Giulianic. Our family, though Slav and Orthodox, is said +to have been of Italian origin, and that the name, years ago, was +Giuliani. Still, I cannot swear as to the truth of this assertion. My +father in his first youth had gone to the Levant, and had settled at +Chios. He was a coppersmith; and, as far as I can remember, he was +very prosperous. He had a large and well-furnished shop, and employed +a good many workmen. + +"I was the eldest of the family; after me there came a girl, who, +happily for herself, died when she was yet quite a baby, and before +trouble befel us; for had she been spared, she doubtless would have +ended her life in some harem, if not in a worse way, losing thus both +soul and body. After her came two boys; so that between myself and +my youngest brother there was a difference of about ten years, if not +more. I was, therefore, the only child of our family who knew the +blessing of a happy boyhood, for my early years, spent either in my +father's shop or in our country-house, were passed in bliss; but +alas! that time is so far off that its remembrance is only like a +dream. + +"When I was about ten or twelve years--I cannot say exactly how old I +was, as all the registers have been destroyed--a terrible revolution +took place. It was, I remember, an awful time, when Christian blood +ran in streams through the streets of towns and villages, when houses +were burnt down, and the whole island remained a mass of smouldering +ruins. + +"My father was, if I am not mistaken, the first victim of that bloody +fray; like all men of pluck, and indeed like most men of no pluck at +all, he was butchered by the Turks. My mother----" + +There was a pause. A tear glistened in the corner of the old man's +eye, then it rolled down his wrinkled cheek and disappeared in the +long, bristling white moustache; his voice faltered. Though more than +half a century had passed since that dreadful day, still he could +hardly speak about it. After a moment he added, drily: + +"My mother fell into the hands of those dogs. I was separated from my +brothers. The youngest, as I was told, was taken by those fiends. He +was a bright, handsome boy; they made a Turk of him. My other brother +disappeared; for days I sought him everywhere, but I could not find +him. + +"Before I go on with the story of my life, I must tell you that all +the men in the Giulianic family have, since immemorial times, a +bright red stain, like a small drop of blood, on the nape of the +neck, just about where the collar-bone is bound to the skull. Its +peculiarity is that its colour increases and decreases with the lunar +phases. Besides this, my father in those troubled times, foreseeing +that the day might come when we should be snatched from him, caused a +little Greek Cross to be tattooed upon us." + +Here, suiting the action to the words, he bared his left breast and +showed us the holy sign just near the place where the heart is seen +to throb. + +"Thus, to resume the story of my life, when I was hardly twelve I +found myself an orphan, alone and penniless. The night of that +dreadful day I went to cry by the smouldering ruins of our house, +looking if I could at least find the mangled remains of that father +whom I loved so dearly. When morning came, I knew that I was not only +turned adrift upon this wide world, but that I had to flee, whither I +knew not. I lurked about in all kinds of hiding-places, and when I +crawled out I always seemed to hear the steps and the voices of those +bloodthirsty murderers. The falling leaf, the sudden flight of a +locust, the chirrup of an insect filled me with terror, and indeed +more than once, hidden within a bush or crouching behind a stone, I +saw the tall _zeibeks_, those fierce-looking mountaineers, the +scourge of the country far around, in search of prey. For days I +managed to live, I really do not know how, but principally on +oranges, I think. One day, being on the strand and seeing a vessel +riding at anchor at some distance, I swam up to it. The captain, who +was a Dalmatian, took pity on me, and brought me to Zara, whither his +ship was bound. From that time I managed to drag on through life; +still, I should not have been unhappy had I been able to forget. + +"After several years of hard struggle, I at last went to Mostar; +there fate, tired of persecuting me, began to be more favourable. I +was prosperous in all my undertakings; I married; then my +restlessness began to wear away, I thought I had settled down for +life. Had I only been able to find out something about my lost +brothers, I do not think anything more would have been wanting to my +happiness. + +"Years passed, aye, a good many years since those terrible days which +had blighted my childhood, for my eldest child, who died soon +afterwards, was then about the age I had been when I was bereft of +kith and kin. It happened that one day--stop, it was on Easter +Monday--I was having a picnic with some friends at a farm belonging +to my wife's father. We were sauntering in the fields, enjoying the +beauty of the country, which at that time was in all its bloom, when +looking down from a height upon the road beneath, we saw a cloud of +dust. We stopped to look, and we perceived at a few yards from us, +two or three panting men evidently running for their lives. + +"They were all armed, not only with daggers and pistols, but also +with long muskets. At twenty paces behind them came half-a-dozen +_zaptiehs_, or guards. + +"The highwaymen, for such they seemed to us, evidently tired out, +were losing ground at every step, and the Turks were about to +overtake them. All at once the robbers reached a corner of the road, +just under the hill on which we were standing; there the foremost man +amongst them stopped, and after bidding the others to be off, he put +his musket to his shoulder. When the _zaptiehs_ came nearer, he +called to them to turn back if they cared for their lives. There was +a moment of indecision amongst the guards; each one looked upon his +neighbour, wondering what he would do, when the one who seemed to be +their officer took out his pistol and pointed it at the highwayman, +calling to him to give up. For all reply, the robber took a +deliberate aim at the Turk. Both men fired at once. The guards, +astonished, stood back for a trice. The Turk fell, the highwayman +remained unhurt; thereupon he laid by his gun and took out a +revolver. The guards came up and fired off their weapons; the robber +fell, apparently shot through by many balls. + +"The _zaptiehs_ stopped for a moment to look at their companion; they +undid his clothes. Life was already extinct; the highwayman's bullet +had struck him above the left breast, and, taking a downward course, +it had pierced the heart. Death must have been instantaneous. By the +signs of grief given to him, the man must have been admired and +beloved by his companions; but their sorrow seemed all at once to +melt into hatred and a thirst for revenge, so that they all rose and +ran after the two fugitives, evidently hoping to overtake them. + +"I can hardly describe the feelings that arose in my breast at that +sight; it was the first time in my life that I had beheld the corpse +of a Turk, not only without any feeling of exultation, but even with +a sense of deep pity. + +"'He was a brave man,' said I to my friends; 'therefore he must have +been a good man.' + +"As soon as the _zaptiehs_ were out of sight, we ran down to see the +two men, and ascertain if life were quite extinct in them. + +"I went up to the Turkish guard. I lifted up his lifeless head, and, +as I did so, my heart was filled with love and sorrow. He was a +stalwart, handsome man, in the flower of his years. + +"'Is he quite dead?' I asked myself; 'is he not, perhaps, only +wounded?' + +"I opened his vest to look at the wound, and as I laid his chest +bare, there, to my astonishment, grief and dismay, below the left +breast, pricked in tiny blue dots, was the sign of the holy Cross +--the Greek Cross, like the one which had been tattooed on my own +flesh. + +"I felt faint as I beheld it; my eyes grew dim, my hands fell +lifeless. Was this man one of my long-lost brothers? + +"My strength returned; with feverish hands I sought the mark on the +nape of the neck. It was full-moon; therefore the stain was not only +visible, but as red as the blood which flowed from his wounds. + +"A feeling of faintness came over me again; I knew that I was deadly +pale. I uttered a cry as I pressed the lifeless head to my heart. + +"This man, no doubt, was my youngest brother, whom those hell-hounds +had snatched away from our mother's breast upon that dreadful day, +and--cursed be their race for ever--they had made a Turkish guard of +him. + +"His head was lying upon my lap; I bowed upon it and covered it with +kisses. + +"My wife and all my friends, seeing me act in such a strange way, +unable to understand my overwhelming anguish, thought that I had been +all at once struck with madness. + +"'What is the matter?' said my wife, looking at me with awe-struck +eyes. + +"I could hardly speak. All I could do was to point with my finger at +the sign of the Cross on the _zaptieh_'s breast. + +"'Can it be possible? Is it your brother?' + +"I mournfully nodded assent. Then, after a few moments, I added that +I had also found the family sign on the nape of this man's neck. + +"In the meantime help was given to the highwayman, who, +notwithstanding his wounds, was not quite dead, though he had fallen +into a death-like swoon. My father-in-law was vainly endeavouring to +bring him back to life, whilst I was lavishing my sorrow and caresses +upon the man I had so longed to see. + +"'Let us take him away from here,' said I, trying to lift him up; 'he +shall not be touched by those dogs. Christian burial is to be given +him; he must lie in consecrated ground.' + +"'But,' said my father-in-law---- + +"'There are no "buts." They have had his body in his lifetime; they +shall not have it after his death. Besides, his soul will have no +rest, thinking that its earthly shell lies festering unhallowed. No; +even if I am to lose my head, they shall not put a finger upon him.' + +"Instead of giving me an answer, my father-in-law uttered a kind of +stifled cry of astonishment. My wife, who was by his side, shrieked +out, looked wildly at me, and then lifted both her hands to her head, +with horror and amazement. + +"What had happened? + +"I looked round. The highwayman, the man who had shot my brother +through the heart, was coming back to life; he was panting for +breath. I looked at him. He opened his eyes. A shudder came over me. +There was a strange likeness between the murderer and the murdered +man. Perhaps it was because the one was dying and the other was dead. + +"My father-in-law, my wife and my friends looked at the robber, then +at me; awe, dread, sorrow was seen in all their eyes. + +"I looked again at the highwayman. He had moved a little; his +_jacerma_ was loosened, his shirt was torn open, his breast was all +bare. + +"Horror! There, under the left breast, I saw the sign of the Greek +Cross. + +"For a moment I remained stunned, hardly knowing whether I was in my +senses or if I was mad. + +"A feeling of overpowering fear came upon me; it seemed as if I were +in the midst of a mighty whirlwind. For the first time in my life I +beheld the sign of the holy Cross with horror and dismay. + +"I lifted my hands up towards heaven in earnest supplication. + +"A religious man prays, perhaps, two or three times a day; still, +those are lip-prayers. Few men pray from the innermost depths of +their hearts more than ten times during their life, and that, indeed, +is much. At that moment my very soul seemed to be upheaved towards +heaven with the words that came from my mouth. I entreated the +All-wise Creator of heaven and earth that this _heyduke_ might be no +kith and kin to me, that his blood-stained hands might not be +polluted with a brother's murder. + +"During these few instants, my friends had gently lifted the dying +man from the ground, and then they had sought for the family sign on +the highwayman's neck. Like my brother's and mine, that stain was +there, of a blood-red hue. + +"I left the body where life was extinct to tend the one where a spark +of life was yet lingering. Slowly and carefully we had the bodies +transported to my father-in-law's house. + +"The Turkish guards on their pursuit of the robbers did not, on their +return, come back the same way. On the morrow a search was made for +their officer's body and for that of the highwayman, but, not finding +them, they came to the conclusion that they had been devoured by wild +beasts. + +"With great difficulty, and with much bribing (for, as you yourselves +know, even our own priests are fond of _backseesh_) my dead brother +was laid low in our churchyard, and Masses were said on his earthly +remains. The wounded man lingered on for some days, between life and +death, and during all that time I was always by his bedside. He was +delirious, and by his ravings I understood that he hated the Turks as +much as I did, for he was always fighting against them. We called a +skilful surgeon of the Austrian army, who, though he gave us but +little hope, managed to snatch him from the jaws of death. + +"His convalescence was very slow, but health kept creeping back. When +he was quite out of danger I questioned him about his youth, his +early manhood, and the circumstances that urged him to take to the +daring life of a _klefte_. Thereupon he related all the vicissitudes +of his good and bad fortune, which I shall resume as follows: + +"'I was born at Chios; therefore, though I am of Slav origin and I am +called Giulianic, I am known throughout all Turkey as the Chiot. You +yourself must have heard of me. I remember but little of my family. +My life begins with a terrible date--that of the massacre of the +Christians in my native island. Upon that day I lost my father, my +mother and two of my brothers. Left alone, I was saved by a rich +Greek landowner. He had friends amongst the Turks, and was, +therefore, spared when almost all our fellow-countrymen were +butchered. This gentleman, who had several girls and no boy, treated +me like his own son; and when I reached early manhood, I was engaged +to my adopted father's eldest daughter. Those were the happiest days +of my life, and I should have been far happier still, had my soul not +been parched by an almost irresistible desire for vengeance. + +"'The day of my wedding had already been fixed, when an imprudent +person happened to point out to me the man who had done us a grievous +wrong--the man who had torn our baby brother from my mother's breast, +the man whom I hated even more and worse than those who had killed my +father. Well, as you can well understand, I slew that man. Put +yourself in my place, and tell me if you would not have done the +same? + +"'After that deed it was useless to think of marrying. I fled from +Chios; I went to Smyrna. There I put myself at the head of a gang of +robbers. + +"'My life from that day was that of many _heydukes_; that is to say, +we got by sheer strength what most people get by craft--our daily +bread and very few of the superfluities of life. One thing I can say: +it is that neither I nor any of my men ever spilt a single drop of +Christian blood. It is true that I was the bane of the Turks, and I +never spared them any more than they had spared us. I was beloved by +the poor, with whom I often shared my bread; treated with +consideration by the rich, who preferred having me as their friend +rather than as their enemy; regularly absolved by the Church, whose +feasts and fasts I always kept. I was only dreaded by the Turks, who +set a very great price upon my head. Thus I got to be in some years a +rich and powerful man. I left Asia Minor and passed into Europe, and +then, feeling that I was growing old, I was about to retire from my +trade, when--when you saved my life.' + +"'And now,' I asked him, 'what are you going to do?' + +"'What! That, indeed, is more than I know.' + +"He remained musing for some time, and then he added: + +"'When a man is without any ties, when he has drunk deep the free +mountain air, when the woods have been his dwelling-place and the +starry heaven his roof, when he has lived the lawless life of a +_heyduke_, can he think of cooping himself up within the narrow walls +of a house and live the life of other men?' + +"He stopped for a while, as if lost in his thoughts, and then he +added: + +"'The girl I loved is married; my brothers whom I hoped to meet +again, and for whom I had bought the ground our family once owned at +Chios, are for ever lost to me--doubtless, they perished upon that +dreadful day--therefore, why should I live to drag on a life which +henceforth will be wearisome to me?' + +"'Well, then, what will you do?' + +"'There is, perhaps, more work at Chios for me; I might find out the +men who murdered my father----' + +"'No, no; there is enough of blood upon your hands.' + +"'I thought you were a Slav; as such you must know that the men of +our nation never forgive.' + +"'Listen; if you should happen to meet one of your brothers, if, like +you, he were well off, would you not look upon his home as your own, +his children--whom you might love without knowing--as your children?' + +"'I should love and cherish him, indeed; I should give him the lands +I bought for him at Chios. But, alas! what is the use of speaking +about such a thing? It is only a dream, so listen: no man, hitherto, +has loved me for my own sake, so as to risk his own life for me, as +you have done, though, indeed, I have met with great kindness during +the whole of my lifetime, and have had a great many friends. Well, +then, will you be my brother?' + +"'If I consented, would you remain with me, share my heart and my +home?' + +"'For ever?' + +"'For our whole life.' + +"'No, do not ask me that.' + +"'But should you find your brother after these many years, how would +you know him?' + +"'We have each a Cross tattooed on our left breast, as you, perhaps, +have seen----' + +"'Besides this, a vanishing sign on the nape of the neck,' said I, +interrupting him. + +"'How do you know? Have you ever met?--or perhaps you----' + +"For all answer I opened my vest and showed him the sign of the Greek +Cross. His delight upon knowing me to be his brother knew no bounds. +He threw his arms round my neck, kissed me, and, for the first time +in his life, he cried like a child. + +"Time passed. He recovered his strength, but with it his +restlessness, and his craving for revenge. We soon removed from +Mostar to Ragusa, on account of his safety, and then I hoped that the +change of scenery would quiet him. Alas! this larger town was but a +more spacious prison. From Ragusa we went to Zara, and from there to +Nona, for Ragusa itself was too near Turkey. The change quieted him +for a short time; but his roving disposition soon returned, and then +he talked of going to Chios. One day, seeing that he was about to put +his words into execution, and feeling that I could not keep him with +me any longer, I told him who the Turkish _zaptieh_, against whom he +had fired, really was, and what blood was the last he had spilt. + +"The blow was a terrible one; for days he seemed to be stunned by it. +Little by little, however, it changed the current of his thoughts. He +shortly afterwards gave up to the Church his ill-gotten wealth, +except the Chios estate, of which he had made me a gift. Then he +became a _caloyer_, or Greek monk, and once a year he went on a +pilgrimage to Mostar, to pray upon my brother's tomb. From sinner he +turned saint; but he pined like a wild bird in a cage. He lingered +for some time and then he died at Mostar, where he was buried by the +side of the _zaptieh_ whom he had killed. + +"We had now been to Chios to look after our vineyards and our orange +groves; but I must say that this island, where I was born, is no home +for me. I have lived away from it the whole of my lifetime, and the +remembrances which it brings back to my mind are anything but +pleasant. We were on our way to Nona, and had almost reached the goal +of our voyage when that dreadful storm overtook us, and had it not +been for your kindness and bravery we should all have been lost." + +Evening had set in when Giulianic finished the story of his life, +just when the walls of Zara were in sight; but as it was too late to +land, we spent New Year's night on board the _Spera in Dio_. + + + + +CHAPTER V + +DUCK SHOOTING AT NONA + + +The weather was clear and bright on the second day of the year. The +sea was not only calm, but of the most beautiful turquoise blue, not +the slightest cloud was to be seen in the sky, and the sun's rays +were as sparkling and as warm as if it had been a glowing day in the +latter part of April instead of early January. Nature looked +refreshed and coquettishly radiant; her beauty was enhanced by the +storm of the day before. + +The red-tiled roofs of the higher houses, such as convents and public +buildings, the domes and spires of churches, peeped slily over the +town walls of Zara, and the brig, the _Spera in Dio_, which that +morning lay at anchor by the wharf opposite the principal gate, the +Porta San Grisogono, or Porta del Mare, as it is also called. + +On the pier, along the wharf, on the strand, and within the narrow +street, a motley crowd is to be seen; everyone is gaily decked out in +festive apparel; this sight is one that would have rejoiced a +painter, for few towns present such a variety of dresses as Zara. +There were fair _Morlacchi_ in white woollen clothes, their trousers +fitting them like tights, with their reddish hair plaited into a +little pig-tail; tall and swarthy, long-moustachioed _pandours_, +handsome warlike men, that any stranger might mistake for Turks, +their coats laced and waistcoats covered with silver buttons, bugles +and large coins, glittering in the sunshine, that make them look, at +a distance, as if dressed in armour; then there were peasants, whose +cottages are built on the neighbouring reefs, clad in tight blue +trousers, trimmed in red, red waistcoats laced in yellow, and brown +jackets embroidered in various colours; country girls in green +dresses, red stockings and yellow shoes. These men and women all wear +shirts and chemises prettily stitched and worked in all possible +colours of silks and cottons. Some of these embroideries of flowers +and arabesques are of the richest dyes, and the cherry-red is mingled +with ultramarine blue and leek-green; they are sometimes interwoven +with shells or tinsel; their stockings and leggings are bits of +gorgeous tapestry, whilst the women's aprons are like Eastern +carpets. As for the jewellery, it varies from rows of arangoes to +massive gold beads studded with pearls and other precious stones, +similar to those which the Murano manufactories have artistically +imitated. + +Amongst these peasants are to be seen tall, stately white friars, +portly grey friars, and stout and snuffy-brown friars; priests in +rusty black, priests in fine broadcloth, with violet stockings and +shoes with silver buckles, priests of high and priests of low degree. +Then Austrian officers in white jackets, Croat soldiers in tight +trousers, Hungarians in laced tunics. Lastly, a few civilians, who +are very much out of place in their ungainly, antiquated clothes. + +On the morrow, it was found that the _Spera in Dio_ had been much +damaged by the late storm, and that it was impossible for her to sail +without being thoroughly repaired. The little ship-yard of Zara was +too busy just then to undertake the work, so Giulianic persuaded the +captain to proceed onwards as far as Nona, where he could get +shipwrights to work for him. Therefore, two days after their arrival +at Zara, they set sail for Nona, together with their shipwrecked +guests. The captain and his two mates had now become intimate friends +with Giulianic and his family, who did their utmost to try and +entertain the young men. + +Nona, however, offers but few amusements, nay, hardly any, excepting +hunting; still, Giulianic being a great sportsman, a shooting party +was arranged on the brackish lake of Nona, which at that time of the +year abounds in coots, wild ducks, and other migratory birds. + +Milenko, though fond of this sport, vainly tried to stay on board, +thinking that an hour in Ivanika Giulianic's company was better than +a whole day's shooting on the lake; but all the paltry excuses he +gave for staying behind were speedily overcome, so he had to yield to +Uros and the captain, and go with them. + +The lake of Nona, which is just outside the old battlemented walls of +the town, is about a mile in length: its waters are always rather +salty, on account of two canals which at high tide communicate with +the sea. + +The little party, composed of the captain, his two mates, Giulianic +and some other friends of his, started for the lake about an hour +before sunrise; and towards dawn they all got into the canoes that +were there waiting for them, as every hunter had a little boat and an +oarsman at his disposal. + +They left the shores on different sides, and noiselessly glided +towards the place where the coots had gathered for the night, +surrounding them on every side, so as to cut away from them every +means of escape. + +When they had reached the goal, the signal for beginning the attack +was given, a musket being fired from off the shore. That loud noise, +midst the stillness of early dawn, startled the poor birds from their +peaceful slumbers; they at once foolishly rise, fly and flutter about +in all directions, but without soaring to any great height. The +slaughter now begins. Soon the birds get over their first fright, and +the hunters not to scare them away, leave them a few moments' +respite; the coots then seem loath to abandon such a rich pasture and +turn back to their sedges. Therefore they see the boats appear on +every side and hedge them within a narrow circle. They are once more +on the wing, ready to fly away. Greed again prevails over fear; the +birds gather together, but do not make their escape. Pressed closer +by the hunters they at last rise all in a flock. It is too late; +death reaches them on every side. All at once, amidst the smoke and +the noise, they make a bold attempt to cross the enemy's line, but +only do so in the greatest confusion, flying hither and thither, +helter-skelter, the one butting against the other, and thus they all +kept falling a prey to the keen-eyed, quick-handed sportsmen. + +At first the shores of the lake are but dimly seen through the thick +veil of mist arising from the smooth surface of the rippleless +waters, as from a huge brewing-pan, and everything is of a cold +greyish hue, fleecy on the shore. But now the sun has appeared like a +burnished disc of copper amidst a golden halo; soon all the mist +vanishes beneath his warm rays. The mellow morning light falls upon +the numberless feathered carcasses that dye the waters of the +stagnant mere. + +The pulse of every sportsman flutters with excitement; despair has +given courage to the birds, which rise much higher than before, and +are making heroic efforts to break through the lines. Soon the flurry +that had prevailed amongst the birds, falls to the lot of the +sportsmen; they give orders and counter orders to the oarsmen, and +the circle of boats has become an entangled maze. + +The lake now resounds, not so much with firing as with shouts of +merriment and peals of laughter, sometimes because one of the boats +has butted against the other, and one of the hunters has lost his +balance and got a ducking. The morning being now far advanced, the +sportsmen gather together for breakfast, leaving time to the birds to +get over their bewildered state and settle quietly again in a flock +round about their resting-place. + +In an hour's time the shooting begins again, but the head is not so +light, the sight so keen, nor the hand so quick as before breakfast; +nay, it happened at times that the captain saw two coots instead of +one, and fired just between the two; besides, the birds were also in +a more disbanded state, so that the quantity of game killed was not +what it had been in the early part of the morning. Mirth, however, +did not flag; the mist, moreover, having quite vanished, the beauty +of the green shores was seen in all its splendour. + +Many of the youthful inhabitants of Nona had come to see the sport, +picking up some wounded bird bleeding to death in the fields; whilst +many a countryman passing thereby, wearily trudging towards his home, +his long-barrelled gun slung across his shoulder, shot down more than +one stray coot that had taken refuge in a neighbouring field, hoping +thereby to have escaped from the general slaughter. + +At last, late in the afternoon, our sportsmen, heavily laden, +followed Giulianic to his house, to finish there the day which they +had so well begun. + +Moreover, the men having risen so very early and being tired out, +fell to dozing. Uros had gone to the ship to see how the repairs were +getting on, and Milenko was thus left alone with Ivanika, or +Ivanitza, as she was usually called. This was the opportunity he had +eagerly wished for, to confess his love to her; nay, for two days he +had rehearsed this scene over and over in his mind, and he had not +only thought of all he would say to her, but even what she would +answer. + +Although he was said to be gifted with a vivid imagination, now that +he was alone with her he could hardly find a word to say. It was, +indeed, so much easier to woo in fancy than in reality. + +How happy he would have been, walking in the garden with this +beautiful girl, if he could only have got rid of his overpowering +shyness. How many things he could have told her if he had only known +how to begin; but every monosyllable he had uttered was said with +trepidation, and in a hoarse and husky tone. Still, with every +passing moment, he felt he was losing a precious opportunity he might +never have again. + +He did not know, however, that, if his lips were dumb, his eyes, +beaming with love, spoke a passionate speech that words themselves +were powerless to express. Nor was he aware that--though with +maidenly coyness she turned her head away--she still read in his +burning glances the love she longed to hear from his lips. + +After a few commonplace phrases they walked on in silence, and then +the same thoughts filled their hearts with almost unutterable +anguish. In a few days the brig would be repaired, the sails +unfurled, the anchor weighed; then the broad sea would separate them +for ever. + +The sun was just sinking beyond the waves, and the shivering waters +looked like translucent gold; a mass of soft, misty clouds was +glowing with saffron, orange and crimson hues, whilst the sky above +was of a warm, roseate flush. Little by little all the tints faded, +became duller, more delicate; the saffron changed into a pale-greyish +lemon green, the crimson softened into pink. The sun's last rays +having disappeared, the opaline clouds looked like wreaths of smoke +or pearly-grey mists. + +Milenko's heart felt all the changes that Nature underwent; his +glowing love, though not less intent, was more subdued, and though, +in his yearning, he longed to clasp this maiden in his arms, and to +tell her that his life would be sadder than dusk itself without her +love, still he felt too much and had not the courage to speak. +Sometimes in the fulness of the heart the mouth remains mute. + +Now the bell of a distant church began to ring slowly--the evening +song, the dirge of the dying day. Ivanitza crossed herself devoutly; +Milenko took off his cap, and likewise made the sign of the Cross. +Both of them stopped; both breathed a short prayer, and then resumed +their walk in silence. + +After a few steps he tried to master his emotion and utter that short +sentence: "Ivanitza, I love you." + +Then something seemed to grip his throat and choke him; it was not +possible for him to bring those words out. Besides, he thought they +would sound so unmeaning and vapid, so far from expressing the hunger +of his heart; so he said nothing. + +Meanwhile the bell kept doling out its chimes slowly, one by one, and +as he asked himself whether it were possible to live without this +girl, whom he now loved so dearly, the harmony of the bell chimed in +with his thoughts, and said to him: "Ay, nay; ay, nay." + +All at once, feeling that this girl must think him a fool if he kept +silent, that he must say something, no matter what it was, and +happening to see a lonely gull flying away towards the sea, he said, +in a faltering tone: + +"Ivanika, do you like coots?" + +It was the only thing that came into his mind. She looked up at him +with a roguish twinkle in her eyes. + +"Do you mean cooked coots or live coots?" + +Milenko looked for a while rather puzzled, as if bewildered by the +question. Then, taking the tips of the girl's fingers: "I was not +thinking of them, either alive or cooked." + +Ivanika quietly drew her hand away. + +"What were you thinking of, then?" she said. + +"May I tell you?" + +"Well, if you want any answer to your question," added she, laughing. + +"Please don't make fun of me. If you only knew----" + +"What?" + +He grasped her hand, and held it tight in his. + +"Well, how deeply I love you." + +He said this in a tragic tone, and heaved a sigh of relief when it +was out at last. + +The young girl tried to wrench away her hand, but he held it fast. +She turned her head aside, so that he could not see the +uncontrollable ray of happiness that gleamed within the depths of her +eyes. Her heart fluttered, a thrill of joy passed through her whole +frame; but she did her best to subdue her emotion, which might seem +bold and unmaidenly, so that she schooled herself to say demurely, +nay almost coldly: + +"How can you possibly love me, when you know so little of me?" + +"But must you know a person for ages before you love him, Ivanitza?" + +"No, I don't mean that; still----" + +"Though I have never been fond of any girl till now, and therefore +did not know what love was, still, the moment I saw you I felt as if +my heart had stopped beating. You may think it strange, but still it +is true. When I saw you with my spy-glass standing bravely on the +deck of your crazy boat, whilst the huge billows and breakers were +dashing against you, ever ready to wash you away, then my heart +seemed to take wings and fly towards you. How I suffered at that +moment. Every time your boat was about to sink, I gasped, feeling as +if I myself was drowning; but had the caique foundered, I should have +jumped in the waves and swum to your rescue." + +Ivanitza's heart throbbed with joy, pride, exultation at the thought +of having the love of such a brave man. + +"You see, I had hardly seen you, and still I should have risked my +life a thousand times to help you. It was for you, and you alone, +that I got into the boat to come to you, though the captain and Uros +at first thought it sheer madness; and if my friend and the other +sailor had not accompanied me--well, I should have come alone." + +"And got drowned?" + +"Life would not have been worth living without you." + +The young girl looked at him with admiring eyes, and nature, for a +moment, almost got the mastery over her shyness and the stern +claustral way in which, like all Levantine girls, she had been +brought up; for her impulse was to throw herself in his arms and +leave him to strain her against his manly chest. Besides, at that +moment she remembered what a delightful sensation she had had when, +awaking from her swoon, she had felt herself carried like a baby in +his strong arms. Still, she managed to master herself, and only said: + +"So, had it not been for you, we should all have been drowned." + +"Oh, I don't say that! Seeing your danger, at the last moment someone +else might, perhaps, have volunteered to come to your rescue. Uros +and the captain are both very brave; only the captain has a family of +his own, and Uros---" + +"What! is he married?" + +"Oh, no!" said Milenko, laughing; "he is not married, but----" + +"But what?" + +"Well, you see, he is in love; but please do not mention a word about +it to him or anyone else." + +"Why, is it a secret?" + +"Yes, it is a very great secret--that is to say, not a very great +secret either, but it is a matter never to be spoken of." + +"No? Why?" + +"I can't tell you; indeed, I can't." + +"How you tantalise me!" + +"I'll tell you, perhaps, some other time." + +"When?" + +"Well, perhaps, when----" + +"Go on." + +"When we are married." + +The young girl burst out laughing. It was a clear, silvery, +spontaneous, merry laugh; but still, for a moment, it jarred upon +Milenko's nerves. He looked rather downcast, for he was far from +thinking the matter to be a joke. + +"Why do you laugh?" said he, ruefully. + +"Because, probably, I shall never know your friend's secret." + +The poor fellow's brown complexion grew livid, the muscles of his +heart contracted with a spasm, he gasped for breath; the pang he felt +was so strong that he could hardly speak; still, he managed to +falter: + +"Why, are you, perhaps, already engaged to be married?" + +"I?" said she, with another laugh. "No." + +"Nor in love with anyone?" + +"No." + +"Then, don't you think----" + +He stopped again. + +"Think what?" + +"Well, that you might love me a little some day?" + +She gave him no answer. + +"What, you don't think you could?" he asked, anxiously. + +"But I didn't say that I couldn't, only----" + +"Only what?" + +"A girl cannot always choose for herself." + +"Why not?" + +"Suppose my father chooses someone else for me?" + +"But surely he will not." + +"Suppose he has already promised me----" + +"Why go and suppose such dreadful things? Besides, he ought to +remember that I risked my life to save yours; that----" + +Milenko stopped for a moment, and then he added: + +"Well, I don't like boasting; still, if it had not been for me--well, +I suppose your caique would have foundered. No, tell me that you love +me, or at least that you might get to love me. Let me ask your +father----" + +"No, no; not yet." + +"Why not?" + +"Well, we hardly know each other. Who knows, perhaps, the next port +you go to----" + +Here she heaved a deep sigh. + +"Well, what?" asked the youth, ingenuously. + +"You might see some girl that you might like better than myself, and +then you will regret that you have engaged yourself to a girl whom +you think you are obliged to marry." + +"How can you think me so fickle?" + +"You are so young." + +"So is Uros young, and still----" + +"Still?" she asked, smilingly, with an inquisitive look. + +"He is in love." + +"With?" + +"A woman," said Milenko, gloomily. + +"Of course." + +"Well, I'll tell you, only please don't mention it--with a married +woman. Are you not sorry for him?" + +"No, not at all; a young man ought not to fall in love with a married +woman--it's a sin, a crime." + +"That's what I told him myself." + +After a short pause, Milenko, having now got over his shyness: + +"Well, Ivanitza, tell me, will you not give me a little hope; will +you not try to love me just a little?" + +"Would you be satisfied with only just a little?" + +"No." + +"Well, then--I am afraid----" + +"What?" + +"I shall have to love you a good deal." + +He caught hold of her reluctant hand and covered it with kisses. + +"If you think that your father might object to me because I am a +seaman, tell him that my father is well off, and that I am his only +son. Both Uros and I have gone to sea by choice, and to see a little +of the world; still, we are not to be sailors all our lives." + +Afterwards he began to ask her whether she would not like to come and +sail with him in summer, when he would be master of the brig; then +again he ended by begging her to allow him to speak to her father. + +"No, not now. It is better for you to go away and see if you do not +forget me. Besides, neither your father nor your mother know anything +about me, and it may happen that they have other views about you." + +"Their only aim is my happiness." + +"Still, they might think that you were wheedled----" + +"How could they think so ill of you?" + +"You forget that they do not know me. Anyhow, it is more dutiful that +you should speak to them before you speak to my father." + +"Well, perhaps you are right. Only, you see, I love you so; I should +be so frightened to lose you." + +"It is not likely that anybody will think of me for some years yet." + +"Well, then, promise me not to marry anyone else. In a year's time, +then, I shall come and speak to your father. Will you promise?" + +"I promise." + +"Will you give me a pledge?" + +She gave him her hand, but he gently pulled her towards him, clasped +her in his arms, and kissed her rosy lips. Then they both went into +the house. + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +THE BULLIN-MOST + + +"I suppose you have been to Knin and Dernis?" said the captain by +chance after dinner to his host, speaking about the trade with the +interior, whilst puffing away at the long stem of his cherry-wood +pipe. + +"Of course. Haven't you?" + +"Oh, no! we sailors are always acquainted with the coasts of +countries, nothing more. What kind of a place is this Knin?" + +"Much of a muchness, like other places. The country, however, is fine +and picturesque. There is, besides, the Bullin-Most." + +"What is that?" + +"The name of a bridge at the entrance of the town, and almost at the +foot of the fortress which tops the crags. It is called the +Bullin-Most, or the Bridge of the Turkish Woman. Formerly it used to +be called the Bridge of the Two Torrents." + +"Well, and what is there remarkable about it?" + +"Don't you know the tale of 'Hussein and Ayesha'?" + +"No." + +"It is the subject of one of Kacic's finest poems. Would you like to +hear it?" + +"Of course." + +"Well, then, about two hundred years ago, more or less, Kuna Hassan +was the governor of Knin and of the neighbouring province. The _Aga_ +was said to be a man of great wisdom and courage; but his many +qualities were marred by his severity towards the Christians, whom he +hated, and subjected to all kinds of vexations and cruel treatment. + +"This _Aga_ had a numerous family, being blessed with many children +by his several wives; but Ayesha, the only daughter of his favourite +wife, was the child in whom he had put all the fondness of his heart. +She was, it is true, a girl of an extraordinary beauty. Her skin, +they say, was as white as the snowy peaks of the Dinara, the mountain +over against the fort of Knin; her eyes were black, but they sparkled +softly, like the star which shines at twilight; her curly hair had +the colour of the harvest moon's mellow light. + +"All the _vati_ of her father's palace were in love with her, only +hearing her beauty extolled by the eunuchs of the harem, and seeing +her glorious eyes sparkle through her veils, or the tips of her +tapering fingers, as she held her _feredgé_. + +"The principal lords of Kuna Hassan Aga's Court were, first, Ibrahim +Velagic, the _Dizdar_ of Stermizza; then Mujo Jelascovic, the +governor of Biscupia; lastly old Sarè the _Bulju Pasha_, or +lieutenant of the troops. The old Sarè had a son named Hussein, who +was the standard-bearer; he was the most beautiful young man of the +land, nay, it was difficult to find his like. He was, indeed, as +handsome as Ayesha was comely. The one was like a lily, the other +like a pomegranate flower. + +"At that time, as I have said before, the Christians were groaning +under the Turkish yoke, and several attempts had already been made to +shake it off; nay, many of the struggles which had taken place +between the Turks and the men of the Kotar had been most successful, +as they had for their chief, Jancovic Stoyan, or Stephen, known in +history as 'the clearer of Turkish heads.' These continual skirmishes +had weakened our oppressors in such a way, and spread so much fear +amongst them, that Kuna Hassan never felt sure whenever he left his +castle walls. Finding himself reduced to this extremity, he +determined to muster all the troops he could get together and make +war upon the Christians. + +"And now," said Giulianic, "I think I can give you some of Kacic's +verses on this subject;" therefore, taking a guitar, he sang as +follows: + + "A letter wrote Hassan Aga + From Knin itself, the white-walled town; + He sent it to the bordering Turks, + To Mujo and to Velagic. + + "And in this letter Kuna spake: + 'Oh! brave men of my border-lands, + Now muster all your borderers, + And hie to Knin, the white-walled town. + + "'For we shall raid upon Kotar, + And there rich plunder shall we get + Both gold and young Molachian maids, + Shall be the prize of all the brave. + + "'Kotar will be an easy prey + For you, the warriors of the Cross! + Besides, the Sirdars are away, + And Stoyan is in Venice now. + + "'Milikovic has fallen sick, + Mocivana has lost his horse, + Mircetic has sprained his hand, + And Klana to a feast is gone.' + + "The Bulju Pasha heard all this, + And wisely answered to Kuna: + 'Forbear, Kuna Aga; forbear + To make a raid upon Kotar!'" + +Giulianic stopped to take breath. "The poem is long," said he, "and I +am old; I shall relate the story in my own words:--Well, Kuna Hassan +Aga would not be dissuaded, especially as the _Dizdars_ were for it. +The expedition took place. Jelascovic and Velagic--called the snakes +of the empire, on account of their strength and craft--came to Kuna's +castle, bringing each man three hundred men with him. The _Aga_ +mustered as many men himself, and with this little array they set off +for the Kotar. At first they were successful; they fell upon the open +country, plundering and sacking, carrying away young boys and girls +as slaves, finding nowhere the slightest opposition. It was not a +war, but a military march; thus they went on until they reached the +lovely meadows at the foot of the hills of Otre, a most pleasant +country, watered by many rivulets. + +"There they pitched their tents, and began to prepare their meal and +make merry. All at once as the sun went down, a slight mist began to +rise from the waters and from the marshes of Ostrovizza, not very far +off from there. As the day declined, the fog grew denser, and when +night came on Jancovic Stoyan, who had returned from Venice, together +with the other _Sirdars_, fell upon them, threw them upon the +marshes, and not only obliged them to give back all their plunder, +but killed more than six hundred of their men. It was only with great +difficulty that the _Aga_ and _Dizdars_ got back to Knin; they were +all in a sorry plight, regretting deeply not to have followed Sarè's +advice. + +"Shortly after this, Kuna Hassan, having recovered from the wounds he +had received, gathered again all his chief warriors together. Then he +made them a long speech, saying that it was time that the Christian +hornets should be done away with, and their nests destroyed, for, if +left alive, they would daily become more troublesome; then he made +them many promises, so as to induce them to fight, but without much +success. At last he offered the hand of his handsome daughter, who, as +I have said, was indeed as beautiful as a heavenly houri, and a bride +fit for the Sultan, or the Prophet himself, to the bold warrior who +would bring him the head of Jancovic Stoyan, or those of the three +hundred Christians. The prize he requested was a great one, but the +reward he offered was such as to inflame the hearts of the greatest +cowards. + +"However, amongst the warriors that Kuna Hassan had gathered together +that day, neither old Sarè nor his son, the handsome +standard-bearer, had been requested to attend, doubtless, because the +_Aga_ had thought the _Bulju Pasha_ too old, and his son too young +and too rash, for such an undertaking. Perhaps he also felt a grudge +against the _Bulju Pasha_ for having dissuaded him from the first +attack, which had met with such a bad success. + +"When poor Hussein heard of the slight he and his father had met +with, he was very much grieved, for, though he was the _Aga_'s +standard-bearer, he had been treated as a mere boy. Moreover, he was +madly in love with the beautiful Ayesha, who returned his affection. +In fact, whenever she had an opportunity, she sent him a message by +one of the eunuchs, and every time he used to pass under her window +she was at the lattice, and she often dropped a flower, or even her +handkerchief, if no one was looking on. + +"Hussein would have risked his life to try and obtain her; nay, he +would even have gone to Zara and fight Stoyan, if he could get her +father's consent to wed her. + +"As for the _Sirdars_, they were only too glad that Hussein was not +amongst the warriors called forth to strive for Ayesha's hand, nor +would they now allow any new pretender to come forth and take part in +their raids with them. + +"During the many skirmishes that took place round about Knin, Hussein +had been left to take care of the castle, and then he had succeeded +in bribing the head eunuch to allow him to talk with Ayesha. + +"This keeper, knowing how fond his mistress was of the handsome +standard-bearer, had consented to allow the lovers to meet, while he +watched over their safety. + +"At first, when all the Mussulman warriors met with so many losses, +the lovers were happy, for they thought it would be years before any +of them could ask for their reward; but afterwards, when it was known +that Velagic's heap of heads was daily increasing, their gladness of +heart changed into the deepest sorrow. Both saw that there was very +little chance of their ever being able to marry, and Ayesha, rather +than give up the man she loved so deeply and become the wife of the +old _Dizdar_, whom she detested, proposed to her lover that they +should run away together. + +"They waited till the very last moment, thinking that Velagic might +be killed, or some other unforeseen circumstance might take place; +but they had no _Kismet_, for the _Dizdar_ seemed to have a charmed +life; he had already got together about two hundred and ninety heads. +How he had got them, nobody could understand, for he had never +received the slightest wound in any of his many fights. + +"The last time the lovers met, they agreed that the day upon which +Velagic brought the ten last heads they would make their escape. +Hussein, upon that night, was to be on the rocks at the foot of the +castle, somewhere near the place occupied by the harem; then, at +midnight, when all the town had sunk into rest, and all the lights +were extinguished, Ayesha would put a taper by her window to guide +him if everything was ready for their flight. After the _muezzin_ had +called the faithful to prayers, she would open the lattice and throw +out a rope-ladder, by means of which he would climb up into the +castle. There he was to be received by the eunuch that had hitherto +befriended him--be led to her chamber-door. From there they would +pass by an underground passage, the keys of which she had. This +passage had an outlet, somewhere beyond the town, near the bridge, +where, indeed, there is a kind of den or hole. There Hussein was to +have swift horses ready, so that they might at once escape to Zara or +Sebenico, and if that was not far enough, they could there freight a +ship and go off to Venice. + +"Hussein, overjoyed, promised that he would take the necessary steps, +so that nothing might hinder their flight. + +"Poor lovers! they little knew how all their designs were to be +thwarted! + +"At about four miles from Knin, and not far from the highway leading +to Grab, rises a huge beetling rock about thirty feet in height; it +seems to slant so much over the road that all the passers-by shudder +lest it should fall and crush them. The name of this rock is the +Uzdah-kamen, or the Stone of the Sighs--perhaps, because the wind +which always blows there seems to be moaning, or, as there is a kind +of natural cistern, spring, or well of water, which is said to be +fathomless, more than one luckless wanderer, going to drink of that +icy-cold water, happened to slip into it, utter a moan and a sigh, +and then all was over with him. + +"Near this fountain there is a deep cavern, which is the +dwelling-place of a witch, well known in Turkish and Arabian +mythology, as well as Chaldean lore. Her name, which is hardly ever +uttered, and never without a shudder of awe, is Nedurè; but she is +usually spoken of as The Witch. This Nedurè--for we may well call +her by her name without fear--used to take the form of a lovely young +female, and come and sit by the spring at the entrance of her cave. +There she would sit, combing her long hair, which was of the deepest +hue of the night. Then, displaying all the bewitching beauty of +sixteen summers, she would press all the handsome youths who passed +thereby to come and rest in her den. + +"Like a wily spider, she daily caught some silly man to linger and +gaze upon her large, languishing black eyes with long silken lashes, +like natural _khol_, or to look on the dark moles on her alabaster +skin. If he did so, he was lost, and nothing more was heard of him, +but his sighs wafted by the wind. + +"Now, it happened one day that as Hussein was going to Grab on +horseback, he passed by the rock of Uzdah-kamen, and, lo and behold! +Nedurè was sitting by the fountain waiting for him. As soon as she +saw him she beckoned to him to go up to her; but he, far from +obeying, spurred his horse and turned away from the woman. + +"'Hussein,' said she, 'you are warm and weary; come and have a +draught of this delicious water and rest a while in my moss-grown +cavern.' + +"'Thank you, I am neither warm nor weary; so I require neither water +nor rest.' + +"'Hussein, why do you turn away your head, and will not even deign to +cast a glance upon me?' + +"'Because I have heard of your enticements and blandishments, and do +not wish to fall a prey to such charms.' + +"'I am afraid people have slandered me to you,' quoth she; 'but +believe them not. I am your friend--as I am, indeed, that of all +lovers. I know how your heart yearns for Kuna Hassan Aga's daughter, +and I should like to be kind to you, and help you in getting her for +your bride.' + +"'Thank you, indeed,' replied the standard-bearer, who knew the wiles +of the witch; 'you are very good, but I hope to obtain Ayesha by the +strength of my love, and not by your wicked art.' + +"'Look how ungracious you are. I wish to befriend you, whilst you +only answer me by taunts.' + +"'Thank you, but your friendship would cost me too dear.' + +"'No; my help is only paid by love. You see, I do not ask much.' + +"'Still, I should have to remain your debtor. My heart is full of +love for Ayesha, and it can harbour none for creatures such as you.' + +"'Well, then,' said she, in her sweetest voice, which was as soft as +the morning breeze amongst the orange-groves, 'if you hate me in this +way, why do you not look upon me? Do you think my charms can have any +temptation for you?' + +"'We should try to resist temptation, and then it will flee from us.' + +"Thereupon he spurred his horse and rode away. + +"From that day, Nedurè's heart, which had until then burned with +lust, was filled with the bitterest hatred for the young man, who had +not yielded to her request. + +"Therefore she only thought to bring about his death, and was ever +plotting by which way she could harm him, for the Most High would not +allow her to do any harm to the faithful, so she strove to find +someone who would take up her vengeance for her, and now she was +about to reach her aim. + +"When Hussein and Ayesha had planned together everything for their +escape, Nedurè, the witch, who by her art could read the future, and +who, besides, could change herself into the likeness of a bird, a +rat, or even into that of any of the smaller insects, managed somehow +or other to overhear all that conversation of the lovers, and then +she at once sent for Velagic and informed him of what was to take +place. + +"'Velagic,' said she, 'you are old, and it is true you think yourself +a world-wise man, but do you really believe that Ayesha, who is as +beautiful as the rising moon, for whose charms all men lose their +wits, can fall in love with an old man like you?' + +"'I do not ask her to fall in love with me. Now, by your help, I +shall have got together the number of heads which the _Aga_ requires +as the prize for his daughter, and then she will be mine.' + +"'Do not be too sure of that. Whilst you are numbering your heads, +Hussein, the handsome standard-bearer, has found his way to Ayesha's +heart.' + +"Velagic winced at hearing this; but soon he shrugged his shoulders, +and added: + +"'What does it matter if that young coxcomb is in love with her, or +even she with him. In a day or two I shall claim her as my bride. +Once she is in my stronghold of Stermizza, woe to the flies that come +buzzing around my honey.' + +"'Velagic, Velagic,' said the witch, 'there is many a slip 'twixt the +cup and the lip; to-morrow you may find the cage empty and the bird +flown.' + +"'What do you mean, Nedurè?' + +"'I mean what I say.' + +"'Explain yourself, I beg you.' + +"The witch thereupon told the _Dizdar_ all that was to take place, +and then advised him what he had to do. + +"That day passed away and night came on; it was even a very dark one, +because, not only was there no moon, but the sky was overspread with +a thick mass of clouds, and heaven seemed to be lowering on the +earth. + +"The hours passed slowly for three persons at Knin that night. Two of +them repeated their prayers devoutly, and tried to fix their thoughts +towards the holy _Kaaba_; one alone, whose heart was full of +murderous designs, could not pray at all. + +"Velagic had been a wicked man; he had forfeited the happiness of his +future life, but never as yet had he rendered himself guilty of +shedding the blood of a Mussulman, nay, of murdering the son of one +of his greatest friends. The guilt he was about to commit was beyond +redemption; he knew that the Compassionate would spurn him away in +his wrath, and that he would be doomed to eternal fire; but what +could he do now? it was too late to retreat. He was in the witch's +power, nay, an instrument in her hands. + +"He tried to pray, but every time he attempted to utter Allah's +sacred name, it seemed as if the three hundred heads now gathered +upon his tower were all blinking and grinning at him. + +"Midnight came; all the preparations were made, every necessary +precaution against surprise was taken, the horses were ready for the +fugitives at the opening of the cave beyond the bridge. + +"Hussein, at the foot of the tower, saw the beacon light at Ayesha's +window, and slowly and stealthily he scrambled on to the rocks +beneath it, awaiting, with a beating heart, for the given signal. + +"All at once, in the midst of the darkness, he heard the _adan_--the +chant of the _muezzin_--calling the faithful to the prayers of the +_Ramazan_. + +"'God is most great,' uttered Hussein faintly, and then lifting his +eyes as the sound of the _muezzin_'s voice had died away in the +distance, he saw the lattice of Ayesha's window open, and he heard +the ladder of ropes slowly being let down. + +"He had time to say one _rekah_, or prayer, before the ladder reached +the ground, and then he seized the ropes and began to go up. The +ascent was a long one, for the tower was very high. He had not gone +up many steps, when he heard a noise somewhere above his head. He +shuddered and listened. It was nothing but an owl that had its nest +in some hole in the wall; doubtless it had been frightened by the +ladder, and now it flew away with a loud screech, grazing Hussein +with its wings as it passed. + +"Hussein, though brave, felt his limbs quake with fear; was it not an +evil omen? Would not something happen now that he was about to reach +the goal of his happiness! + +"Was it not possible that the eunuch had betrayed him? No, that could +not be; this man had always been so fond of Ayesha. A thousand dismal +thoughts crowded through his brain; the way up in the midst of the +darkness seemed everlasting. He looked towards the lighted window; he +was only half-way up. + +"Just then he thought he heard something creak. Was it the rope +breaking beneath his weight? Frightened, he hastened to climb up; if +there was any danger it would soon be over. + +"He muttered a few verses of the Koran; he looked up again; now he +could see Ayesha's face at the open window; she stretched forth her +arms towards him. How beautiful she was! There, in the darkness, it +seemed as if all the constellations had hidden themselves before her +radiant beauty. + +"He stopped one moment to take breath and to look at her, when again +he heard the ropes creak, and at the same moment the ladder snapped +under the young man's weight. He lifted up his arms towards her, but +alas! she was beyond his grasp. The next instant he fell with a heavy +thud upon the rocks, and from those into the yawning precipice over +which the castle was built. + +"Ayesha uttered a loud cry, which was repeated several times by the +surrounding echoes, and then she swooned away in the eunuch's arms. + +"Velagic, who, apparently, had been hidden close by, saw Hussein fall +into the chasm, and heard Ayesha's cry; then he mounted his horse and +galloped away. + +"When Ayesha, with the help of the eunuch, got over her faintness, +she went to the window and looked down, but she could only see the +darkness of the chasm below. She listened; she heard nothing but the +wind, the rustling of the leaves, and now and then the screech of +some night-bird. She pulled up the ladder; she saw that it had been +cut in several places, at one of which it snapped. She understood +that some foul treachery had been committed, but she could not make +out who had discovered their secret and had dealt her this cruel +wrong. She could not suspect the eunuch, who was there by her side, +her friend to the last. + +"She passed a night of most terrible anguish and anxiety, waiting +impatiently, and still dreading the morrow. She tried to hope that +Hussein might not have fallen down the chasm, that he might have been +caught by some of the trees or bushes that grew on the rocks, and +thus saved from death; but it was, at best, only a faint kind of +forlorn hope. + +"Not a cry, not a groan escaped from her lips, as she stood cold and +tearless, at her window, almost stupefied by the intensity of her +grief. Thus she remained motionless and dumb for hours, until the +first rays of dawn lighted the tops of the Veli-Berdo, the mountain +over the fortress. + +"Her eyes pierced the faint glimmering of the dawn, and, looking down +into the chasm, at the place where the two torrents meet, there she +saw three lovely maidens of superhuman beauty, tending the remains of +her lover. By their garments, of the colour and splendour of +emeralds, by their faces shining like burnished silver, she knew that +they were celestial houris, and that her lover was already amongst +the blessed. + +"When she saw this sight, she wanted to dash herself down into the +chasm and rejoin her happy lover, hoping that Allah would be merciful +and allow her to meet Hussein in the abode of the blessed; but then +one of the houris beckoned to her to stop, and in a twinkling she was +by her side, whispering words of comfort in her ear. + +"Her attendants, whom she had dismissed in the early evening, came +back to her early in the morning, and they were surprised to see she +had fainted by the window. + +"When she recovered from her swoon, every recollection of that +terrible night seemed to have passed away; far from being bereaved +and forlorn, she was a happy maiden, about to be united to her lover +in eternal bliss. + +"Later on in the day her father summoned her to his presence, to tell +her that the _Dizdar_ of Stermizza had brought the three hundred +Christian heads demanded as the price for her hand, and that she was +to get ready to receive him as the man who was to be her husband. + +"Ayesha crossed her hands on her breast and bowed; then she uttered, +in a soft, slow voice, that sounded as an echo of a distant sound: + +"'My lord, it shall be as Kismet has ordained.' + +"As Kuna Hassan knew nothing of all that had happened, he thought +that his daughter meant that she was ready to obey the decrees of the +Fates, that had chosen Velagic for her husband; so he answered: + +"'Though he would not have been the man I should have chosen for +thee, still, by his bravery, he has won thee for his bride; so +prepare yourself to go with him this very evening. But, daughter of +my heart,' added he, taking her hand, 'before parting with your +father, have you no request to make?' + +"'Yes, father.' + +"'Well, let me hear it, my child, and if it is in my power to grant +it, you may be sure that your wish will be gratified.' + +"'My request, though strange indeed, is a very simple one; it is that +my betrothal should take place this evening, on the Poto-devi-Most, +just when the sun gilds with its rays the snowy peaks of the +Veli-Berdo. This, and nothing more.' + +"The father looked at his child, astonished. + +"'It is, indeed, a strange request, and were it not for the earnest +way in which it is made, I should think that it was merely a joke. +Anyhow, it shall be as you wish; only, may I know why you do not wish +to be married in the usual way?' + +"'I have had a vision at day-break, and the powers above have decreed +that it shall be so; but I cannot speak about it till this evening, +at the appointed place.' + +"The _Aga_, wishing the ceremony to be performed with the utmost +splendour, sent word at once to the _Dizdar_ of Stermizza to be on +the Bridge of the Two Torrents at the appointed time. Similar +messages were likewise sent to the other _Dizdars_ and _Sirdars_, and +to all the gentry of Knin and of the neighbouring towns. + +"The sun was sinking down below the horizon when Ibrahim Velagic, +followed by Mujo Jelascovic, by the old _Bulju Pasha_, who was as yet +ignorant of his son's fate, by the other Mussulman warriors, as well +as by a number of _svati_--all came to the bridge, attired in +magnificent clothes of silk and satin, laced in gold, with their +finest weapons glittering with precious stones. Then came Kuna Hassan +Aga, with all his train and a number of slaves, some carrying a +palanquin, the others the bridal gifts. + +"When the two parties had met at the bridge, all wondering what would +take place next, Ayesha ordered the slaves to put her down. + +"Velagic at once dismounted from his horse, and came forward to help +her to alight, offering her his hand. + +"She simply waved him off, and standing up: 'How dare you come to me! +Look at your hand; it is stained with blood; and not with Christian, +but with Moslem blood.' + +"The eyes of the bystanders were all turned upon the _Dizdar_ of +Stermizza, who got all at once of a livid hue; still, he lifted up his +hand and said: + +"'Ayesha, my hands have often been stained with the blood of our +enemies, never with that of our brethren.' + +"'Man,' said the young girl, 'in the name of the Living God, thou +liest!' + +"There was a murmur and a stir amongst the crowd, as when the slight +wind which precedes the storm rustles amongst the leaves of the +trees. + +"Then Ayesha, turning towards Sarè: 'Father,' said she to him, 'your +hand.' + +"The _Bulju Pasha_ rushed forward and helped her to alight. + +"As soon as she was on the ground she threw off her veil and her +_feredgé_, and stood there in her glittering bridal dress, the +costly jewels of which seemed to shine less than her beautiful face. + +"All the men were astounded at such an act of boldness from so modest +a maiden; but her dazzling beauty seemed to fill them with that awe +which is felt at some supernatural sight. They all thought they were +looking upon a houri, or some heavenly vision, rather than upon a +human being; so that when she opened her lips again to speak, a +perfect silence reigned everywhere. + +"'Sarè,' said she, 'where is your son?' + +"'My child?' replied the old man; 'I have not see him the whole of +this long day.' + +"'Ibrahim Velagic, _Dizdar_ of Stermizza, where is Hussein, the +standard-bearer?' + +"'How am I to know? Am I his keeper?' + +"'Sarè,' continued the young girl, 'when, after the fight of +Ostrovizza, my father had promised me as the bride of the warrior who +would bring him the head of the brave Christian knight Jancovic +Stoyan, or those of three hundred of our foes, Hussein, your son, by +the machinations of Ibrahim Velagic and his friends, was excluded +from amongst the warriors who could obtain my hand by fighting for +our faith and our country. Sarè, I loved your son; yes, father, I +say it aloud and unblushingly, for Hussein was as good as he was +handsome, and as brave as he was good. I loved him with all my heart, +and he loved me, because the Fates had decreed that we should be man +and wife, if we lived. Our faith, therefore, was plighted. We waited, +hoping that some happy incident would happen to free me from my +impending fate. At last I knew that Ibrahim Velagic had got together +the number of heads demanded by my father for my dower, and that +to-day he was coming to claim me as his bride. Rather than be the +wife of that imposter, felon and murderer, I should have thrown +myself in yonder chasm. + +"'You are astonished at such language; but, father, how is it that +all the warriors aspiring to my hand cannot put together a hundred +heads, whilst Velagic alone has three hundred? + +"'Well, then, know that those heads are by no means the heads of our +enemies; they are rather those of the unhappy beings who of late have +been seduced by Nedurè, the witch, into her den, and who after their +rash act never saw daylight again. Look at those ghastly heads, and +perhaps many of you will find there people that you have known.' + +"At these words, stirred to rage at the light of truth which gleamed +from Ayesha's eyes, there was such a yelling and hissing, that it +seemed as if all the men there had been changed into snakes. They +would have thrown themselves on the _Dizdar_ and torn him to pieces +there and then, had Ayesha not stopped them. + +"'Forbear,' said she, 'and hear me out; wait at least for the proofs +I shall give you of his guilt.' + +"'Ayesha!' cried out old Sarè, overcome by anguish, 'and my son +--where is my son? Is my beautiful boy's head amongst the three +hundred?' + +"'No; brave Hussein withstood long ago the enticement of the witch, +and she has been since then his bitterest enemy.' + +"Sarè heaved a deep sigh of relief. + +"'Hussein was to deliver me from that heinous wretch. Last night we +were to flee together. I had the houris to help me, but alas! Ibrahim +Velagic had the powers of darkness. It was night, and he won. Hussein +yesternight was under my windows, as we had agreed upon. I opened my +lattice and lowered him a ladder of ropes, upon which he was climbing +joyfully; a moment more he would have reached the windowsill. All at +once, an owl screeched, the ropes gave way, and Hussein, my brave +Hussein, was dashed down those rocks and into the dreadful chasm. +Sarè, my poor Sarè, you have no son. Still, be of good cheer; this +morning, when the first rays of the sun were gilding the tops of the +Veli-Berdo, I saw the celestial maidens tending him. His mangled body +is in the chasm, but his soul is in the blessed abode of peace.' + +"'Ayesha,' interrupted the _Aga_, 'is all this true?' + +"The girl beckoned to a slave to approach, and then she took a parcel +from his hands. + +"'This,' said she, opening it, 'is what remains of the ladder; and +you will find Hussein's body in the chasm, smiling in the happy sleep +of death. The houris, who have been praying over him the whole day, +have covered him with garlands of flowers. Go and dig his grave in +the burying-ground, and dig another one by his side.' + +"'But,' said Kuna Hassan, 'how did the accident happen?' + +"'Nedurè hated Hussein, but she could not harm him, so she apprised +Velagic of what was to happen; nay, she did more, she transformed him +into the likeness of a rat, and changing herself into an owl, she +deposited the _Dizdar_ on the sill of my room, there he came and +gnawed at the ropes of the ladder.' + +"'This is false,' said the _Dizdar_. 'Whoever can believe such a +story? Why, the girl is mad!' + +"'Guards,' said the _Aga_, with his hand on the haft of his dagger, +'seize Velagic, and mind that you do not let him escape!' + +"'Away!' replied the _Dizdar_. 'A man of my rank can only be judged +by the Sultan.' + +"'Stop!' cried Ayesha; then, lifting her beautiful arm, naked up to +the shoulder, and whiter than the strings of pearls entwined around +it, and pointing towards the highway: + +"'Do you see there a cloud of dust on the road? Do you see those men +coming here? Do you know who they are? You cannot distinguish them, +but I can.' + +"'Who are they, Ayesha?' cried all the bystanders. + +"'The foremost man amongst them, that tall and handsome youth, that +looks like Prince George of Cappadocia, is no less a hero. It is +Stoyan Jancovic, the man whose back you never saw; the others are but +a few of his followers.' + +"Then, turning to Velagic: 'Now, craven, utter your last prayer, if +you can and if you dare, then prepare to fight; your hour has come.' + +"Hearing these words, the _Dizdar_ grew ashy pale; then he began to +quake with fear. Such an overpowering dread filled his soul that he +seemed to have been smitten with a strong fit of the ague. Still, +trying to hide his anxiety: + +"'Yes, we shall fight; Allah be thanked, brothers, that this infidel +dog is within our reach. Yes, friends, we shall see the power of the +Crescent over the Cross.' + +"'No; you shall fight alone,' said Ayesha, authoritatively; 'and it +is useless to contaminate the name of the All-powerful. As you are +already doomed to perdition, call to your aid Sheytan and Nedurè.' + +"Ayesha had hardly uttered these words when Stoyan, having made a +sign to his companions to keep back, rode boldly up to where the +chiefs were standing, and, when a few steps from Ayesha, he curbed +his foaming steed, that, unable to brook control, began at once to +paw the ground. + +"'Maiden,' said he, bowing, 'I am here at thy behest. I have this +night had a strange dream. A _Vila_ appeared to me in my sleep, first +in the likeness of a nightingale and then in the shape of a dainty, +glittering little snake. She told me that for your sake I had to +accomplish, this very day, two mighty deeds of justice. The one was +to rid this neighbourhood of the evil doings of Nedurè, the powerful +witch. This is already done.' + +"Thereupon, loosening a silken scarf attached to his saddle, he threw +the sorceress's head at the _Dizdar_'s feet. + +"'Now,' said he, turning to Velagic, 'you who have been her +accomplice--you who brag to have killed three hundred Christians, +who, while skulking away like a cur, dare to say that you have been +looking everywhere for me, to slay me--here I am.' + +"Appalled at the sight of the witch's hideous head, terrified by the +hero's words, shaking like an aspen leaf, full of dread and +consternation, Velagic looked up at his companions for help; but on +their faces he saw nothing but angry scowls, looks of scorn and +hatred. + +"'Fight,' cried the _Aga_, 'or a worse death awaits thee, the +ignominious death of a murderer and a sorcerer! Fight, coward, fight! +for if thou fallest not by that brave man's hand, thou shalt this +very day be impaled as a wizard.' + +"The _Dizdar_, seeing that there was no escape, plucked up his +courage in his own defence, called the powers of darkness to his +help, and unexpectedly rushed upon Stoyan, hoping to catch him off +his guard, and to despatch him with a treacherous blow of his +scimitar. + +"'Fair play! fair play!' shouted the chiefs. + +"'The laws of chivalry, gentleman, are not expected to be known by a +vile recreant like Ibrahim Velagic,' quoth Stoyan, whose keen eye +forthwith saw the stroke, and whose deft hand not only parried it, +but dealt his adversary such a mighty blow that it cut off the +_Dizdar_'s head and sent it rolling on the ground by the side of +Nedurè's. + +"'And now, beautiful maiden, the task you have enjoined me is done; +would to God thou hadst called upon me before.' + +"'I thank thee, gentle knight,' said Ayesha, who all the time had +been standing on the parapet of the old stone bridge. 'Thou hast +avenged my lover's death; may Heaven reward thee for thy deed.' + +"'_Allah, bismillah!_' cried out the chiefs. + +"Thereupon Stoyan, bowing courteously, wheeled round his horse and, +galloping away, was soon out of sight. + +"'And now,' said Ayesha, 'I had sworn to Hussein, that flower of +youth and beauty, to be his for ever. Now I shall keep my vow. May +the Most Merciful unite me to my lover. God of my fathers, God of +Mohamed, receive me amongst the blessed.' + +"Thereupon, lifting a small dagger which she held in her hand, she +plunged it into her heart, and before her father had time to rush up +to her, she had fallen into the torrent underneath, dyeing its waters +of a crimson hue, just as the last rays of the sinking sun seemed to +tinge in blood the lofty tops of the Veli-Berdo. + +"From that day the Bridge of the Two Torrents has ever been called +the Bullin-Most, or the Bridge of the Turkish Maiden, and every +evening, when the day is fine, the sun sheds a blood-red light on the +highest peaks of the Dinara, and the wind that, at gloaming, blows +down the dell and through the arches of the bridge, seems to waft +back an echo of the last moan of the _Aga_'s beautiful daughter." + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +SEXAGESIMA + + +The days that followed the departure of the _pobratim_ were sad ones +indeed. The Zwillievics had gone back to Montenegro; then Milena, not +having any excuse to remain longer a guest of the Bellacics, was +obliged to go back with a sinking heart to her lonely, out-of-the-way +cottage; a dreary house which had never been a home to her. + +When the Christmas snow had melted away, a sudden strong gale of wind +dried up the sods, so that the grass everywhere was withered and +scorched; the very rocks themselves looked lean, pinched-up, bare and +sharp. All nature had put on a wizened, wolfish, wintry appearance. +The weather was not only cold, it was bleak and gloomy. + +After a fortnight of a dull, overcast sky, it began to drizzle; +everything smelt of mildew; the mouldy turf oozed with moisture, the +rotting trees dripped with dampness. The world was decaying. If at +times a ray of sunlight pierced the grey clouds, its pale yellow, +languid light brought with it neither warmth nor comfort. Evidently +the sun was pining away, dying; our bereaved planet was moaning for +the loss of his life-giving light. + +During all this time the dull sirocco never ceased to blow, either in +a low, unending wail, or in louder and more fitful blasts. Usually, +as soon as one gust had passed away, a stronger one came rolling down +the mountain side, increasing in sound as it drew nearer; then +passing, it died away in the distance. + +These booming blasts made every mother think of her sailor boy, +tossed far away on the raging mountain waves; wives lighted candles +to St. Nicholas, for the safety of their husbands; whilst the girls +thought of their lovers by day, and at night they dreamt continually +of flowers, babies, stagnant waters, white grapes, lice and other +such omens of ill-luck. + +For poor, forlorn Milena, those days were like the murky morning +hours that follow a night of revelry. She was dull, down-hearted, +dispirited; nor had she, indeed, anything to cheer her up. In her +utter solitude, she spun from the moment she got up to the moment she +went to bed; interrupting herself only to eat a crust of bread and +some olives, or else to mope listlessly. At times, however, her +loneliness, and the utter stillness of her house, oppressed her in +such a way that it almost drove her to distraction. + +She mused continually over all the events of her life during the last +months, after her merry girlhood had come to an end by that hateful +and hasty marriage of hers; she recalled to mind that time of misery +with her old miserly mother-in-law, who even counted the grains of +parched Indian-corn she ate. Still, soon after this old dame's death, +came that fated St. John's Eve. It was the first ray of sunlight in +the gloom of her married life. It was also the first time she had +seen Uros. + +She had not fallen in love with him that evening; she had only liked +him because he was good-looking and his ways were so winning. +Everybody was fond of him, he was so winsome. + +Little by little, after that, his presence began to haunt her, his +face was always before her eyes. When she woke in the morning, his +name was on her lips. Still, that was not love; she even fancied she +only liked to teaze him because she was a married woman, a matron, +whilst he was but a boy; moreover, he was so shy. + +When Radonic came home, she woke to the stern reality of life; she at +last found out that she hated her husband and loved Uros, who, though +a boy, was, withal, older than herself. That was the time when +Radonic's rage being roused by Vranic, he had almost killed Milenko. +Then, lastly, shuddering and appalled, she remembered that night when +Uros came to sing his farewell song. + +She stopped spinning now; the corners of her pretty, childish mouth +were drawn down; she hid her face between her hands, whilst the tears +trickled slowly through her fingers. + +Why had she been so foolishly weak? Now the thought of that night +drove her mad. Could she but blot away the past months and begin life +anew! + +Alas! what was done could never be undone. She rocked herself on her +stool in a brown study. What was she to do? What was to become of +her? + +Radonic would return in a few months; then he would kill her. That, at +least, would put a stop to her misery. But the thought of having to +live for months in mortal dread was worse than death itself. The +maddest thoughts came to her mind. She would leave Budua, dress up as +a boy, go off to Cattaro, embark for some distant town. And then? + +Far away the people spoke a gibberish she could not understand, and +they were heathens, who even ate meat on fast-days. These thoughts, +in her loneliness, were almost driving her to distraction, when, +unexpectedly, her husband came back home. His ship, in a tempest, had +been dashed against a reef, off the shores of Ustica, the westernmost +of the Æolian Islands. Not only the vessel, but also the cargo, and +even two sailors, were lost. + +On seeing her husband appear before her, Milena felt all her blood +freeze within her veins. She had disliked Radonic from the very first +moment she had cast her eyes upon him; since her marriage her +antipathy had increased with his ill-treatment, so that now she +positively loathed him. + +Still, when the first moment of almost insurmountable dread was over, +she heaved a deep sigh of relief. His return was a godsend to her. +Had he not just come in time to save her from ignominy? She even +mastered herself so far as to make Radonic believe that she was glad +to see him, that she was longing for his return, and for a while he +believed it. Still, when his mouth was pressed on hers, as he clasped +her fondly in his arms, the kiss he gave her now was even worse than +the first one she had received from him on her wedding-day. It seemed +as if he had seared her lips with burning, cauterising steel. After a +day or two, she could not keep up this degrading comedy any longer; +her whole being revolted against it in such a way that Radonic +himself could not help noticing how obnoxious his presence was to +her. + +She was, however, glad about one thing. Her husband, having lost his +large vessel and all his costly cargo, for he had of late been +trading on his own account, would not be able to settle down in +Budua, as he had intended doing; then, being now quite poor, people +would not be envying her any more. What good had her husband's riches +done to her? None at all. + +Even in that she was doomed to disappointment. The widow of one of +the sailors who had got drowned at Ustica came to beg for a pittance. +She had several little children at home clamouring for bread. Milena +gave her some flour and some oil, and promised to speak to her +husband. + +"But," said she, "we, too, are very poor now." + +"Poor!" replied the woman. "Why, you are richer now than you ever +were." + +"How, if we've lost our ship with all its cargo?" + +"Yes, but it was insured." + +"Insured? What's that?" + +"You mustn't ask me, for I'm only a poor ignorant woman. Only they +say that when a ship is insured, you get far more money for it than +it was ever really worth." + +"And who is to give you money for a few planks rotting at the bottom +of the sea, or some stray spars washed ashore?" asked Milena, +incredulously. + +"Who? Ah! that's more than I can tell. Anyhow, I know it's true, for +all that." + +Milena, astonished, stared at the poor woman. She asked herself +whether grief had not muddled the widow's brain. No, she did not look +insane. + +"Who told you such foolish things, my poor Stosija?" said she, +enquiringly, after a while; "for you know very well that you are +speaking nonsense." + +"It is no nonsense, for the _pop_ himself told me." + +Milena's bewilderment increased. + +"Moreover, the priest added that insurances are one of the many +sacrilegious inventions which lead men to perdition." Then, lowering +her voice to a whisper: "They have a pact with Satan." + +Milena drew back appalled. + +"When a ship is insured the owners care very little what becomes of +the precious lives they have on board. The captains themselves get +hardened. They do not light any more tapers to St. Nicholas to send +them prosperous gales; the priests offer no more prayers for their +safety; and, as for silver _ex-votos_, why, no one thinks of them any +more. The _pop_ is so angry that he says, if he had his own way, he'd +excommunicate every captain, even every sailor, embarking on an +insured ship." + +"Mercy on us!" quoth Milena, crossing herself repeatedly. + +"In fact, since all these new-fangled, heathenish inventions, you +hear of nothing but fires on land and shipwrecks at sea. People once +went to bed as soon as it was dark; at eight o'clock every fire and +every light was put out. Now, people will soon be turning night into +day, as they do in Francezka and Vnetci (Venice), flying thus in the +very face of God Himself. Now all the rotten ships are sent to sea, +where they founder at the very first storm. It isn't true, perhaps?" + +"Aye, it must be true," sighed Milena, "if the _pop_ says so." + +"Once fires and shipwrecks were sent as punishments to the wicked, or +as trials to the good; now, with the insurances, God Himself has been +deprived of His scourge. The wicked prosper, the rich grow richer, +and as for the poor--even the Virgin Mary and all the saints turn a +deaf ear to them." + +Milena shook her head despondingly. + +"For instance," continued Stosija, "would the miser's heart ever have +been touched, had his barns been insured." + +"What miser?" asked Milena. + +"Is it possible that you don't know the story of 'Old Nor and the +Miser'?" + +"Oh! it's a story," added Milena, disappointed. + +"Yes, it's a story, but it's true for all that, for it happened at +Grohovo, and my grandfather, who was alive at that time, knew both +the miser and the idiot. Well, the miser--who had as much money as +his trees had leaves, and that is more than he could count--was one +day brewing _rakee_, when an old man, who lived on the public +charity, or in doing odd jobs that could be entrusted to him, stopped +at his door. + +"'I smell _rakee_,' said Old Nor" (ninny), "who, by-the-bye, was not +quite such an idiot as he was believed to be. + +"'Oh, you do!' quoth the miser, sneeringly. + +"'Yes,' said Nor, his eyes twinkling and his mouth watering. + +"'And I suppose you'd like to taste some?' + +"'That I should; will you give me a sip?' + +"'Why not?' + +"Thereupon the miser dipped a small ladle in a kettle of boiling +water and offered it to Old Nor. + +"The idiot drank down the hot water without wincing. + +"'It's good, isn't it?' asked the rich man. + +"'Delicious!' and the old man smacked his lips. + +"'It warms the pit of your stomach nicely?' + +"'It even burns it.' + +"'It's rare stuff, I can tell you; will you have some more?' + +"'It's of your own brewing, one can see; I'll have some more.' + +"The miser once more dipped the ladle in the hot water and offered it +again to the beggar, who quaffed the contents unflinchingly. + +"'You see, bad tongues say I'm a miser, but it's all slander; for +when I like a fellow, I'd give him the shirt off my back, and I like +you, Old Nor. Will you have another ladleful?' + +"'Willingly,' and the ninny's eyes flashed. + +"Thereupon he again swallowed up the scalding water, but not a muscle +of his face twitched. + +"'Are you not afraid it'll go to your head, old man?' asked the +miser, mischievously. + +"'Old Nor's head isn't muddled with so little,' added he, scowling. + +"'Then try another cup?' + +"'No,' replied the ninny, shaking his head, 'for to-day I've had +enough. As soon as the _Cesar_' (emperor) 'sends me the money he owes +me, and I marry the Virgin Mary--for that was his craze--I'll give +you something that'll warm the pit of your stomach, too.' + +"Then he turned round and went off without any thanks or wishing the +blessing of God on the miser's dwelling, as he was wont to do. + +"The miser's house was all surrounded by sheds, storehouses and +stables; barns groaning under the weight of corn, hay and straw; his +sacks were heaped with flour and wheat; his cellars overflowed with +wine and oil; in his dairies you could have bathed in milk, for he +neither lacked cows, nor sheep, nor goats. Well, not long after the +beggar had been scalded with hot water, a fire broke out in his +granaries at night, and all the wealth that was stored therein was +wasted by fire. + +"The miser grieved and lamented, but he soon had masons and +bricklayers come from all around, and in a short time they built him +finer stables, sheds and stores than the old ones; and after the +harvest was gathered, and the aftermath was garnered, and all the +outer buildings were filled, with the grace of God, a terrible fire +broke out one morning, and before the men could bring any help, for +the flames rose fiercely on every side like living springs that have +burst their flood-gates, so that the water poured down upon it only +scattered the fire far around, and the fine new buildings came +crumbling down with a crash, just like houses built upon sand. Then +the miser had new masons and bricklayers, and also architects and +engineers. Soon they built him stately store-houses of stone and +beautiful barns of bricks, higher, vaster and stronger than the +former ones. These granaries were like palaces, and a wonder in the +land. When the fruits of the field were gathered and the heart of the +miser was rejoiced at the sight of so much wealth, then, in the +middle of the day, as he was seated at table eating cakes overflowing +with honey, and quaffing down bumpers of wine, then the fire broke +out in his barns, and, behold, his buildings looked like a dreadful +dragon spouting and spurting sparks of fire, and vomiting out volumes +of smoke and flames. It was, indeed, a terrible sight. + +"The rich man saw at last that the hand of God was weighing upon him, +and he felt himself chastened. He cast about for some time, not +knowing what to do. So he took a fat calf and two lambs and a kid, +and killed them; and he cooked them; and he baked bread; and he +invited all his acquaintances, rich and poor, to a feast, where he +spared neither wine nor _slivovitz_; and he did not scald their +throats with hot water, but with his own strong _rakee_. Then, when +they had all eaten and were merry, he said to them: + +"'The Lord, in His mercy, has scourged me--for whom the Lord loveth +He chasteneth--He has given me a warning and a foretaste of what +might be awaiting me hereafter. Therefore, I am humbled, and I +submit; but if God has chosen any one among you to chastise me, +kindly tell me, and I swear, on my soul, on the Cross of our Saviour, +Who died for our sins, not only never to harm him, but to forgive him +freely.' + +"Thereupon Old Nor rose and said: + +"'_Gospod_, it is I who have burnt down your barns. One day I passed +by your door and begged you for a draught of the liquor you were +brewing; then you offered me scalding water, and when I gulped it +down you laughed at me because you thought me witless. Three times +did I drink down the fiery water you offered me; three times did I +consume with fire all the barns that surround your house. Still, I +only made you see, but not taste, fire, for I might have burned you +down in your house, like a rat in his hole, and then the pit of your +stomach would have been warm indeed; but I did not do so, because I +am Old Nor, and the little children jibe and the big children jeer at +me, and all laugh and make mouths at me.' + +"The rich man bowed down his head, rebuked. Then he stretched out his +arms and clasped the beggar to his breast, saying: + +"'Brother, you are, after all, a better and a wiser man than I am, +for if I was wicked to you, it was only out of sheer wantonness.' + +"Then he plied him, not with warm water, but with sparkling wine and +strong _slivovitz_, and sent him home jolly drunk. From that time he +mended his ways, gave pence to the poor, presents to the _pop_, +candles and incense to the Church. Therefore, he was beloved by all +who knew him, his barns groaned again with the gifts of God, his +flocks and his herds increased by His blessings. + +"Now, tell me. If the insurance company had paid him for the damage +every time his barns had been burnt, would he have been happy with +his ill-gotten wealth? No; his heart might have been hardened, and +Satan at last have got possession of his soul." + +That evening Milena referred to her husband all that Stosija had said +to her. Radonic scowled at his wife, and then he grunted: + +"The _pop_--like all priests, in fact--is a drivelling old idiot; so +he had better mind his own business, that is, mumble his meaningless +prayers, and not meddle with what he doesn't understand." + +"What! is there anything a _pop_ doesn't understand?" asked Milena, +astonished. + +Radonic laughed. + +"Oh! he'll soon see something that'll make his jaw fall and his eyes +start from their sockets." + +"And what's that?" + +"A thing which you yourself won't believe in--a ship without masts." + +"And what are its sails tied to?" + +"It needs no sails; it has only a big chimney, a black funnel, that +sends forth clouds of smoke, flames and sparks; then, two tremendous +wheels that go about splashing and churning the water into a mass of +beautiful spray, with a thundering noise; then, every now and then, +it utters a shrill cry that is heard miles away." + +"Holy Virgin!" gasped Milena; "but it must be like Svet Gjorgje's +dragon!" + +"Oh!" sneered Radonic, "St. George's dragon was but a toy to it." + +"And where have you seen this monster?" + +"It isn't a monster at all; it's a steamer. I saw one on my last +voyage. It came from the other side of the world, from that country +where the sun at midday looks just like a burnished copper plate." + +"Of course," added Milena, nodding, "if it's on the other side of the +earth, they can only see the sun after it's set. But where is that +place of darkness? Is it Kitay?" + +"Oh, no! it's Englezka." + +"But to return to what the _pop_ said. Then it's true that you'll get +more money for your ship even than what it was worth?" + +"Whether I get more or whether I get less, I'm not going to keep all +the beggars of the town with the money the insurance company will +give me. If sailors don't want their wives to go begging and their +brats to starve, they can insure their lives, or not get married. As +for Stosija, you can tell her to go to the _pop_, and not come +bothering here; though I doubt whether a priest will even say a +prayer for you without the sight of your money. Anyhow, to-morrow I +start for Cattaro, where I hope to settle the insurance business." + +On the morrow Radonic went off, and Milena heaved a deep sigh of +relief; for, although the utter loneliness in which she lived was at +times unbearable to her, still it was better than her husband's +unkindness. + +Alas! no sooner had Radonic started than Vranic came with his odious +solicitations, for nothing would discourage that man. In her +innocence she could rely on her strength, so she had spurned him from +her. She had till then never been afraid of any man. Was she not a +Montenegrin? She had, in many a skirmish, not only loaded her +father's guns, but also fired at the Turks herself; nor had she ever +missed her man. Still, since that fateful night all her courage was +gone. Was Vranic not a seer, a man who could peer into his fellow +creatures as if they were crystal? Did he not know that she had +sinned? He had told her that all her struggles were unavailing; she +was like the swallow when the snake fascinates it. She, therefore, +had been cowed down to such a degree that she almost felt herself +falling into his clutches. + +Not knowing what to do, she had gone to Mara, and had confessed part +of her troubles to her; she had asked her for help against Vranic. +Although Uros' mother did not dabble in witchcraft, still she was a +woman with great experience. So she thought for a while, and then she +gave Milena a tiny bit of red stuff, and told her to wear it under +her left arm-pit; it was the most powerful spell she knew of, and +people could not harm her as long as she wore it. She followed Mara's +advice; but Vranic was a seer, and such simples were powerless +against him. + +Radonic came back from Cattaro, and, by his humour, things must have +gone on well for him; still, strange to say, he brought no money back +with him. He only said he had put his money in a bank, so that he +might get interest for it, till such times when he should buy another +ship. + +"And what is a bank?" asked Milena, astonished. + +Radonic shrugged his shoulders, and answered peevishly, that she was +too stupid to understand such things. "Montenegrins," he added, "have +no banks, nor any money to put in banks; they only know how to fight +against the Turks." + +For a few days Milena asked all her acquaintances what a bank was, +and at last she was informed that it was like insurances, one of +those modern inventions made to enrich the rich. Putting money in a +bank was like sinking a deep well. After that you were not only +supplied for your lifetime, but your children and the children of +your children were then provided for; for who can drink the water of +a well and dry it up? + +For Milena, all these things were wonders which she could not +understand. She only sighed, and thought that Stosija was right when +she had said to her that this world was for the wealthy; the poor +were nowhere, not even in church. + +Although Radonic had come back, still Vranic, far from desisting from +his suit, became always more pressing; for he seemed quite sure that +she would never speak to her husband against him. Once more she went +to Mara and asked her for advice. + +"Why not mention the subject to your husband?" asked her friend. + +"First, I dare not; then, it would be quite useless. He would not +believe me; Vranic has him entirely under his power. In fact, I am +quite sure if Radonic is unbearable, it is the seer who sets him on +to bait me." + +"But to what purpose?" + +"Because he thinks that, sooner or later, I'll be driven to despair, +and find myself at his mercy. Though I'm no seer myself, still I see +through him." + +Withal Uros' mother was a woman of great experience, still, she could +not help her friend; she only comforted her in a motherly way, and +her heart yearned for her. + +As Milena, weary and dejected, was slowly trudging homewards, she +saw, not far from her house, a small animal leisurely crossing a +field. Was it a cat? She stood stock-still for a moment and stared. +Surely, it was neither a hare, nor a rabbit, nor a dog. It was a big, +dark-coloured cat! How her heart began to beat at that sight! + +At that moment she forgot that it was almost dusk, that the days were +still short, that the light was vanishing fast. She forgot that it +would be very disagreeable meeting Vranic--always lurking +thereabout--that her husband would soon be coming home. In fact, +forgetting everything and everybody, she began running after the cat, +which scampered off the moment it saw her. Still, the quicker the cat +ran, the quicker Milena went after it. + +Of course, she knew quite well, as you and I would have known, that +the cat was no cat at all, for real pussies are quiet, home-loving +pets, taking, at most, a stroll on the pantiles, but never go roaming +about the fields as dogs are sometimes apt to do. + +That cat, of course, was a witch--not a simple _baornitza_, but a +real sorceress, able to do whatever she chose to put her hand to. + +The nimble cat ran with the speed of a stone hurled from a sling, and +Milena, panting, breathless, stumbling every now and then, ran after +it with all her might. Several times the fleet-footed animal +disappeared; still, she was not disheartened, but ran on and came in +sight of it after some time. At last, she saw the cat run straight +towards a distant cottage. Milena slackened her speed, then she +stopped to look round. + +The cottage was built on a low muddy beach. She remembered having +been in that lonely spot once before with Uros; she had seen the +strand all covered with bloated bluish medusas, melting away in the +sun. + +With a beating heart and quivering limbs Milena stopped on the +threshold of the hut, and looked about her for the cat. The door was +ajar; perhaps it had gone in. For a moment she hesitated whether she +should turn on her heels and run off or enter. + +A powerful witch like that could, all at once, assume the most +horrible shape, and frighten her out of her wits! + +As she stood there, undecided as to what she was to do, the door +opened, as if by a sudden blast of wind, and there was no time to +retreat. Milena then, to her surprise, saw an old woman standing in +the middle of the hut. She was quietly breaking sticks and putting +them on a smouldering fire. As for the cat, it was, of course, +nowhere to be seen. + +The old woman, almost bent double by age, turned, and seeing Milena, +smiled. Her face did not express the slightest fear or ill-humour, +nay, she seemed as if she had been expecting her. + +"Good evening, _domlada_," said the old woman, with a most winning +voice, "have you lost your way, or is there anything you want of me?" + +Milena hesitated; had she been spoken to in a rough, disagreeable +manner, she would, doubtless, have been daunted by the thought that +she was putting her soul in jeopardy by having recourse to the witch; +but the woman's voice was so soft and soothing, her words so +encouraging, her ways so motherly, that, getting over her +nervousness, she went in at once, and, almost without knowing it, she +found herself induced to relate all her troubles to this utter +stranger. + +"First, if you want me to help you," said the old woman, "you must +try and help yourself." + +"And how so?" + +"By thinking as little as possible of a handsome youth who is now at +sea." + +Milena blushed. + +"Then you must bear your husband's ill-humour, even his blows, +patiently, and, little by little, get him to understand what kind of +a man Vranic is. Radonic is in love with you; therefore, 'the sack +cannot remain without the twine.' You must not fear Vranic; 'the +place of the uninvited guest is, you know, behind the door.' +Moreover, to protect you against him, I'll give you a most powerful +charm." + +Saying this, she went to a large wooden chest and got out of it a +little bag, which she handed to Milena. + +"In it," whispered the old woman, mysteriously, "there is some hair +of a wolf that has tasted human flesh, the claw of a rabid old cat, a +tiny bit of a murdered man's skull, a few leaflets of rue gathered on +St. John's Night under a gibbet, and some other things. It is a +potent spell; still, efficient as it is, you must help it in its +work." + +Milena promised the old woman to be guided entirely by her advice. + +"Remember never to give way to Vranic in the least, for, even with my +charm, if you listen to him you might become his prey. You must not +do like the dove did." + +"And what did the dove do?" + +"What! don't you know? Well, sit down there, and I'll tell you." + +"But I'm afraid I'll be troubling you." + +"Not at all; besides, I'll prepare my soup while I chat." + +"Still, I'm afraid my husband might get home and not find me; then----" + +"Then you'll keep him a little longer at the inn." + +Saying these words, the witch threw some vegetables in the pot +simmering on the hob, and on the fire something like a pinch of salt, +for at once the wood began to splutter and crackle; after that, she +went to the door and looked out. + +"See how it pours!" said she. "Radonic will have to wait till the +rain is over." + +Milena shuddered and crossed herself; she was more than ever +convinced that the old woman was a mighty sorceress who had command +over the wind and the rain. + +"Well," began the _stari-mati_, "once a beautiful white dove had +built her nest in a large tree; she laid several eggs, hatched them, +and had as many lovely dovelets. One day, a sly old fox, passing +underneath, began leering at the dove from the corner of his eye, as +old men ogle pretty girls at windows. The dove got uneasy. Thereupon, +the fox ordered the bird to throw down one of her young ones. 'If you +don't, I swear by my whiskers to climb up the tree and gobble you +down, you ----, and all your young ones.' + +"The poor dove was in sore trouble, and, quaking with fear, seeing the +fox lay its front paws on the trunk of the tree, she, flurried as she +was, caught one of her little ones by its neck and threw it down. The +fox made but a mouthful of it, grumbling withal that it was such a +meagre morsel. + +"'Mind and fatten those that are left, for I'll call again to-morrow, +and if the others are only skin and bones, as the little scarecrow +you've thrown me down is, you'll have, at least, to give me two.' + +"The fox went off. The poor dove remained in her nest, mourning over +her lost little one, and shuddering as she thought of the morrow. +Just then another bird happened to perch above the branch where the +dove had her nest. + +"'I say, dove,' said the other bird, 'what's up, that you are cooing +in such a dreary, disconsolate way?' + +"The dove thereupon related all that had happened. + +"'Oh, you simpleton! oh, you fool!' quoth the other bird, 'how could +you have been so silly as to believe the sly old fox? You ought to +have known that foxes cannot climb trees; therefore, when he comes +to-morrow, ordering you to throw him down a couple of your little +ones, just you tell him to come up himself and get them.' + +"The day after, when the fox came for his meal, the dove simply +answered: + +"'Don't you wish you may get it!' + +"And the dove laughed in her sleeve to see the fox look so sheepish. + +"'Who told you that?' said Reynard; 'you never thought of it +yourself, you are too stupid.' + +"'No,' quoth the dove, 'I did not. The bird that has built her nest +by the sedges near the river told it me.' + +"'So,' said the fox; and he turned round and went off to the bird +that had built her nest by the river sedges, without even saying +ta-ta to the dove. He soon found her out. + +"'I say, bird, what made you build your nest in such a breezy spot?' +said the fox, with a twinkling eye. + +"'Oh! I don't mind the wind,' said the bird. 'For instance, when it +blows from the north-east, I put my head under my left wing, like +this." + +"Thereupon, the bird put its head under its left wing, and peeped at +the fox with its right eye. + +"'And when it blows from the south-west?' asked the fox. + +"'Then I do the contrary.' + +"And the bird put its head under its right wing, and peeped at the +fox with its left eye. + +"'And when it blows from every side of the compass at once?' + +"'It never does,' said the bird, laughing. + +"'Yes it does; in a hurricane.' + +"'Then I cover my head with both my wings, like this.' + +"No sooner had the poor bird buried her head under both her wings, +than the sly old fox jumped at her, and ate her up. + +"But," said the witch, finishing her story, "if you are like the +dove, I'm not like the bird of the sedges; and Vranic would find me +rather tough to eat me up. And now, hurry home, my dear; if ever you +want me again, you know where to find me." + +The rain had ceased, and Milena, thanking the old woman for her +kindness, went off. She had been back but a few minutes when Radonic +returned home, ever so much the worse for drink. Not finding any +supper ready, he at first began to grumble; then, little by little, +thinking himself very ill-used, he got into a tremendous rage. Having +reached this paroxysm of wrath, he set to smash all the crockery that +he could lay his hands on, whilst Milena, terrified, went and shut +herself up in the next room, and peeped at him through the keyhole. + +When he had broken a sufficient number of plates and dishes, he felt +vexed at having vented his rage in such a foolish way, then to pity +himself at having such a worthless wife, who left him without supper, +and growing sentimental, he began to groan and hiccough and curse, +till he at last rolled off the stool on which he had been rocking +himself, and went to sleep on the floor. + +On the morrow the husband was moody, the wife sad; neither of them +spoke or looked at the other. The whole of that day, Milena--in her +loneliness--revolved within her mind what she would do to get rid of +Vranic's importunities, and, above all, how she could prevent him +from harming Uros, as he had threatened to do. + +The day passed away slowly; in the evening Radonic came home more +drunk than he had ever been, therefore maliciously angry and +spiteful. + +The front room of the house, like that of almost all other cottages, +was a large but dark and dismal-looking chamber, pierced with several +small windows, all thickly grated; the ceiling was raftered, and +pieces of smoked mutton, wreaths of onions, bundles of herbs, and +other provisions dangled down from hooks, or nails, driven in nearly +every beam. As in all country-houses, the hearth was built in the +very midst of this room, and the smoke, curling upwards, found an +outlet from a hole in the roof. That evening, as it was pouring and +blowing, the gusts of wind and rain prevented the smoke from finding +its way out. + +Milena was seated on a three-legged stool at a corner of the hearth, +by a quaint, somewhat prehistoric, kind of earthenware one-wick +oil-lamp, which gave rather less light than our night-lamps usually +do, though it flickered and sputtered and smoked far more. She was +sewing a very tiny bit of a rag, but she took much pride in it, for +every now and then she looked at it with the fond eyes of a girl +sewing her doll's first bodice. Hearing her husband's step on the +shingle just outside, she started to her feet, thrust the rag away, +looking as if she had almost been caught doing something very guilty. +After that she began mixing the soup boiling in the pot with great +alacrity. + +Radonic was not a handsome man at the best of times, but now, +besotted by drink, shuffling and reeling, he was positively +loathsome. He stopped for a moment on the sill to look at his wife, +grinning at her in a half-savage, half-idiotic way. + +Milena shuddered when she saw him, and turned her eyes away. He +evidently noticed the look of horror she cast on him, for holding +himself to the door-post with one hand, he shook the other at her, in +his increasing anger. + +"What have you been doing all the day?--gadding about, or sitting on +the door-step to beckon to the youths who pass by?" he said, in a +thick, throaty voice, interrupted every now and then with a drunken +hiccough. Then he let go the door-post and shuffled in. + +"A fine creature, a very fine creature, a slut, a good-for-nothing +slut, not worth the salt she eats! You hear, madam? you hear, +darling? it's to you I'm speaking." + +Milena stood pale, awe-stricken, twisting the fringe of her apron +round her fingers, looking at him with amazement. It was certainly +not the first time in her life that she had seen a drunken man; +still, she had never known anyone so fiendish when tipsy. + +"A nice kind of woman for a fellow to marry," he went on, "a thing +that stands twisting her fingers from morning to night, but who +cannot find time to prepare a little supper for a hungry man, in the +evening." Then, with a grunt: "What have you been doing the whole of +the live-long day?" + +Milena did not answer. + +"I say, will you speak? by the Virgin, will you speak? or I'll slap +that stupid sallow face of yours till I make it red with your blood." + +Milena did try to answer, but the words stuck in her throat and would +not come out. Radonic thought she was defying him. + +"Ah, you'll not answer! You were fooling about the town, or sitting +at the window eating pumpkin seeds, waiting for the dogs that pass to +admire those meaningless eyes of yours. They are dark, it's true, but +I'll make them ten times darker." + +Thereupon he made a rush at her, but, swift-footed as she was, she +ran on the opposite side of the room. She glanced at the door, but he +had shut and bolted it, therefore--being afraid that he might be upon +her before she managed to open it--she only kept running round the +hearth, waiting till chance afforded her some better way of escape. + +He ran after her for some time, but, drunk and asthmatic as he was, +he stopped at last, irritated by his non-success. Vexed at seeing a +faint smile on her lips, he took up a plate, that had been spared +from the day before, and shied it at her. She was too quick for him, +for she deftly moved aside, and the plate was smashed against an +oaken press. + +He gnashed his teeth with rage and showed her his fists; then he bent +down, picked up a log, and flourished it wildly about. She at once +made for the door. He flung the piece of wood at her with all his +might. She once more stooped to avoid it, but, in her eagerness to +get out, she was this time rather flurried; moreover, the missile +hurled at her was, this time, much bigger than the former one, so +that the log just caught her at the back of her head. She uttered a +shrill cry, and fell on the ground in a death-like swoon. + +Radonic, seeing Milena fall, thought he had killed her. He felt at +that moment such a terrible fright that it seemed to him as if a +thunderbolt had come down upon him. + +He grew deathly pale, his jaw fell, he began to tremble from head to +foot, just as when he had a fit of the ague. His teeth chattered, his +knees were broken, his joints relaxed. He had never in his whole life +felt such a fright. In a moment his drunkenness seemed to vanish, and +he was again in his senses. + +"Milena," said he, in a faint, quivering, moaning tone. "Milena, my +love!" + +She did not answer, she did not move; to all appearance she was dead. + +The muscles of his throat were twitching in such a way that he almost +fancied someone had stabbed him through the neck. + +Was she now worth her salt to him? he asked himself bitterly; aye, he +would give all his money to bring her back to life if he only could. + +He wanted to go up to her, but his feet seemed rooted to the spot +where he stood; with widely opened eyes he stared at the figure lying +motionless on the floor. Was the blood trickling from her head? A +moment afterwards he was kneeling down by her side, lifting her up +tenderly; for, brute as he was, he loved her. + +She was not dead, for her heart was beating still. Her head was +bleeding; but the cut was very slight, hardly skin deep. He began to +bathe her face with water, and tried to recall her to her senses. +Still her fainting-fit, owing, perhaps, to the state of her health, +lasted for some time; and those moments of torture seemed for him +everlasting. + +At last Milena opened her eyes; and seeing her husband's face bent +close upon hers, she shuddered, and tried to free herself from his +arms. + +"_Ljuba_," said Radonic, "forgive me. I was a brute; but I didn't +mean to harm you." + +"It's a pity you didn't kill me; then there would have been an end to +this wretched life of mine." + +"Do you hate me so very much?" + +"Have I any reason to love you?" + +"Forgive me, my love. I've been drinking to-night; and when the wine +gets to my head, then I know I'm nasty." + +"No, you hate me, and I know why." + +"Why?" + +"Vranic sets you against me; and when your anger is roused, and your +brain muddled, you come and want to kill me." + +Radonic did not reply. + +"But rather than torture me as you do, kill me at once, to please +your friend." + +Milena stopped for an instant; then she began again, in a lower tone: + +"And that man is doubtless there, behind that door, listening to all +that has happened." + +Radonic ground his teeth, clenched his fists, snorted like a +high-mettled horse, started up, and would have rushed to the door had +Milena not prevented him. + +"No," said she, "do not be so rash. Abide your time; catch him on the +hip." + +"Why does he hate you?" + +"Can't you guess? Did he not want to marry me?" + +Radonic groaned. + +"Oh! it would not be a difficult matter to turn Vranic into a friend; +but I prefer being beaten by you than touched by that fiend." + +Radonic started like a mad bull; and, not knowing what to do, he gave +the table such a mighty thump that he nearly shivered it. + +"Listen! Yesterday, when you had rolled on the floor, and were +sleeping away your drunken rage----" + +"Then?" + +"I went to sit on the doorstep----" + +"Well, go on." + +"A moment afterwards Vranic was standing in front of me." + +The husband's eyes flashed with rage. + +"Knowing that you would not wake, he begged me to let him come in. He +saw me wretched and forlorn; he would comfort me." + +"You lie!" He hissed these words out through his set teeth, and +caught hold of her neck to throttle her. Then, all at once, he turned +his mad rage against himself, and thumped his head with all his +strength, exclaiming: + +"Fool, fool, fool that I am!" Then, after a short silence, and with a +sullen look: "And you, what did you do?" + +"I got up, came in, and slammed the door in his face." + +Radonic caught his wife in his arms, and kissed her. + +"Tell me one thing more. Where were you yesterday evening?" + +She smiled. + +"Where do you think I was? Well, I'll tell you, because you'll never +guess. I was at the witch's, who lives down there by the sea shore." + +"What for?" + +"Because I'm tired of this life. I went to ask her for a charm +against your bosom friend." + +"And what can a foolish old woman do for you?" said the husband, +trying to put on a sceptical look. + +"I have not been all over the world as you have; still, I know that +our blood also is red." + +"And what did the _baornitza_ tell you?" + +"That a flowing beard is but a vain ornament when the head is light." + +Radonic shrugged his shoulders and tried not to wince. + +"Besides, she gave me this charm;" and showing him her amulet, she +begged him to wear it for a few days. "It will not do you any harm; +wear it for my sake, even if you don't believe in it," she pleaded +softly. + +Radonic yielded, and allowed Milena to fasten the little bag round +his neck, looking deep into her beautiful eyes uplifted towards his. +She blushed, feeling the fire of his glances. + +"And now," added she, with a sigh of relief, "he'll break his viper's +fangs against that bone, if our proverbs are true." + +Radonic tried to keep up his character of an _esprit-fort_, and said: +"Humbug!" but there was a catch in his voice as he uttered this word. + +"Now, I feel sure that as long as you have this talisman you'll not +open your mouth or reveal a single word of what I've told you." + +"Whom do you take me for?" + +"Yes, but at times our very eyes deceive us; moreover, Vranic is a +man to whom everybody is like glass. He reads your innermost +thoughts." + +"He is sharp; nothing more, I tell you." + +"Anyhow, that is a powerful charm, and if you'll only dissimulate----" + +"Oh! I can be a match for him if I like." + +"You must promise me one thing more." + +"What is it?" + +"No knives; no bloodshed." + +Radonic did not answer for a moment, but cast on Milena an angry +look, his hand seeking the handle of his knife. + +"Will you promise?" + +"Are you so fond of him that you are frightened I'll kill him?" + +"I hate him." + +"Then----" + +"Still, it is no reason to murder him." + +Radonic seemed lost in his own thoughts. + +"Moreover, he is weak and puny, whilst you are made of iron." She +laid her hand on his shoulder. "No knives, then; it's understood?" + +"I promise to use no knife." + +The morrow was a beautiful day; winter seemed already to be waking +from its short sleep. The sun was shining brightly, and as the breeze +was fresh and bracing, his cheerful warmth was pleasant, especially +for people who have to depend upon his rays for their only heat. +Spring seemed already to be at hand, and, in fact, the first violets +and primroses might have been seen glinting in sunny spots. + +Milena was returning from market, and her eyes were wandering far on +the wide expanse of glittering blue waters, but her thoughts, like +fleet halcyons, dived far away into the hazy distance, unfathomable +to the sight itself, and she hummed to herself the following song: + + "A crystal rill I fain would be, + And down the deep dell then I'd go; + Close to his cottage I would flow. + Thus every morn my love I'd see, + Oft to his lips I might be pressed, + And nestle close unto his breast." + +Then she sighed and tried not to think, for hers, indeed, was forlorn +hope. + +All at once she heard someone walking behind her, coming nearer and +nearer. She hastened her steps; still, the person who followed her +walked on quicker. + +"What a hurry you are in, Milena," said Vranic, coming up to her. + +"Oh! is it you?" she replied, with feigned surprise; then she +shuddered, thinking that she had not her amulet, and was at the mercy +of this artful man. "You frightened me." + +"Dear me, I'm afraid I'm always frightening you! Still, believe me, +I'd give my soul to the devil for one of your smiles, for a good word +from you, Milena." + +She shrugged her shoulders. + +"Children are deceived with cakes, women with sweet words, they say." + +He cast a sidelong glance at her. + +"You don't look well, to-day; you are pale." + +"Am I?" + +"Yes; what's the matter?" + +"How can I look well, with that brute of a husband of mine?" + +"Ah, yes! he got home rather the worse for drink yesterday evening, +didn't he?" + +"You ought to know; you were with him." + +"Well, yes, I was; at least, part of the evening." + +"And when he was as mad as a wild bull, you sent him home to me, +didn't you?" + +"I?" + +"Vranic, when will you finish persecuting me? What have I done to +you?" + +"Milena, it is true I am bad; but is it my fault? has not the world +made me what I am? Why have I not a right to my share of happiness as +other men?" + +"I am sorry for you, Vranic, but what can I do for you?" + +"You can do whatever you like with me, make me as good as a lamb." + +"How?" + +"Have pity on me; I love you!" + +"How can you say you love me, when you have tried to harm me in every +possible way?" + +"I was jealous; besides, I saw that you hated me, therefore you know +it was my only chance of success. In love and in war all means are +good." + +She shuddered; still, she managed to master herself and hide the +loathing she felt for him. + +"So you thought that, after having driven me to distraction----" + +"I should be your friend in need." + +"Fine friend." Then after a pause: "Anyhow, my present life is such +that, rather than bear it any longer, I'll go and drown myself some +day or other." + +"You'd never do that, Milena." + +"Why not? Therefore, if you care for me ever so little, use your +influence over Radonic, undo your work, get him to be a little less +of a brute than he has been of late." + +"And then you'll laugh at me?" + +"Who does good can expect better," and she tried to look at him less +harshly than she was wont to do, and did not turn her eyes away from +him. + +"No, Milena, first----" + +"What! first the pay, then the work? It would be against the +proverb." + +"Then promise me at least that you will try to love me a little?" + +"No," said she, with a toss of her pretty head, and a smile in her +mischievous, sparkling eyes; "I promise nothing." + +He thereupon took her hand and kissed it, saying: + +"I am making a poor bargain, for I am sure that your heart is empty." + +"If you cannot manage to awaken love in an empty heart, it will be +your fault; besides, you can always be in time to undo your work." + +"How so?" + +"You have me in your power, for Radonic, in your hands, is as pliable +as putty, is he not?" + +"Perhaps!" and the wrinkles of his cheeks deepened into a grim smile. + +"Then let my husband come home a little less cross than he has been +of late, will you?" she said, in a coaxing tone, and her voice had +for him all the sweetness of the nightingale's trill. + +"I'll try," and his blinking, grey-green eyes gloated upon her, +whilst that horrible cast in them made her shiver and feel sick; but +then she thought of Uros, and the idea that his life might be in +danger by the power this man wielded over her husband made her +conceal her real state of feelings and smile upon him pleasantly. + +He put his arm round her waist, and whispered words of love into her +ear, words that seemed to sink deep into her flesh and blister her; +and she felt like a bird, covered over with slime by a snake, before +being swallowed up. + +He, at that moment--withal he was a seer--fancied Milena falling in +his arms; his persevering love had conquered at last. Radonic would +now be sent away to sea again, perhaps never to come back, and he +would remain the undisputed master of Milena's heart. + +"Well, love me a little and I'll change your life from a hell into a +heaven. I'll read your slightest wish in your eyes to satisfy it." + +"Thank you," she said, shuddering, disengaging herself from his +grasp, but feeling herself growing pale. + +"What is the matter, my love?" he asked. + +"Nothing, only I told you I was not feeling well; my husband almost +killed me yesterday." + +"Well, I promise that it'll be the last time he touches you." + +They had now reached the door of her house, and Vranic, after having +renewed his protestations, went off, whilst Milena entered the house +and locked herself in. + +That evening Radonic came home rather earlier than usual. He was +sober, but in a sullen mood, and looked at Milena sheepishly. She set +the supper on the table and waited upon him; when he had finished, +she took the dish and sat down on the hearth to have her meal. + +"Well," quoth Radonic, puffing at his pipe, "have you seen Vranic +to-day?" + +"Yes, I met him when I was coming home from market." + +"Henceforth," said he, "I forbid you going to market again." + +"Very well," said she, meekly. + +"And?" + +"He accompanied me home." + +"And what did he say?" + +"That you were pulpy, therefore he could do with you whatever he +liked." + +"Ah! he said that, did he?" and in his rage Radonic broke his pipe. +"Then?" + +"He would first undo his work, make you as gentle as a lamb, then he +would send you off to sea, and----" + +Radonic muttered a fearful oath between his teeth. + +"Can't you understand? Has he not spoken well of me?" + +"He has, the villain, and it wanted all my patience not to clutch him +by the neck and pluck his vile tongue out of his mouth--but I'll bide +my time." + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +MURDER + + +A few days afterwards Milena heard a low whistle outside, just as if +someone were calling her; the whistling was repeated again and again. +She went to the open door, and she saw Vranic at a distance, +apparently on the watch for her. As soon as he saw her, he beckoned +to her to come out. She stepped on the threshold, and he came up to +her. + +"Good news, eh?" said he. + +"What news?" + +"Has Radonic not opened his mouth to you?" + +"He has hardly said a single word all these days." + +"Impossible!" + +"May I be struck blind if he has!" + +"Strange." + +"Well, but what is it all about?" + +"He told me it was a great secret; still, I did not believe him." + +"But what is this great secret?" + +"He is going off to Montenegro for a day or two, as he has to buy a +cargo of _castradina_. Of course, he'll stay a week; and as soon as +he comes back, he'll start at once on a long voyage." + +"I don't believe it!" + +"Yes, he is; and it's all my own doing. Now you can't say that I +don't love you, Milena, can you?" + +She did not give him any answer. + +"You don't seem glad. Once you'd have been delighted to have a +reprieve from his ill-treatment." + +"Yes, but now he's only moody. He hasn't beaten me for some days." + +"I told you he was as manageable as putty. Like all bullies, you can +shave him without a razor, if you only know how to go about it." + +"Yes; only beware. Such men never keep shape--at least, not for any +length of time." + +"He'll keep shape till he goes, for that's to-morrow; then----" and he +winked at her as he said this. + +"Come, Vranic, be kind for once in your life." + +"Has anybody ever been kind to me?" + +"'Do good, and don't repent having done it; do evil, and expect +evil,' says the proverb." + +"I never do anything for nothing; so to-morrow night I'll come for my +reward." + +"Leave me alone, Vranic; if not for my sake, do it for your own good. +Fancy, if Radonic were to return. Surely you wouldn't shave him quite +as easily as you think." + +"I'll take the risk upon myself. I have lulled all his suspicions, so +that he has now implicit trust in you. Besides, I'll first see him +well out of the town with my own eyes; Vranic is not a seer for +nothing," and he winked knowingly with his blinking eyes. + +"You don't know Radonic: if you are a fox, he is no goose. He is +capable of coming back just to see what I am doing." + +"I think I know him a little better than you do, and a longer time. +We have been friends from childhood; in fact, all but _pobratim_." + +"That's the reason why you are ready to deceive him, then?" + +"What business had he to marry you? What would I not do for your +love, Milena? Why, I'd give my soul to Satan, if he wanted it." + +"I'm afraid it's no longer yours to give away. But come, Vranic, if +you really are as fond of me as you pretend to be, have some pity on +me, be kind; think how wretched my whole life has hitherto been, +leave me alone, forget me." + +"Ask me anything else but that. How can I forget you? How can I +cease loving you, when I live only for you? I only see through your +eyes." + +"Then I'll ask Radonic to take me to Montenegro with him, and I'll +remain with my family." + +"And I'll follow you there. You don't understand all the strength of +my love for you." + +Thereupon, forgetting his usual prudence, he stepped up to her, and +passing his arm round her waist, he strained her to his breast, and +wanted to kiss her. She wriggled and struggled, and tried to push him +away. + +"Unhand me," she said, alarmed; "unhand me at once, or I'll scream." + +"Lot of good it'll do you. Come," he replied, "remember your promise. +I've kept my part, try and keep yours with good grace or----" + +"What?" she asked, alarmed. + +"Or by the holy Virgin, it'll be so much the worse for you! I know----" +he stopped, and then he added: "In fact, I know what I know. +Remember, therefore, it is much better to have Vranic for your friend +than for your foe." + +"Mind, you think me a dove." + +"I only know that women have long hair and little brains. Try and not +be like most of them." + +"Mind, I might for once have more brains than you; therefore, I +entreat you, nay, I command you, not to try and see me to-morrow." + +"As for that, I'll use my own discretion." + +Saying these words, he went off, and left Milena alone. As soon as he +had disappeared, she went in, and sank down on the hearth; there, +leaning her elbows on her knees, she hid her face between her palms; +then she began nursing her grief. + +"They say I am happy," she muttered to herself, "because I am rich +--though I have not a penny that I can call my own--because I can eat +white bread every day. Yet would it not be better by far to be an +animal and graze in the fields, than eat bread moistened with my own +tears? Oh! why was I not born a man? Then, at least, I might have +gone where I liked--done what I pleased. + +"They think I am happy, because no one knows what my life has been; +though, it is true, what is a woman's life amongst us? + +"She toils in the field the whole of the live-long day, whilst her +husband smokes his pipe. She is laden like a beast of burden; she is +yoked to the plough with an ox or an ass, and when they go to pasture +she trudges home with the harness, to nurse the children or attend to +household work. Meanwhile, her master leisurely chats with his +friends at the inns, or listens to the _guzlar_. + +"What is her food? The husks that dogs cannot eat, the bones which +have already been picked. If Turkish women have no souls, they, at +least, are not treated like beasts during their lifetime. + +"Oh! holy Virgin, why was I not born a man?" + +That evening Radonic came home more sullen and peevish than usual; +still, he was sober. He sat down to supper, and Milena waited upon +him. As soon as he had pushed his plate away: + +"Have you seen Vranic to-day?" he asked, gruffly. + +"I have," answered the wife, meekly. + +"Ah, you have!" and he uttered a fearful oath. + +Milena crossed herself. + +"And where have you seen him?" + +"He came here at the door." + +"May he have a fit to-night," he grunted. Then, after a puff at his +pipe: "And what did he say?" + +"That you intended starting to-morrow morning for Montenegro, to buy +_castradina_, and----" + +Radonic gave such a mighty thump on the table that the _bukara_ was +upset. It rolled and fell to the ground before it could be caught. +Milena hastened to pick it up, but the wine was spilt. The husband +thereupon, not knowing how to vent his spite, gave a kick to the poor +woman just as she stooped to pick it up. She slipped and fell +sprawling to the ground, uttering a stifled groan. Then she got up, +deathly pale, and went to sit down in a corner of the room, and began +to cry unperceived. + +"And what did you answer when he told you that I was starting?" + +"I begged him to leave me in peace, and above all not to come +to-morrow evening, if his life was dear to him." + +"Ah! you begged him, did you? Well, if ever man was blessed with a +foolish wife, I am." + +A moment's silence followed, after which he added: + +"What a fool a man is who gets married--above all, a sailor who takes +as his wife a feather-brained creature, as you are. May God hurl a +thunderbolt at me if I'd marry again were I but free." + +Poor Milena did not reply, for she was inured to such taunts, Radonic +being one of those men who pride themselves on speaking out their own +minds. She kept crying quietly--not for the pain she felt, but +because she dreaded the fatal consequences of the kick she had just +received. + +"Will you stop whimpering, or I'll come and give you something to cry +for. It's really beyond all powers of endurance to hear a woman whine +and a pig squeak; if there is a thing that drives me mad, it's that." + +Thereupon Radonic began to puff at his pipe savagely, snarling and +snorting as he smoked. + +"And may I ask why you begged that double-faced, white-livered friend +of yours not to come to-morrow evening?" he asked, after some +minutes. + +"Vranic was never a friend of mine," said Milena, proudly. + +"Admitting he wasn't, still you haven't answered my question; but I +suppose it doesn't suit you to answer, does it?" + +"Why not? I begged him not to come because I was afraid some mischief +might ensue, withal you promised me not to be rash." + +"I promised you, did I? Anyhow, I find that you take a great interest +in this friend of mine, far more than it becomes an honest woman." +Then, with a scowl and a sneer: "If you _are_ honest." + +Milena winced, and grew deathly pale. She did not give her husband +any answer, so he, after grunting and grumbling and smoking for some +time, got up and went to bed. She, however, remained where she was +seated--or rather crouched--for she knew that she could not sleep. + +How could she sleep? + +First, she was not feeling well. The kick she had received in her +side had produced a slight, dull, gnawing soreness; moreover, she +felt--or at least she fancied she could feel--a gnawing pain; it was +not much of a pain, only it seemed as if a watch were ticking there +within her. She shuddered and felt sick, a cold sweat gathered on her +brow, and she trembled from head to foot. + +Some women in her state--she had heard--never got over the +consequences of a blow; perhaps the kick might produce mortification, +and then in a few days she would die. Yes, she felt as if she had +received an inward incurable bruise. Well, after all, it was but +right; she had deceived her husband; he had revenged himself. Now +they were quits. + +Still tears started to her eyes, and sobs rose to her throat. + +Well, after all, she thought, what did it matter if she died? This +wretched life would be over. + +Only---- + +Only what? + +Yes, she avowed it to herself; she longed to see Uros' fond face once +more before dying. With her hand locked in his, her eyes gazing upon +him, death would have almost been bliss. + +With a repressed and painful yearning, her lover's name at last +escaped her lips. + +Radonic, who had been snoring as if he was about to suffocate, +uttered a kind of snorting sound, then he started and woke with a +fearful curse on his lips. + +Milena, shuddering, uttered a half-stifled cry. + +"What is the matter?" she asked. + +"Nothing, I was only dreaming. I thought that a young sailor, whom I +once crippled with a kick, had gripped me by my neck, and was choking +me." + +"It must have been the _morina_" (the nightmare) "sitting on you," +and Milena crossed herself. + +"How is it you are not in bed?" he asked, scowling. + +She did not speak for an instant. + +He started up to look at her. + +"Perhaps that villain is sneaking about the house, and you wish to +warn him?" + +"Your jealousy really drives you mad." + +"Well, then, will you speak? Why are you not yet in bed?" + +"I--I don't feel exactly well." + +"Why, what's the matter?" + +"The kick you gave me," she retorted, falteringly. + +"Why, I hardly touched you! well, you are getting mighty delicate; +you ought to have had the kick I gave that sailor lad, then you would +have known the strength of my foot!" + +"Yes, but----" She checked herself, and then added: "Women are +delicate." + +"Oh! so you are going to be a grand lady, and be delicate, are you? +Who ever heard of a Montenegrin being delicate?" Then he added: "If +you don't feel well, go to bed and try to sleep." + +Thereupon he turned on the other side, and began to snore very soon +afterwards. + +Milena began to think of what had been and might have been. + +She had sinned, foolishly, thoughtlessly; but since that fatal night +she had never known a single moment's happiness. As time passed, the +heinousness of her sin rose up before her, more dreadful, more +appalling. + +Still, was it the sin itself, or its dire consequences, that rendered +her so moody, so timorous? + +She never asked herself such a question; she only knew that she now +started, like a guilty thing, at the slightest noise, and she +shivered if anybody spoke to her abruptly. At times she fancied +everybody could read her guilt in her face. + +She had been more than once tempted, of late, to tell her husband +that, in some months, she would be a mother. Still, the words had +ever stuck in her throat; she could never nerve herself enough to +speak. + +Though he might probably never have got to know the real truth, could +she tell him that _he_ was the father of her child, or, at least, +allow him to think so? No, she could never do that, for it was +impossible to act that lie the whole of her life. Could she see her +husband, returning from a long voyage, take in his arms and fondle +the child that was not his, the child that he would strangle if he +knew whose it was? + +Although an infant is the real, nay, the only bond of married life, +still, the child of sin is a spectre ever rising 'twixt husband and +wife, estranging them from one another for ever. + +Then she had better confess her guilt at once. And bring about three +deaths? Aye, surely; Radonic was not a man to forgive. He had +crippled a sailor lad for some trifle. + +She must keep her secret a little longer--and then? + +Thereupon she fell on her knees before the silver-clad image of the +Virgin. + +"Oh, holy Virgin, help me! for to whom can I turn for help but to +thee? Help me, and I promise thee never to sin again, either by word +or action, all my life." And she kissed the icon devoutly. "Oh, holy +Virgin, help me! for thou canst do any miracle thou likest. Show +mercy upon me, and draw me from this sorrowful plight. I shall work +hard, and get thee, with my earnings, as huge a taper as money can +buy. + +"And thou, great St. George, who didst kill a dragon to save a maid, +save me from Vranic; and every year, upon thy holy day, I shall burn +incense and light a candle before thy picture, if thou wilt listen to +my prayer." + +After that, feeling somewhat comforted, she went to bed, and at last +managed to fall asleep, notwithstanding the pain she felt in her +side. + +On the morrow Radonic went away as usual, and Milena was left alone. +The day passed away slowly, gloomily. The weather was dull, sultry, +oppressive. The sirocco that blew every now and then in fitful, +silent gusts, was damp, stifling, heavy. A storm was brewing in the +air overhead, and all around there was a lull, as if anxious Nature +were waiting in sullen expectation for its outburst. The earth was +fretful; the sky as peevish as a human being crossed in his designs. +The hollow, rumbling noise in the clouds seemed the low grumbling of +contained anger. + +Everybody was more or less unsettled by the weather--Milena more than +anyone else. As the day passed her nervousness increased, and +solitude grew to be oppressive. + +Her husband, before leaving the house, had told her to go and spend +the evening at her kinswoman's, as a bee was to be held there; the +women spun, and the men prepared stakes for the vines. Bellacic was +fond of company, and he liked to have people with merry faces around +him, helping him to while away the long evening hours; nor did he +grudge a helping hand to others, whenever his neighbours had any kind +of work for him to do. + +"I'll come there and fetch you as soon as I've settled my business +with Vranic," said Radonic, going off. + +Milena, understanding that her husband wanted her out of the way, +decided upon remaining at home, and, possibly, preventing further +mischief. + +The day had been dark and gloomy from morning; the clouds heaped +overhead grew always blacker, and kept coming down lower and ever +lower. Early in the afternoon the light began to wane. Her uneasiness +increased at approaching night. With the gloaming her thoughts grew +dreary and dismal. She was afraid to remain at home; she was loth to +go away. Unable to work any longer, she went outside to sit on the +doorstep and spin. Now, at last, the rain began, and lurid flashes +were seen through the several heaps and masses of clouds. + +The lightning showed to her excited imagination not only numberless +witches, morine and goblins, chasing and racing after each other like +withered leaves in a storm, but in that horrid landscape she +perceived murderous battles, hurtling onslaughts, fearful frays and +bloodshed, followed by spaces that looked like fields of fire and +gory hills of trodden snow. It was too dreadful to look at, so she +turned round to go in. She would light the lamp and kindle the fire. +At a few steps from the threshold she heard, or, at least, she +fancied she heard, someone whistle outside. She stopped to listen. +Perhaps it was only the shrill sound of the wind through the leafless +bushes; for the wind has at times the knack of whistling like a +human being. + +She again advanced a step or two towards the hearth; and as she did +so, she stumbled on something. She uttered a low, muffled cry as she +almost fell. On what had her foot caught? She bent down, and felt +with her hand. It seemed like the corpse of a man stretched out at +full length--a human creature wallowing in his own blood. A sickening +sense of fear, a feeling of faintness, came over her. She hardly +dared to move. Her teeth were chattering; all her limbs were +trembling. Still, she managed to recover her self-possession, so as +to grope and put her hand on the steel and flint. Still, such was her +terror, that everything she touched assumed an uncouth, ungainly, +weird shape. Having found the steel, she managed to strike a light. +That faint glimmer dispelled her terror, and she asked herself how +she could have been so foolish as to take a coat lying on the floor +for a murdered man. + +The thing that puzzled her was how that coat came to be lying there +on the floor. It was her husband's old _kabanica_, and it must have +been left on some stool. + +As all these thoughts flitted through her mind, a loud crack was +heard--a jarring sound amidst the hushed stillness of the house. +Milena shuddered; a hand seemed to grip her throat. Her heart stopped +for a moment; then it began to throb and beat as if it were going to +burst. She gasped for breath. + +What was that ominous noise? The hoop of a tub had broken! + +To the uninitiated this might seem a trifle, but to those versed in +occult lore it was a fearful omen. Someone was to die in that house, +and this death was to happen soon, very soon; perhaps before +daybreak. + +She was so scared that she could not remain a moment longer in that +house; so, wrapping herself up in her husband's old coat, she +hastened out of the house. Just then Uros' last words sounded in her +ears: + +"If you are alone and in trouble, go to my mother; she will not only +be a friend to you, but love you as a daughter for my sake." + +Her husband that morning had sent her to Mara's; she could not remain +alone any longer; it was _Kismet_ that she should go. Besides, Vranic +might be coming now at any moment, and even if she swore to him that +her husband had not started, he would not believe her; then she would +only excite her husband to greater wrath if he came and found him +alone with her. No, on the whole, it was better by far to obey her +husband's behest; therefore, she started off. She ran quickly through +the pouring rain, and never stopped till she was at Bellacic's door. + +"Oh! Milena, is it you?" said Mara, her motherly eyes twinkling with +a bright smile of welcome; "though, to tell you the real truth, I +almost expected you." + +"Why?" + +"Because a big fly has been buzzing round me, telling me that some +person who is fond of me would come and see me. Oracles are always +true; besides," added she, with a smile and a sly look, "just guess +of what I've been dreaming?" + +"Of black grapes, that bring good luck, I suppose." + +"No, of doves; so I'll surely get a letter from Uros to-morrow or the +day after." + +Milena looked down demurely; she blushed; then, to turn away the +conversation, she added: + +"To-day, for a wonder, Radonic has sent me to pass the evening with +you; he'll come to fetch me later on--at least, he said he would." + +"It is a wonder, indeed--why, what's come over him? He must have put +on his coat inside out when he got up." + +Milena thereupon told her friend why her husband did not want her at +home. + +"Anyhow, I'm very glad you've come, for I'm embroidering two +waistcoats--one for Uros, the other for Milenko--and my poor eyes are +getting rather weak, so you can help me a little with the fine +stitching." + +"Radonic told me that some of your neighbours are coming to make +stakes." + +"Are they? My husband did not say anything about it." + +After some time, Markovic and his wife, and several other neighbours, +made their appearance. + +As every man came in, he greeted Milena, and, seeing her alone, asked +her where Radonic was. She, like a true Montenegrin, warded off the +question by answering with a shrug of her shoulders and in an +off-hand way: + +"May the devil take him, if I know where he is. I daresay he'll pop +up by-and-bye." + +Etiquette not only requires a wife to avoid speaking of her husband, +but also to eschew him completely when present, just as more northern +people ignore entirely the name of certain indispensable articles of +clothing. + +When all the guests were assembled, and such dainties as roasted +Indian-corn, melon, pumpkin and sun-flower seeds were handed round, +together with filberts and walnuts, then the bard (the honoured +guest) was begged to sing them a song. The improvisatore, stroking +his long moustache and twisting its ends upwards that they might not +be too much in his way as he spoke, took down his _guzla_ and began +to scrape it by way of prelude. This was not, as amongst us, a sign +to begin whispered conversation in out of the way corners, or to +strike an attitude of bored sentimentality, for everybody listened +now with rapt attention. + + +THE FAITHLESS WIFE. + + When Gjuro was about to start for war, + And leave his wife alone within his hall, + He fondly said: "Dear Jeljena, farewell, + My faithful wife; I now hie to the camp, + From whence I hope to come back soon; so for + Thine own sweet sake and mine be true to me." + In haste the wanton woman answered back: + "Go, my loved lord, and God watch over thee." + He had but gone beyond the gate, when she + Took up a jug and went across the field + To fetch fresh water from the fountain there; + And having got unto the grassy glen, she saw + A handsome youth, who had adorned his cap + With flowers freshly culled from terebinth. + And unto him the sprightly wife thus spoke: + "Good day to thee, brave Petar; tell me, pray, + Where hast thou bought those blossoms fresh and fair?" + And he: "God grant thee health, O Gjuro's wife; + They were not got for gold, they are a gift." + Then Jelka hastened back to her own house, + And to her room she called her trusted maid. + "Now list," said she. "Go quick beyond the field + And try to meet young Petar Latkovin; + With terebinth you'll see his cap adorned. + Say unto him: 'Fair youth, to thee I bear + The greetings of good Gjuro's wife, and she + Doth kindly beg that thou wilt sup with her, + And spend the night in dalliance and delight-- + And give her one fair flower from thy cap. + The castle hath nine gates; the postern door + Will ope for thee, now Gjuro is far off." + The handmaid forthwith to the fountain sped, + And found the youth. "Good day, my lord," said she. + "Great Gjuro's winsome wife her greetings sends; + She begs that thou will sup with her this night, + And grant her those sweet sprays of terebinth. + Nine gates our manor has; the small side door + Will be left ope for thee, my handsome youth, + As Gjuro is away." Then Petar thanked + And longed that night might come. At dusk, with joy + He to the castle sped. He put his steed + In Gjuro's stall, and then his sword he hung + Just in the place where Gjuro hung his own, + And set his cap where Gjuro placed his casque. + In mirth they supped, and sleep soon closed their eyes; + But, lo! when midnight came, the wife did hear + Her husband's voice that called: "My Jelka dear, + Come, my loved wife, and open quick thy doors." + Distracted with great fear, she from her bed + Sprang down, scarce knowing what to do; but soon + She hid the youth, then let her husband in. + With feigning love she to his arms would fly, + But he arrested her with frowning mien. + "Why didst thou not call quick thy maiden up + To come and ope at once these doors of thine?" + "Sweet lord, believe a fond and faithful wife: + Last night this maid of mine went off in pain + To bed; she suffers from the ague, my lord; + So I was loth, indeed, to call her up." + "If this be true, you were quite right," quoth he; + "Yet I do fear that all thy words are lies." + "May God now strike me dumb, if all I spake + Be aught than truth," said Jeljena at once. + But frowning, Gjuro stood with folded arms: + "Whose is that horse within my stall? and whose + That cap adorned with flowers gay? And there + I see a stranger's sword upon the wall." + "Now listen to thy loving wife, my lord. + Last night a warrior came within thy walls, + And wanted wine, in pledge whereof he left + His prancing steed, his sword, and that smart cap," + Said Yelka, smiling sweetly to her lord. + And he with lowering looks, then said: "'Tis well, + Provided thou canst swear thou speakest true." + "The Lord may strike me blind," she then replied. + "Why is thy hair dishevelled, and thy cheeks + Of such a pallid hue? now, tell me why?" + And she: "Believe thine honest wife. Last night + As I did walk beneath our orchard trees, + The apple boughs dishevelled thus my hair, + And then I breathed the orange blossom scent, + Until their fragrance almost made me faint." + Now Gjuro's face was fearful to behold, + Still as he frowned he only said: "'Tis well, + But on the holy Cross now take an oath." + "My lord, upon the holy Cross I swear." + "Now give me up the key of mine own room." + Then Jeljena grew ghastly pale with fear, + Still she replied in husky tones: "Last night + As I came from your room the key did break + Within the lock, so now the door is shut." + But he cried out in wrath: "Give me my key, + Or from thy shoulders I shall smite thy head!" + She stood aghast and speechless with affright, + So with his foot he burst at once the door. + There in the room he found young Latkovin. + "Now, answer quick: Didst thou come here by strength, + Or by her will?" The youth a while stood mute, + Not knowing what to say. But looking up: + "Were it by mine own strength," he then replied, + "Beyond the hills she now would be with me; + If I am here, 'tis by her own free will." + Then standing straight, with stern and stately mien, + Unto the youth he said, in scornful tones: + "Hence, get thee gone!" Now, when they were alone, + He glanced askance upon his guilty wife + With loathsomeness and hatred in his eyes: + "Now, tell me of what death thou'lt rather die-- + By having all thy bones crushed in a mill? + Or being trodden down 'neath horses' hoofs? + Or flaring as a torch to light a feast?" + She, for a trice, nor spake, nor moved, nor breathed, + But stood as if amazed and lost in thought; + Then, waking up as from some frightful dream: + "I am no corn to be crushed in a mill, + Or stubble grass for steeds to tread upon; + If I must die, then, like unto a torch, + Let me burn brightly in thy banquet hall." + In freezing tones the husband spake and said: + "Be it, then, as you list," and thereupon + He made her wear a long white waxen gown. + Then, in his hall, he bound her to a pyre, + And underneath he piled up glowing coals, + So that the flame soon rose and reached her knees. + With tearful eyes and a heartrending cry: + "Oh! Gjuro mine, take pity on my youth; + Look at my feet, as white as winter snow; + Think of the times they tripped about this hall + In mazy dance; let not my feet be scorched." + To all her prayers he turned a ruthless ear, + And only heaped more wood on the pile. + The lambent flames now leapt up to her hands, + And she in anguish and in dreadful dole + Cried out: "Oh! show some mercy on my youth; + Just see my hands--so soft, so small, so smooth-- + Let not these scathful flames now scorch my hands. + Have pity on these dainty hands of mine, + That often lifted up thy babe to thee." + Her words awoke no pity in his heart, + That seemed to have become as cold as clay; + He only heaped up coals upon the pile, + Like some fell demon who had fled from hell. + The forked lurid tongues rose up on high, + Like slender fiery snakes that sting the flesh, + And, leaping up, they reached her snowy breast. + "Oh! Gjuro," she cried out, "for pity's sake + Have mercy on my youth; torment me not. + Though I was false to thee, let me not die. + See how these fearful flames deflower these breasts-- + The fountain that hath fed thine infant's life-- + See, they are oozing o'er with drops of milk." + But Gjuro's eyes were blind, his ears were deaf; + A viper now was coiled around his heart, + That urged him to heap up the pile with wood. + The rising flames began to blind her eyes; + Still, ere the fearful smoke had choked her breath, + She cast on Gjuro one long loving glance, + And craved, in anguish, mercy on her youth: + "Have pity on my burning eyes, and let + Me look once more upon my little child." + To all her cries his cruel soul was shut; + He only fanned and fed the fatal flame, + Until the faithless wife was burnt to death. + + +A moment of deep silence followed; the men twisted their moustaches +silently, the women stealthily wiped away their tears with the back +of their hands. + +"Gjuro was a brute!" at last broke out a youth, impetuously. + +Nobody answered at once; then an elderly man said, slowly: + +"Perhaps he was, but you are not a husband yet, Tripko; you are only +in love. Adultery, amongst us, is no trifle, as it is in Venice, for +instance; we Slavs never forgive." + +"I don't say he ought to have forgiven; in his place I might have +strangled her, but as for burning a woman alive, as a torch, I find +it heinous!" + +Milena, who had fancied herself in Jeljena's place, could not refrain +her sobs any longer; moreover, it seemed to her as if her guilt had +been found out, and she wished the earth would open and swallow her +alive. + +"Oh, my poor Milena!" said Mara, soothingly, "you are too +tender-hearted; it is only a _pisma_, after all." Then, turning to +her neighbour, she added: "She has not been well for some days, and +then----" she lowered her voice to a whisper. + +"I am sorry," said the bard, "that I upset you in this way but----" + +"Oh! it is nothing, only I fancied I could see the poor woman +burning; it was so dreadful!" + +"Here," said Bellacic, "have a glass of _slivovitz_; it'll set you +all right. Moreover, listen; I'll tell you a much finer story, only +pay great attention, for I'm not very clever at story-telling. Are +you all ears?" + +"Yes," said Milena, smiling. + +"Well, once upon a time, there was a man who had three dogs: the +first was called Catch-it-quick; the second, Bring-it-back; and the +third, I-know-better. Now, one morning this man got up very early to +go out hunting, so he called Catch-it-quick, Bring-it-back, and +--and--how stupid I am! now I've forgotten the name of the other dog. +Well, I said I wasn't good in telling stories; what was it?" + +"I-know-better," interrupted Milena. + +"No doubt you do, my dear, so perhaps you'll continue the story +yourself, as you know better." + +Everybody laughed, and the gloom that had come over the company after +the bard's story was now dispelled. + +"Radonic is late; I'm afraid, Milena, if you went back home, you'd +have to prepare a stake for him," said Markovic. Then, turning to the +bard: "Come, Stoyan, give us another _pisma_." + +"Yes, but something merry," interrupted Tripko; "tell us some verses +about the great _Kraglievic_." + +The bard, contrary to his wont, was sipping his glass of _slivovitz_ +very slowly; he now finished it and said: + +"I'll try, though, to tell you the truth, I'm rather out of sorts +this evening; I really don't know why. There is an echo, as if of a +crime, in the slightest noise, a smell of blood in every gust of +wind. Do you not hear anything? Well, perhaps, I am mistaken." + +Everyone looked at one another wistfully, for they all knew that old +Stoyan was something of a prophet. + +"There! listen," said he, staring vacantly; "did you not hear?" + +"No," said Bellacic; "what was it?" + +"Only the heavy thud of a man falling like a corpse on the ground," +and as he said these words he crossed himself devoutly and muttered +to himself: "May the Lord forgive him, whoever he is." Thereupon +everybody present crossed himself, saying: "_Bog nas ovari._" + +Milena shuddered and grew deathly pale; though she was not gifted +with second sight, she saw in her mind's eye something so dreadful +that it almost made her faint with terror. Mara, seeing her ghastly +pale, said: + +"Come, give us this song, but let it be something brisk and merry, +for the howling of the wind outside is like a funeral wail, and it is +that lament which makes us all so moody to-night." + +"You are right, _gospodina_; besides, one man more or less--provided +he is no relation of ours--is really no great matter. How many +thousands fell treacherously at Kossoro." Then, taking up his bow, he +began to scrape the chord of his _guzla_, in a swift, jerking, +sprightly way. + +"What is it?" asked Bellacic. + +And Stoyan replied, as he began to sing: + + +MARKO KRAGLIEVIC'S FALCON. + + A falcon flies o'er Budua town; + It bears a gleaming golden crest, + Its wings are gilt, so is its breast; + Of clear bright yellow is each claw, + And with its sheen it lights the wold. + + Then all the maids of Budua town + Ask this fair sparkling bird of prey + Why it is yellow and not grey? + Who gilded it without a flaw? + Who gave it that bright crest of gold? + + And to the maids of Budua town + That falcon shy did thus reply: + Listen, ye maids, and know that I + Belong to Mark the warrior brave, + Who is as fair as he is bold. + + His sisters dwell in Budua town + The first, the fairest of the two, + Painted my claws a yellow hue, + And gilt my wings; great Marko gave + To me this sparkling crest of gold. + + +He finished, and then, as it was getting late, everyone began to wish +Bellacic and Mara good-night and to go off. Several of the guests +offered to see Milena home, but the _domacica_ insisted that her +kinswoman should remain and spend the night with her, and Milena +consented full willingly, for she dreaded going back home. + +When all the guests had gone, Mara took Milena in bed with her; but +she, poor thing, could not find rest, for the words of the bard kept +ever ringing in her ears. Then she saw again the great-coat lying on +the floor, looking like a corpse; and, in the howling wind, she +thought she heard a voice calling for help. Who was it? Radonic or +Vranic? + +It was only the wind howling outside through the trees, creeping +slily along the whitewashed walls of the houses, stealthily trying to +find some small cranny wherein to creep, then shrieking with a shrill +cry of exultation when it had come to an open window, or when, +discovering some huge keyhole, it could whistle undisturbed. + +At last, just as Milena began to get drowsy, and her heavy eyelids +were almost closed, she again saw the _kabanica_, which had--some +hours ago--been lying on the floor, rise and twist itself into the +most grotesque and fantastic attitudes, then--almost hidden under the +hood--Vranic's face making mouths at her. She opened her eyes widely, +and although consciousness had now returned, and she knew that the +great-coat had been left in the other room, still she saw it plainly +dancing and capering like a monkey. She shivered and shuddered; she +closed her eyes not to see it; still, it became ever more distinct. +Then she buried her face in the pillow, and covered up her head in +the sheet; then by degrees a feeling of drowsiness came over her, and +just as she was going off to sleep the _kabanica_, which was standing +erect, fell all at once to the ground with a mighty thud that almost +shook the whole house, and even seemed to precipitate her down some +bottomless hole. In her terror she clutched at Mara, who was fast +asleep, and woke her. + +"What's the matter?" asked the elderly woman. + +"I heard a loud voice; didn't you hear it?" + +"No, I had just dropped off to sleep." + +Thereupon both the women listened, but the house was perfectly quiet. + +"What kind of a noise was it?" + +"Like a man falling heavily on the ground." + +"You must have been dreaming; Stoyan's words frightened you, that's +all, unless the cat or the dog knocked something down. You know, at +night every noise sounds strange, uncouth, whilst in the day-time +we'd never notice them. Now, the best thing you can do is to try and +go off to sleep." + +Alas! why are we not like the bird that puts its head under its wing +and banishes at once the outer world from its view. Every endeavour +she made to bring about oblivion seemed, on the contrary, to +stimulate her to wakefulness, and thereby frustrate her efforts. +Sleepiness only brought on mental irritation, instead of soft, drowsy +rest. The most gloomy thoughts came into her mind. Why had her +husband not come to fetch her? Perhaps Vranic, seeing himself +discovered, had stabbed him to death. Then she thought that, in this +case, all her trouble would be at an end. Thereupon she crossed +herself devoutly, and uttered a prayer that her husband might not be +murdered, even if he had been cruel to her. Still, she was quite sure +that, if Radonic ever discovered her guilt, he would surely murder +her--burn her, perhaps, like Gjuro had done. + +Thereupon she heard the elderly man's slow and grave voice ringing in +her ears: + +"Slavs never forgive. Adultery amongst us is no trifle, as it is in +Venice." + +She shuddered with terror. Every single word as it had been uttered +had sunk deep into her breast, like drops of burning wax falling from +Jeljena's gown. Each one was like the stab of a sharp knife cutting +her to the quick. + +Then again she fancied that Stoyan had sung that _pisma_ only to +taunt her. + +She had once heard the _pop_ read in the Bible about an adulteress in +Jerusolim who was to be stoned to death. + +Had not every word that evening been a stone thrust at her? What was +she to do? What was to become of her? Once entangled in the net of +sin, every effort we make to get out of it seems to make us flounder +deeper in its fatal meshes. + +All these thoughts tortured and harassed her, burning tears were ever +trickling down her cheeks, her weary head was aching as she tossed +about, unable to go off to sleep, unable to find rest; nay, a +creepiness had come over all her limbs, as if a million ants were +going up and down her legs. + +How glad she was at last to see through the curtainless window the +first glimmer of dawn dispel the darkness of the night--the long, +dreary, unending night. + +"You have had a bad night," said Mara. "I heard you turning and +tossing about, but I thought it better not to speak to you. I suppose +it was the bed. I'm like you, I always lose my sleep in a new bed." + +"Oh, no!" said Milena. "I was anxious." + +"About your husband? Perhaps he got drunk and went off to sleep." + +As soon as Milena was dressed she wanted to go off, but Mara would +not allow her. + +"First, your husband said he'd come and fetch you, so you must stay +with us till he comes; then, remember you promised to help me with my +embroidery, so I can't let you go." + +"No, I'm too anxious about Radonic. You know, he's so hasty." + +"Yes, he's a brute, I know." + +"Besides, I can't get the bard's words out of my head." + +"In fact, poor thing, you are looking quite ill. Anyhow, I'll not +allow you to go alone, so you must wait till I've put the house in +order, and then I'll go with you." + +As soon as breakfast was over, and Bellacic was out of the house, +Mara got ready. She little knew that, though Milena was anxious to +find out the dreadful truth of that night's mystery, she was in her +heart very loth to return home. + +Just as Mara was near the door, she, like all women, forgot something +and had to go in, for--what she called--a minute. Milena stepped out +alone. First, as she pushed the door open, the hinges gave a most +unpleasant grating sound. She shivered, for this was a very bad omen. +Then a cat mewed. Milena crossed herself. And, as if all this were +not enough, round the corner came an old lame hag whom she knew. The +old woman stopped. + +"What, _gospa_! is it you? and where are you going so early in the +morning?" + +Milena shuddered, and her teeth chattered in such a way that she +could hardly answer her. It was very bad to meet an old woman in the +morning; worse still, a lame old woman; worst of all, to be asked +where you are going. + +The best thing on such a day would be to go back in-doors, and do +nothing at all; for everything undertaken would go all wrong. + +The old woman's curiosity having been satisfied, she hobbled away, +and soon disappeared, leaving Milena more dejected and forlorn even +than she had been before. + +Mara came out, and found her ghastly pale; she tried to laugh the +matter over, though she, too, felt that it was really no laughing +matter. Weary and worn, poor Milena dragged herself homewards, but +her knees seemed as if they were broken, and her limbs almost refused +to carry her. + +Soon they came in sight of the house; all the windows and the doors +were shut--evidently Radonic was not at home. + +"I wonder where he is," said Milena to her friend. + +"Probably he has gone to our house to look for you. If you had only +waited a little! Now he'll say that we wanted to get rid of you." + +At last they were at the door. + +"And now," said Mara, "probably the house is locked, and you'll have +to come back with me." Then, all at once interrupting herself: "Oh! +how my left ear is ringing, someone is speaking about me; can you +guess who it is, Milena? Yes, I think I can hear my son's voice," and +the fond mother's handsome face beamed with pleasure. + +She had hardly uttered these words, when they heard someone call out: + +"Gospa Mara! gospa Mara!" + +Then turning round, they saw a youth running up to them. + +"What! is it you, Todor Teodorovic? and when did you come back?" +quoth Mara. + +"We came back last evening." + +"Perhaps you met the _Spera in Dio_ on your voyage?" + +"Yes, we met the brig at Zara, but as she had somewhat suffered from +the storm, she was obliged to go to Nona for repairs, as all the +building yards of Zara were busy." + +Thereupon, he began to expatiate very learnedly about the nature of +the damage the ship had suffered, but Mara interrupted him-- + +"And how was Uros? did you see him?" + +"Oh, yes! he was quite well." + +Then he began to tell Mara all about the lives Uros and Milenko had +saved, and how gallantly they had endangered their own. "But," added +he, "our captain has a letter for you, _gospa_." + +"There, I told you I'd have a letter to-day; I had dreamt of doves, +and when I see doves or horses in my sleep, I always get some news +the day afterwards," said Mara, turning to her friend, but Milena had +disappeared. + +Todor Teodorovic having found a willing listener, an occurrence which +happened but very seldom with him, began to tell Mara all about the +repairs the _Spera in Dio_ would have to undergo, and also how long +they would stay at Nona, their approximate cost, and so forth, and +Mara listened because anything that related to her son was +interesting to her. + +Milena had stood for a few moments on the doorstep, but when she +heard that Uros was quite well, she slipped unperceived into the +house. She felt so oppressed as she went in that she almost fancied +she was going to meet her death. + +Was it for the last time she went into that house? Would she ever +come out of it again? + +Her hand was on the latch, she pressed it down; it yielded, the door +opened. Perhaps Radonic had come home late, drunk, and he was there +now sleeping himself sober. If this were the case, she would have a +bad day of it; he was always so fretful and peevish on the day that +followed a drinking bout. + +How dark the room was; all the shutters were tightly shut, and +dazzled as she was by the broad daylight, she could not see the +slightest thing in that dark room. + +Her heart was beating so loud that she fancied it was going to burst; +she panted for breath, she shrank within herself, appalled as she was +by that overpowering darkness. She dreaded to stretch out her hand +and grope about, for it seemed to her as if she would be seized by +some invisible foe, lying there in wait for her. + +Just then, as she was staring in front of her, with widely-opened +eyes, the _kabanica_, as she had seen it the evening before, rose +slowly, gravely, silently, from the floor, and stood upright before +her. + +That gloomy ghost of a garment detached itself from the surrounding +darkness and glided up to her, bending forward with outstretched +arms. No face was to be seen, for the head was quite concealed by the +hood. And yet she fancied Vranic's livid face must be there, near +her. + +She almost crouched down, oppressed by that ghostly garment; she +shrank back with terror, and yet she knew that the phantom in front +of her only existed in her morbid imagination. + +To nerve herself to courage, she turned round to cast a glance at +Uros' mother, and convince herself that she was still there, within +reach at a few steps; then, with averted head, she went in. + +She turned round; the phantom of the _kabanica_ had disappeared. She +was by the hearth. What was she to do now? First, open the shutters +and have some light. She turned towards the right. + +All at once she stumbled on the very spot where, the evening before, +she had caught and entangled her foot in the great-coat. A man was +lying there now, apparently dead. She uttered a piercing cry as she +fell on a cold, lifeless body. Then, as she fell, she fainted. + +Mara and Todor, hearing the cry, rushed into the house. They opened +the shutters, and then they saw Milena lying on the floor, all of a +heap, upon an outstretched body. They lifted her up and laid her on +the bed; then they went to examine the man, who was extended at full +length by the hearth, wrapped up in his huge great-coat. + +"There is no blood about him," said Todor; "he, therefore, must be +drunk, and asleep." + +Still, when they touched his limbs, they found that they were stiff +and stark, anchylosed by the rigid sleep of death. + +Mara pushed back the hood of the _kabanica_, and then she saw a sight +which she never forgot the whole of her life. + +She saw Vranic's face staring at her in the most horrible contortions +of overpowering pain. His distorted mouth was widely open, like a +huge black hole; out of it, his slimy, bloody, dark tongue +protruded--dreadful to behold. His nostrils were fiercely dilated. +Still, worst of all, his eyes, with their ugly cast, started +--squinting, glazed and bloodshot--out of their sockets. The hair of +his face and of his head was bristling frightfully; his ghastly +complexion was blotched with livid spots. It was, indeed, a gruesome +sight, especially seen so unexpectedly. + +All around his neck he bore the traces of strangulation, for Radonic, +who had promised not to use a knife, had been true to his word. + +Mara, shuddering, made the sign of the Cross. She pulled the hood of +the coat over the corpse's face, and then went to nurse Milena; +whilst Todor Teodorovic, who had, at last, found a topic of +conversation worth being listened to, went out to call for help. + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +THE HAYDUK + + +On the morning of the murder Vranic accompanied Radonic out of the +town. He had told Milena he would do so. On reaching the gate +fronting the open country and the dark mountains, Radonic stopped, +and wished his friend Good-bye. The seer insisted upon walking a +little way out of town with him. + +"No, thank you; go back. The weather is threatening, and we'll soon +have rain." + +"Well, what does it matter? If you don't melt, no more shall I," and +he laughed at his would-be witticism. + +"The roads are bad, and you are no great walker." + +Vranic, however, insisted. + +Thus they went on together, through vineyards and olive-groves, until +they got in sight of the white-walled convent. There Radonic tried +once more to get rid of his friend. At last they reached the foot of +the rocky mountain, usually fragrant with sage and thyme. Having got +to the flinty, winding path leading to the fort of Kosmac: + +"Now," said Radonic, "you must positively come no farther." + +The road was uneven and very steep. Vranic yielded. + +"Go back, and take care of Milena." + +"Well, I do not say it as a boast, but you could not leave her in +better hands." + +"She is young, and, like all women--well, she has long hair and short +brains. Look after her." + +"Vranic has his eyes open, and will keep good watch." + +"I know I can rely on you. Have we not always been friends, we two? +That is why, whenever I left my home, I did so with a light heart." + +"Your honour is as dear to me as if it were my own." + +"It is only in times of need that we really appreciate the advantage +of having a friend. The proverb is right: 'Let thy trusted friend be +as a brother to you'; and a friend to whom we can entrust our wife, +is even more than a brother. I therefore hope to be able to repay you +soon for your kindness." + +"Don't mention it. It has been a pleasure for me to be of use to you; +for, as honey attracts flies, a handsome young woman collects men +around her. So there must always be someone to ward off indiscreet +admirers. Moreover, as you know, they say I am a seer, and they are +afraid of me." + +At last they kissed and parted; the one walking quickly townwards, +almost light-hearted, especially after the load of his friend's +company, the other trudging heavily upwards. + +After a few steps, Radonic climbed a high rock, and sat down to watch +Vranic retracing his steps townwards. When he had seen him disappear, +he at last rose and quietly followed him for a while. A quarter of an +hour afterwards he was knocking at the gate of the white-walled +convent. The monks, who are always fond of any break in their +monotonous life, received him almost with deference--a sea captain, +who had been all over the world, was always a welcome guest. After +taking snuff with all of them, and chatting about politics, the crops +and the scandal of the town, Radonic asked to be confessed; then he +gave alms, was absolved of his peccadilloes, and finally took the +Eucharist--a spoonful of bread soaked in wine--although he prided +himself on being something of a sceptic. Still, he felt comforted +thereby; he had blotted out all past sins and could now begin a new +score. Religion, they say, in all its forms always tends to make man +happy--aye, and better! + +In this merry frame of mind he sat down to dinner with the jolly +brotherhood, and after a copious but plain meal, he, according to the +custom of this holy house, retired to one of the cells appointed to +strangers, to have a nap. No sooner was he alone than he undid his +bundle, took out a razor and shaved off all the hair of his cheeks +and chin, leaving only a long pair of thick moustaches, which he +curled upwards according to the fierce fashion of the Kotor. This +done, he took off his soiled, ugly, badly-fitting European clothes +and put on the dress of the country--one of the finest and manliest +devised by man; so that, although not good-looking, he was handsome +to what he had just been. + +The monks, on seeing him come out, did not recognise him, and could +not understand from whence he had sprung. Then they were more than +astonished when they found out the reason for this transformation, +for he told them that it was to surprise his wife, or rather, the +moths attracted by her sparkling eyes. + +"I thought I should never put on again the clothes of my youth, but +fate, it appears, has decreed otherwise." + +"Man is made of dust, and to dust he returneth. Sooner or later we +have to become again what we once were. You know the story of the +mouse, don't you?" + +"No; or at least I don't think I do." + +"Then listen, and I'll tell it you." + + +A great many years ago, in the times of Christ and His disciples, +there lived somewhere in Asia a very good man, who had left off +worshipping idols and had become a Christian. + +Finding soon afterwards that it was impossible for him to dwell any +more with his own people--who scoffed at his new creed, rated him for +wishing to be better than they were, mocked him when he prayed, and +played all kinds of tricks on him when he fasted--he sold his +birthright and divided all his money amongst the poor, the blind and +the cripples of his native town. Then he bade farewell to all his +friends and relations, and with the Holy Scriptures in one hand, and +a staff in the other, he went out of the town gate and walked into +the wilderness. + +He wandered for many days until he arrived on top of a steep, +treeless, wind-blown hill, and, almost on the summit, he found a +small cave, the ground of which was strewn with fine white sand, as +soft to the feet as a velvet carpet. On one side of this grotto there +was a fountain of icy cold water, and on the other, hewn in the rock +as if by the hand of man, a kind of long niche, which looked as if it +had been made on purpose for a bed. The Christian, who had decided to +become a hermit, saw in this cave a sign of God's will and favour; +therefore, he stopped there. For some time he lived on the roots of +plants, berries and wild fruit, that grew at the foot of the hill; +then he cultivated a patch of ground, and so he passed his time, +praying, reading his holy Book, meditating over it, or tilling his +bit of glebe. + +Years and years passed--who knows how many?--and he had become an old +man, with a long white beard reaching down to his knees, a brown, +sun-burnt skin, and a face furrowed with wrinkles. Since the day he +had left his country, he had never again seen a man, a woman or a +child, nor, indeed, any other animal, except a few birds that flew +over his head, or some small snakes that glided amongst the stones. +So one evening, after he had said his lengthy prayers and committed +his soul to God, he went to lie down on his couch of leaves and moss; +but he could not sleep. He, for the first time, felt lonely, and, as +it were, home-sick. He knew he would never behold again the face of +any man, so he almost wished he had, at least, some tiny living +creature to cherish. Sleep at last closed his eyes. In the morning, +on awaking, he saw a little mouse frisking in the sand of his cave. +The old hermit looked astonished at the pretty little thing, and he +durst not move, but remained as quiet as a mouse, for fear the mouse +would run away. + +The animal, however, caught sight of him, and stood stock-still on +its hind legs, looking at him. Thus they both remained for some +seconds, staring at each other. Then the hermit understood at last +that God, in His goodness, had heard his wish, and had sent him this +little mouse to comfort him, and be a companion to him in his old +age. And so it was. + +Days, months, years passed, and the mouse never left the hermit, not +even for a single instant; and the godly man grew always fonder of +this friendly little beast. He played with it, patted it, and called +it pet names; and at night, when he crept into his niche to sleep, he +took the mouse with him. + +One night, as he pressed the little animal to his breast, he felt his +heart overflow with love for it, and in his unutterable fondness he +begged the Almighty to change this dear little mouse into a girl; and +lo, and behold! God granted his prayer, for, of course, he was a +saintly man. The hermit pressed the girl to his heart, and then fell +upon his knees and thanked the All-Merciful for His great goodness. + +The girl grew up a beautiful maiden--tall, slender, and most graceful +in her movements, with a soft skin, and twinkling, almost mischievous +eyes. + +Years passed. The hermit now had grown to be a very old man; and in +his last years his spirit was troubled, and his heart was full of +care. He knew that he had passed the time allotted to man here below, +and he was loth to think that he would have to die and leave his +daughter alone in the wilderness. Besides, she had reached +marriageable age; and if it is no easy matter for a match-making +mother to marry her daughter in a populous town, it was a difficult +task to find a husband for her in that desert. Moreover, he did not +exactly know how to broach the subject of matrimony to a girl who was +so very ingenuous, and who thought that all the world was limited to +the cave and the hill on which she lived. Still, he did not shrink +from this duty; and, therefore, he told her what he had read in +scientific books about the conjunctions of planets in the sky. Then +he quoted the Scriptures, and said that it was not good for man to be +alone, nor for woman either; that even widows should marry, if they +cannot live in the holy state of celibacy. + +The poor girl did not quite fathom all the depths of his speech, but +said she would be guided by his wisdom. + +"Very well," said the anchorite, "I shall soon find you a husband +worthy of you." + +"But," said the girl, ingenuously, "why do you not marry me +yourself?" + +"_I_ marry you? First, my dear, I am a hermit, and hermits never +marry, for if they did, they might have a family, then--you +understand--they wouldn't be hermits any more, would they?" + +"But they needn't have a family, need they?" + +"Well, perhaps not; besides, I can't marry you, because----" + +"Because?" + +"I," stammered the anchorite, blushing, "I'm too old." + +"Ah, yes!" echoed the maid, sighing; "it's a fact, you are _very_ +old." + +That night, after the hermit and his adopted daughter had said their +prayers, she, who was very sleepy, went off to bed, whilst he, who +was as perplexed as any father having a dowerless daughter, went out +of his cavern to meditate. + +The full moon had just risen above the verge of the horizon, and her +soft light silvered the sand of the desert, and made it look like +newly fallen snow. + +The old man stood on top of the hill, and stretching forth his arms +to the Moon: + +"Oh! thou mightiest of God's works, lovely Moon, take pity upon a +perplexed father, and listen to my prayer. I have one fair daughter +that has now reached marriageable age; she is of radiant beauty, and +well versed in all the mysteries of our holy religion. Marry my +daughter, O Moon!" + +"Now," said Radonic, interrupting, "that's foolish; how could the old +hermit expect the Moon to marry his daughter?" + +"First, this is a parable, like one of those our blessed Saviour used +to tell the people; therefore, being a parable, it's Gospel, and you +must believe it as a true story, for it is the life of one of the +holy Fathers of the Church." + +"I see," quoth Radonic, although he did not see quite clearly. + +Then the Moon replied: + +"You are mistaken, old man; I am not the mightiest of God's creation. +The Sun, whose light I reflect, is the greatest of the Omnipotent's +works; ask the Sun to be a husband to thy daughter." + +The hermit sank on his knees and uttered lengthy prayers, till the +light of the Moon grew pale and vanished, and the sky got to be of a +saffron tint; soon afterwards, the first rays of the Sun flooded the +desert, and transmuted the sandy plain into one mass of glittering +gold. When the old man saw the effulgent disc of the Sun, he +stretched out his arms and apostrophised this planet as he had done +the Moon. Then he rubbed his hands and thought: + +"Well, if I only get the Sun for my son-in-law I'm a lucky man." + +But the Morning Sun told the hermit that he was mistaken: + +"I'm not the mightiest of the Creator's works," quoth the Sun. "You +see yon cloudlet yonder. Well, soon that little weasel will get to be +as big as a camel, then as a whale, then it'll spread all over the +sky and will hide my face from the earth I love so well. That Cloud +is mightier than I am." + +Then the hermit waited on top of the hill until he saw the Cloud +expand itself in the most fantastic shapes, and when it had covered +up the face of the Morning Sun, the hermit stretched out his hands +and offered to it his daughter in marriage. The Cloud, however, +answered just as the Moon and the Sun had done, and it proposed the +Simoon as a suitor to his daughter. + +"Wait a bit," said the Cloud, "and you will see the might of the +Simoon, that, howling, rises and not only drives us whithersoever he +will, but scatters us in the four corners of the Earth." + +No sooner had the Cloud done speaking than the Wind arose, lifting up +clouds of dust from the earth. It seemed to cast the sand upwards in +the face of the sky, and against the clouds; and the waters above +dropped down in big tears, or fled from the wrath of the Wind. + +Then the hermit stretched his hands towards the Simoon, and begged +him, as the mightiest of the Creator's works, to marry his daughter. + +But the Wind, howling, told him to turn his eyes towards a high +mountain, the snowy summit of which was faintly seen far off in the +distance. "That Mountain," said he, "is mightier by far than myself." + +The hermit then went into the cavern and told his daughter that, as +it was impossible to find a suitor for her in the desert, he was +going on a journey, from which he would only return on the morrow. + +"And will you bring me a husband when you come back?" she asked, +merrily. + +"I trust so, with God's grace," quoth the Hermit, "and one well +worthy of you, my beloved daughter." + +Then the hermit girded his loins, took up his staff, and journeyed in +the direction of the setting sun. Having reached the foot of the +Mountain when the gloaming tinged its flanks in blood, he stretched +out his arms up to the summit of the Mount and begged it to marry his +daughter. + +"Alas," answered the Mountain, mournfully, "you are much mistaken. I +am by no means the mightiest of God's works. A Rat that has burrowed +a big hole at my feet is mightier by far than I am, for he nibbles +and bites me and burrows in my bowels, and I can do nothing against +it. Ask the Rat to marry thy daughter, for he is mightier by far than +I am." + +The hermit, after much ado, found out the Rat's hole, and likewise +the Rat, who--like himself--was a hermit. + +"Oh, mightiest of God's mighty works! I have one daughter, passing +fair, highly accomplished, and well versed in sacred lore; wilt +thou--unless thou art already married--take this rare maiden as thy +lawful wedded wife?" + +"Hitherto, I have never contemplated marriage," retorted the Rat, +"for 'sufficient to the day are the evils thereof'; still, where is +your daughter?" + +"She is at home, in the wilderness." + +"Well, you can't expect me to marry a cat in a bag, can you?" he +answered, squeaking snappishly. + +"Oh, certainly not!" replied the anchorite, humbly; "still, that she +is fair, you have my word on it; and I was a judge of beauty in past +times"--thereupon he stopped, and humbly crossed himself--"that she +is wise--well, she is my daughter." + +"Pooh!" said the Rat; "every father thinks his child the fairest one +on earth; you know the story of the owl, don't you?" + +"I do," retorted the hermit, hastily. + +"Then you wouldn't like me to tell it you, would you?" + +"No, not I." + +"Well, then, what about your daughter?" + +"I'll take you to see her, if you like." + +"Is it far?" + +"A good day's walk." + +"H'm, I don't think it's worth while going so far. Could you not +bring her here for me to see her?" + +"Oh! it's against etiquette. But if you like, I'll carry you to her." + +"All right, it's a bargain." + +At nightfall they set out on their journey, and they got to the cave +early on the following day. + +The young girl, seeing the hermit, ran down the hill to meet him. + +"Well, father," said she, with glistening eyes, flushed cheeks, +parted lips, and panting breast, "and my husband, where is my +husband?" + +"Here," said the anchorite; and he took the Rat out of his wallet. +"Here he is; allow me to introduce to you a husband mightier than the +Moon, more powerful than the Sun, stronger than the Clouds, more +valiant than the Simoon, greater than the high Mountain; in fact, a +husband well worthy of you, my daughter." + +The eyes of the young girl opened wider and wider in mute +astonishment. + +"He's a fine specimen of his kind, isn't he?" + +"I daresay he is," said she, surveying him with the eye of a +connoisseur; "and cooked in honey, he'd be a dainty bit." + +"And he's a hermit, into the bargain." + +"But," added the girl, ruefully, "if you intended me to marry a rat, +was it not quite useless to have turned me into a woman?" + +The hermit stroked his beard, pensively, for a while, and was +apparently lost in deep meditation. + +"My daughter," replied he, after a lengthy pause, "your words are +Gospel; I have never thought of all this till now; you see clearly +that 'the ways of Providence are not our ways.'" + +Thereupon, the old man fell on his knees, for he felt himself +rebuked; he prayed long and earnestly that his daughter might once +more be changed into a mouse. And, lo and behold! his prayer was +granted; nay, before he had got up from his knees and looked around, +the girl had dwindled into her former shape, evidently well pleased +with the change. + +Anyhow, the anchorite was comforted in his loneliness, for he had +always meant well towards her; moreover, he felt sure that if the +newly-married couple ever had children, the little mice would be so +well brought up, that they would scrupulously refrain from eating +lard on fast days. + +Then the hermit, tired with his journey, went and lay down on his bed +of moss, dropped off to sleep, and never woke again on earth. + + +At dusk, Radonic took leave of the learned and hospitable +_kaludgeri_, and went back to town. He reached the gate when the +shadows of the night had already fallen upon the earth. Although he +fancied that everyone he met stared at him, still many of his +acquaintances passed close by him without recognising him. + +At last he crossed the whole of the town and got to his house. The +door being slightly ajar, he thought Milena must be at home. He +glided in on tiptoe, his _opanke_ hardly making the slightest noise +on the stone floor. There was no fire on the hearth, no light to be +seen anywhere. Milena was not in the front room, nor in any of the +others. Where could she have gone, and left the front door open? +Surely she would be back in a few moments? He crouched in a corner +and waited, but Milena did not make her appearance. + +As it was quite dark, he groped to the cupboard, found the loaf, cut +himself a slice, then managed to lay his hand on the cheese. As he +ate, he almost felt like a burglar in his own house. The darkness +really unnerved him, and yet he was inured to watch in the night on +board his ship; now, however, the hand of Time seemed to have +stopped. + +The bread was more than tough, the cheese was dry; so he could hardly +manage to gulp the morsels down. Unable to find the _bukara_, he went +into the cellar and took a long draught of heady wine. + +Returning upstairs, he again crouched in a corner. Milena had not +come back; evidently, she had gone to Mara's, as he had told her to. +Sitting there in the darkness, watching and waiting, with the purpose +of blood on his mind, time hung wearily upon him. The wine had +somewhat cheered him, but now drowsiness overpowered him. To keep +himself from falling asleep, he tried to think. Though he was not +gifted with a glowing imagination, still his mind was full of +fancies, and one vision succeeded another in his overheated brain. +His past life now began to flit before his eyes like scenes in a +peep-show. A succession of ghosts arose from amidst the darkness and +threatened him. One amongst them made him shudder. It was that of a +beautiful young woman of eighteen summers standing on the seashore, +waiting for a sail. + +Many years ago, when he was only a simple sailor, he had been wrecked +on the coasts of Sicily. A poor widow had given him shelter, and in +return for her kindness, what had he done? This woman had three +daughters; the eldest was a beautiful girl of eighteen, the other two +were mere children. For months these poor creatures toiled for him +and fed him. Then he married the girl under a false name with the +papers belonging to one of the drowned sailors. Although he had +married her against his will--for she was a Catholic and did not +belong to the Orthodox faith--still he intended doing what was +right--bring her to his country, and re-marry her according to the +rites of his own Church. But time passed; so he confessed, gave alms +to the convent, obtained the absolution, and was almost at peace with +himself. Probably, she had come to the conclusion that he had been +swallowed up by the hungry waves, and she had married a man of her +own country; so his child had a father. Still, since his marriage, +the vision of that woman often haunted him. + +Anyhow, he added bitterly to himself, although a Catholic, she had +loved him. Milena, a true believer, had never cared for him. And now +he remembered the first time he had seen Milena; how smitten he had +been by her beauty, how her large eyes had flashed upon him with a +dark and haughty look. She had disliked him from the first, but what +had he cared when he had got her father into his hands? for when the +proud Montenegrin owed him a sum which he could not pay at once, he +had asked him for the hand of his daughter. + +Instead of trying to win her love, he had ill-treated her from the +very beginning; then, seeing that nothing could daunt her, he had +often feared lest he should find his house empty on returning home. + +All at once the thought struck him that now she had run away with +Vranic. She had, perhaps, confided the whole truth to him, and they +had escaped together. He ground his teeth with rage at that thought. + +No, such a thing could not be, for she hated Vranic. + +"Aye, it is true she hates him, but does she not hate me as much?" he +said to himself; "fool that I was not to have thought of this before. +Vranic is not handsome; no one can abide him. Still, he clings to +women in a way that it is almost impossible to get rid of him. +Anyhow, if they have gone away together, I swear by the blessed +Virgin, by St. Nicholas, and by St. Cyril and Method that I shall +overtake them; nay," said he, with a fearful oath, "even if they have +taken refuge in God's own stomach, I shall go and drag them out and +take vengeance on them, as a true Slav that I am. Still, in the +meantime, they have, perhaps, fooled me, and I am here waiting for +them." And, in his rage, he struck his head against the wall. + +"Trust a woman!" thought Radonic; "they are as skittish as cats, +slippery as eels, as false as sleeping waters. Why, my own mother +cheated me of many a penny, only for the pleasure of hoarding them, +and then leaving them to me after her death. Trust a woman as far as +you can see her, but no farther," and then he added: "Yes, and trust +thy friend, which is like going to pat a rabid dog.--What o'clock is +it?" he asked himself. + +He was always accustomed to tell the time of the day to a minute, +without needing a watch, but now he had lost his reckoning. + +It was about six o'clock when he came back home; was it nine or ten +now? + +He durst not strike a light, for fear of being seen from without and +spoiling his little game. He waited a little more. + +The threatening shadows of the past gathered once more around him. + +All at once he heard some words whispered audibly. It was the curse +of the boy he had crippled for life. He shuddered with fear. In his +auto-suggestion he, for a moment, actually fancied he had heard those +words. Then he shrugged his shoulders, and tried to think of +pleasanter subjects. + +A curse is but a few idle words; still, since that time, not a decent +seaman had ever sailed with him. + +He could not bear the oppressive darkness any longer; peopled as it +was with shadows, it weighed upon him. He went into the inner room, +lit a match, looked at his watch. + +It was not yet nine o'clock. Time that evening was creeping on at a +sluggish pace. + +"Surely," he soliloquised, "if Vranic is coming he cannot delay much +longer." After a few seconds he put out the light and returned to the +front room. + +Soon afterwards, he heard a bell strike slowly nine o'clock in the +distance; then all was silence. The house was perfectly still and +quiet, and yet, every now and then, in the room in which he was +sitting, he could hear slight, unexplainable noises, like the soft +trailing of garments, or the shuffling of naked feet upon the stone +floor; stools sometimes would creak, just as if someone had sat upon +them; then small objects seemed stealthily handled by invisible +fingers. + +He tried to think of his business, always an engrossing subject, not +to be overcome by his superstitious fears. He had been a shrewd man, +he had mortgaged his house for its full value to Vranic himself to +buy the mythical cargo. Now that all his wealth was in bank-notes, or +in bright and big Maria Theresa dollars, he was free to go +whithersoever he chose. + +Still, it was vexing to think that if he killed that viper of a +Vranic, as he was in duty bound to do, he would have to flee from his +native town, and escape to the mountains, at least till affairs were +settled. It was a pity, for now the insurance society would make a +rich man of him, so he might have remained comfortably smoking his +pipe at home, and enjoying the fruits of many years' hard labour. + +A quarter-past nine! + +He began to wonder whether Milena--not seeing him come to fetch her +--would return home. Surely more than one young man would offer to +see her to her house. This thought made him gnash his teeth with rage. + +When once the venom of jealousy has found its way within the heart of +man, it rankles there, and, little by little, poisons his whole +blood. + +And again he thought: "That affair of Uros and Milenko has never been +quite clear; Vranic was false, there was no doubt about it; still, it +was not he who had invented the whole story. Had he not been the +laughing-stock of all his friends?" + +Half-past nine! + +How very slowly the hours passed! If he could only do something to +while away the time--pace up and down the room, as he used to do on +board, and smoke a cigarette; but that was out of the question. + +Hush! was there not a noise somewhere? It must have been outside; and +still it seemed to him as if it were in the house itself. Was it a +mouse, or some stray cat that had come in unperceived? No; it was a +continuous noise, like the trailing of some huge snake on the dry +grass. + +A quarter to ten! + +Silence once more. Now, almost all the town is fast asleep. He would +wait a little longer, and then? Well, if Vranic did not come soon, he +would not come at all, so it would be useless waiting. He wrapped +himself up in his great-coat, for the night was chilly, and had it +not been for the thought that Milena had fled with Vranic, sleepiness +would have overcome him. + +He thoughtlessly began making a cigarette, out of mere habit, just to +do something. It was provoking not to smoke just when a few puffs +would be such a comfort. + +Now he again hears the chimes at a distance; the deep-toned bell +rings the four quarters slowly; the vibrations of one stroke have +hardly passed away when the quiet air is startled by another stroke. +How much louder and graver those musical notes sound in the hushed +stillness of the night! + +Ten o'clock! + +Some towns--Venice, for instance--were all life and bustle at that +hour of the night; the streets and squares all thronged with masks +and merry revellers; the theatres, coffee-houses, dancing-rooms, were +blazing with light, teeming with life, echoing with music and +merriment. Budua is, instead, as dark, as lonesome, and as silent as +a city of the dead. The whole town is now fast asleep. + +"It is useless to wait any longer," mutters Radonic to himself; +"nobody is coming." + +The thought that his wife had fled with Vranic has almost become a +certainty. Jealousy is torturing him. He feels like gripping his +throat and choking himself, or dashing his head to pieces against the +stone wall. If his house had been in town, near the others, Vranic +might have waited till after ten o'clock; but, situated where it was, +no prying neighbours were to be feared. Something had, perhaps, +detained him. Still, what can detain a man when he has such an object +in view? + +Muttering an oath between his teeth, Radonic stood up. + +"Hush! What was that?" He listened. + +Nothing, or only one of the many unexplainable noises heard in the +stillness of the night. + +Perhaps, after all, Vranic had been on the watch the whole day, and +then he had seen him return. Perhaps--though he had never believed in +his friend's gift of second sight--Vranic was indeed a seer, and +could read within the minds of men. Perhaps, having still some +doubts, he would only come on the morrow. Anyhow, he would go to bed +and abide his time. He stretched his anchylosed limbs and yawned. + +Now he was certain he heard a noise outside. + +He stood still. It was like the sound of steps at a distance. He +listened again. This time he was not mistaken, though, indeed, it was +a very low sound. Stealthy steps on the shingle. He went on tiptoe to +the door. The sound of the steps was more distinct at every pace. +Moreover, every now and then, a stone would turn, or creak, or strike +against another, and thus betray the muffled sound of the person who +walked. + +Radonic listened breathlessly. + +Perhaps, after all, it was only Milena coming back home. He peeped +out, but he could not see anything. Was his hearing quicker than his +sight? + +He strained his eyes and then he saw a dark shadow moving among the +bushes, but even then he could only distinguish it because his eyes +were rendered keener by following the direction pointed out by his +ears. + +Was it Vranic, he asked himself. + +Aye, surely; who else could it be but Vranic? + +Still, what was he afraid of? No human eye could see him, no ear +detect his steps. + +Are we not all afraid of the crime we are about to commit? There is +in felony a ghastly shadow that either precedes or follows us. It +frightens even the most fearless man. + +Slowly the shadow emerged from within the darkness of the bushes and +came up towards the house. It was Vranic's figure, his shuffling +gait. + +Radonic's breast was like unto a glowing furnace, the blood within +his heart was bubbling like molten metal within a crucible. + +In a moment, that man--who was coming to seduce his wife and +dishonour him--would be within his clutches. + +Then he would break every bone within his body. He seemed to hear the +shivering they made as he shattered them into splinters, and he +shuddered. + +For a moment, the atrocity of the crime he was about to commit, +daunted him. + +Still, almost at the same time, he asked himself whether he were +going to turn coward at the last moment. + +Was he not doing an act of equity? How heinously had not this fiend +dealt by him! He had put him up against his wife, until, baited, she +was almost driven to adultery. No, the justice of God and man would +absolve him; if not--well, he had rather be hanged, and put his soul +in jeopardy, than forego his vengeance. He was a Slav. + +All these thoughts flitted through his brain in an instant, like +flashes of lightning following one another on a stormy night. + +Radonic watched the approaching shadow, from the cranny of the door +ajar, with a beating heart. + +Before Vranic came to the doorstep, he stopped. He looked round on +one side, then on the other; after that he cast a glance all around. +He bent his head forward to try and pierce the darkness that +surrounded him. Was he seeing ghosts? Then he seemed to be listening. +At last, convinced that he was alone, he again walked on. Now he was +by the door, almost on the sill, within reach of Radonic's grasp. He +stopped again. + +Radonic clasped his knife; he might have flung the door open, and +despatched him with a single blow. No, that would have been stupid. +It was better by far to let him come in, like a mouse into a trap, +and there be caught with his own bait. Yes, he would make the most of +his revenge, spit upon him, torture him. + +Slowly and noiselessly he glided back into a corner behind the door. +Some everlasting seconds passed. He waited breathlessly, for his +heart was beating so loud that he could only gasp. + +Had Vranic repented at the last instant? Had he gone back? Was he +still standing on the doorstep, waiting and watching? At last he +moved--he came up to the door--he slowly pushed it open; then again +he stopped. The darkness within was blacker than the darkness +without. + +"_Sst, pst!_" he hissed, like a snake. Then he waited. + +He came a step onward; then, in an undertone: "Milena, Milena, where +are you?" + +Again he waited. + +"Milena," he whispered; and again, louder: "Milena, are you here?" + +He stretched forth his hands, and groped his way in. Radonic could +just distinguish him. + +"Milena, my love, it is I, Vranic." + +Those few words were like a sharp stab to Radonic. He made a +superhuman effort not to move; for he wanted to see what the rascal +would do next. + +"Perhaps she has fallen asleep, or else has gone to bed," he muttered +to himself. + +He again advanced a few steps, always feeling his way. Evidently, he +was going towards the next room; for he knew the house well. All at +once, he stumbled against a stool. He was frightened; he thought +someone had clutched him by the legs. He recovered, and shut the door +behind him. It was a fatal step; for otherwise he might, perhaps, +have managed to escape. + +How easy it would now have been for Radonic to pounce upon him and +dash his brains out; but he wanted to follow the drama out to its +end, and now the last scene was at hand. + +Vranic, having shut the door, remained quiet for some time. He +fumbled in his pockets, took out his steel and flint, then struck a +light. At the first spark he might have seen Radonic crouching a few +steps from him, but he was too busy lighting the bit of candle he had +brought with him. When his taper shed its faint glimmer, then he +looked round, and, to his horror, he saw the figure of a man, with +glistening eyes, and a dagger in his hand, standing not far from him. +At first he did not recognise his friend, with shaven beard and in +his new attire; still, he did not require more than a second glance +to know who it was. + +Terror at once overpowered him; he uttered a low, stifled cry. +Retreat was now out of the question; he therefore tried to master his +emotion. + +"Oh! Radonic, is it you? How you frightened me! I did not recognise +you. But how is it that you have come back? and this change in----" + +"How is it that you are in my house at this hour of the night?" said +he, laying his hands on him. + +"I--I," quoth Vranic, gasping, "I came to see if everything was +quiet, as I promised, and seeing your door open----" + +"That is why you call Milena your love." + +"Did I? You are mistaken, Radonic--though perhaps I did; but then it +was only to see if she were expecting someone; you know women are +light----" + +"You liar, you villain, you devil!" And Radonic, clutching him by his +shoulders, shook him. + +"Believe me! I swear by my soul! I swear by the holy Virgin, whose +medals--blessed by the Church--I wear round my neck. May I be struck +down dead if what I say is not true!" + +"Liar, forswearer, wretch!" hissed out Radonic, as he spat in +Vranic's face. + +"I never meant to wrong you," replied Vranic, blubbering. "I came +here as a friend--I told you I would; may all the saints together +blind me if what I say be not true." + +But the husband, ever more exasperated, clutched his false friend by +the throat, and as he spouted out all his wrath, he kept gripping him +tighter and ever tighter. In his passion his convulsively clenched +fingers were like the claws of a bird of prey. + +Vranic now struggled in vain; the candle, which had been blown out, +had fallen from his fingers; he tried to speak, he gasped for breath, +he was choking. + +Radonic's grasp now was as that of an iron vice, and the more the +false friend struggled to get free, the stronger he squeezed. + +Vranic at last emitted a stifled, raucous, gurgling sound; then his +arms lost their strength, and when, a moment afterwards, the furious +husband relinquished his hold, his antagonist fell on the floor with +a mighty thud. + +The bells of the church were chiming in the distance. + +Radonic, shivering, shuddering, stood stock-still in the darkness +that surrounded him; he only heaved a noiseless sigh--the deep breath +of a man who has accomplished an arduous task. + +Vranic did not get up; he did not move. Was he dead? + +"Dead!" whispered Radonic to himself. + +Just then the body, prostrate at his feet, uttered a low, hoarse, +hollow sound. Was it the soul escaping from the body? + +He looked down, he looked round; black clouds seemed to be whirling +all around him like wreaths of smoke. He durst not move from where he +stood for fear of stumbling against the corpse. + +At last he took out his steel and began to strike a light, but in his +trepidation, he struck his fingers far oftener than his flint. At +last he managed to light a lantern on the table close by, and then +came to look at the man stretched on the floor. + +Oh, what a terrible sight he saw! He had till now seen murdered men +and drowned men, but never had he witnessed such a terrifying sight +before; it was so horrible that, like Gorgon's hideous head, it +fascinated him. + +After a few minutes' dumb contemplation, Radonic heaved again a deep +sigh, and whispered to himself: "It is a pity I did not leave him +time to utter a prayer, to confess his sins, to kiss the holy Cross +or the image of the saints. After all, I did not mean to kill the +soul and body together." Then, prompted by religious superstitions, or +by a Christian feeling--for he was of the Orthodox faith--he went to +a fount of holy water, dipped in it a withered olive twig, and came +to sprinkle the corpse, and made several signs of the holy Cross; +then he knelt down and muttered devoutly several prayers for the rest +of the soul of the man whom he had just murdered; then he sprinkled +and crossed him again. + +Had he opened the gates of paradise to the soul that had taken its +flight? Evidently he felt much comforted after having performed his +religious duties; so, rolling a cigarette, and lighting it at the +lantern, he went to sit on the doorstep outside and smoke. That +cigarette finished, he made another, and then another. At last, after +having puffed and mused for about an hour, he again went into the +house and made a bundle of all the things he wanted to take away with +him. Everything being ready, and feeling hungry, he went to the +cupboard, cut himself a huge slice of bread and a piece of cheese, +which he ate as slowly as if he were keeping watch on board; then he +took a long draught of wine, and, as midnight was striking, he left +the house. + +"I wonder," he thought, "where Milena is; anyhow, it is much better +she is away, for, had she been in the house, she might have given me +no end of useless trouble. Women are so fussy, so unpractical at +times." + +Thereupon he lighted his pipe. + +"Still," he soliloquised, "I should have liked to see her before +starting, to bid her good-bye. Who knows when I'll see her again, if +I ever do see her? And how I hope this affair will be settled soon, +and satisfactorily, too; he has no very near relations, and those he +has will be, in their hearts, most grateful to me." + +He trudged on wearily. When he passed Mara's house, he stopped, +sighed, and muttered to himself: + +"Good-bye! Milena. I loved you in my own churlish way; I loved you, +and if I've been unkind to you, it was all Vranic's fault, for he +drove me on to madness. Anyhow, he has paid for it, and dearly, too; +so may his soul rest in peace!" + +"And now," thought he, "it is useless fooling about; it is better to +be off and free in Montenegro before the murder is discovered and the +Austrian police are after me, for there is no trifling with this +new-fangled government that will not allow people to arrange their +little private affairs--it even belies our own proverb: 'Every one is +free in his own house.'" + +As he left the town, he bethought himself of what he was to do. First +he would see his father-in-law, and ask him to go down to town and +fetch his daughter, for it was useless to leave Milena alone in +Budua; life would not be pleasant there till the business of the +_karvarina_ was settled. Then, as Montenegro was always at war with +Turkey, he supposed that he would, as almost all _hayduk_, have to +take to fighting as an occupation, though, thank God, he said to +himself, not as a means of subsistence. + +It was, however, only at dawn that he managed to get out of the town +gate, together with some peasants going to their early work, and so +he crossed the frontier long before Vranic's murder was known in +town. + +On the morrow, when Milena fainted on the murdered man's corpse, she +was taken up and placed on her bed; she was sprinkled with water and +vinegar; she was chafed and fanned; a burning quill was placed under +her nose, but, as none of these little remedies could recall her to +life, medical help had to be sent for. Even when she came back to her +senses, another fainting-fit soon followed, so that she was almost +the whole day in a comatose state. + +Meanwhile (Tripko having summoned help), the house was filled with +people, who all bustled about, talked very loud, asked and answered +their own questions. Those gifted with more imagination explained to +the others all the incidents of the murder. Last of all came the +guards. Then they, with much ado and self-importance, managed to +clear the house. + +Though Mara would have liked to take Milena back home with her, still +the doctors declared that it was impossible to remove her from her +bed, where for many weeks she lay unconscious and between life and +death, for a strong brain-fever followed the fainting-fits. Her +father and mother (who had come to take her away) tended her, and +love and care succeeded where medical science had failed. + + + + +CHAPTER X + +PRINCE MATHIAS + + +Sailing from Trieste to Ragusa, the _Spera in Dio_ was becalmed just +in front of Lissa; for days and days she lay there on that rippleless +sea, looking like "a painted ship upon a painted ocean." + +It was towards the middle of spring, in that season of the year +called by the Dalmatians the _venturini_, or fortunate months, on +account of the shoals of sardines, anchovies, and mackerel, which +swim up the Adriatic, and towards that eastern part of its shores, +affording the people--whose barren land affords them but scanty +food--the main source of their sustenance. + +At last a faint breeze began to blow; it brought with it the sweet +scent of thyme and sage from the rocky coast only a few miles off, +and made the flabby sails flap gently against the masts, still, +without swelling them at all. Everyone on board the _Spera in Dio_ +was in hopes that the wind would increase when the moon rose, but the +sun went down far away in the offing, all shorn of its rays, and like +a huge ball of fire; then a slight haze arose, dimming the brightness +of the stars, casting over nature a faint, phosphorescent glimmer; +then they knew that the wind would not rise, for "the mist leaves the +weather as it finds it;" at least, the proverb says so. + +Already that afternoon the crew of the _Spera in Dio_ had seen the +waters of the sea--as far as eye could reach--bickering and +simmering; still, they knew that the slight shivering of the waters +was not produced by any ruffling wind, but by the glittering silver +scales of myriads of fish swimming on the surface of the smooth +waters. In fact, a flock of gulls was soon hovering and wheeling over +the main, uttering shrill cries of delight every time they dipped +within the brine and snatched an easy prey; then a number of dolphins +appeared from underneath, and began to plunge and gambol amidst the +shoal, feasting upon the fry. The fish, in a body, made for the +shore, hoping to find protection in shallower waters. Alas! a far +more powerful enemy was waiting for them there. + +Night came on; the fishermen lighted their resinous torches on the +prows of the boats, and the fish, attracted by the sheen, which +reflected itself down in the deep, dark water, were lured within the +double net spread out to catch them. + +When the shoal began to follow the deceptive light, the quiet waters +were struck with mighty, resounding thuds, and the terror-stricken +sardines swam hither and thither, helter-skelter, entangling +themselves within the meshes of that wall of netting spread out to +capture them. + +Thus the whole of that balmy summer night was passed in decoying and +frightening the shoal, in gathering it together, then in driving it +into the inlet where the nets were spread. + +At last, at early dawn, the long-awaited moment came. Every +fisherman, dumb with expectation, grasped the ropes of the net and +tugged with lusty sinews and a rare good-will. For the father, the +sustenance of his children at home lay in those nets; for the lover, +the produce of that first night's fishery would enable him to say +whether he could wed the girl he loves that year, or if the marriage +would have to be postponed till more propitious times. + +The strong men groaned under the weight they were heaving, but not a +word was spoken. Finally, the dripping nets were uplifted out of the +water. It was a rare sight to see the fish glistening like a mass of +molten silver within the brown meshes, just when the first +hyacinthine beams of the dawning sun fell upon their glossy, nacreous +scales. + +The captain and his two mates, the _pobratim_, rowed on shore and +took part in the general rejoicings, for nothing gladdens the heart +of man as abundance; moreover, they made a very good stroke of +business, for, having ready-money, they bought up, and thus secured, +part of their cargo for their return voyage. + +On the morrow, a fresh and steady breeze having begun to blow, the +lazy sails swelled out, the ship flew on the rippling waters, like a +white swan, and that very evening they dropped the anchor at Gravosa, +the port of Ragusa. + +How often the letter we have been so anxiously expecting only comes +to disappoint us, making us feel our sorrow more deeply. + +As soon as the post-office was opened, the _pobratim_ hurried there +to ask for letters. They both received several from their parents. +Uros read, with a sinking heart, what we already know, that Radonic +had killed Vranic, and that Milena was dangerously ill. Milenko +received a letter in a handwriting new to him. With a trembling hand +he tore open the envelope, unfolded the sheet of pale blue Bath +paper, containing an ounce of gold dust in it, and read the following +lines:-- + + +"Honoured Sir,--I take up my pen to keep the promise I so imprudently +made of writing to you, but this, which is the first, must also be +the last letter I ever pen. + +"Perhaps you will be angry with me, and think me inconstant, but +alas! this is not the case. Henceforth, I must never think of you, or +at least, only as a friend. It is not fated that we be man and wife, +and, as marriages are made in heaven, we must submit to what has been +decreed. + +"You must not think me heartless if I write to you in this way, but +the fact is, my father had--even before my birth--promised me in +marriage to the son of one of his friends, and this young man happens +to be your own friend and brother Uros. My only hope now is, that he, +as you hinted, being in love with someone else, will not insist upon +marrying me, or else I shall be the most wretched woman that ever +lived in this world. + +"My father, who is delighted with the marriage, for he has always +mistaken you for Uros, has already written to his old friend Bellacic +to remind him of his plighted word. Perhaps your friend will get his +father to write to mine, and explain the real state of things to him; +if not, I shall dearly regret the day you saved me from certain +death. + +"But why do I write all this to you. Perhaps, as the saying is: 'Far +from the eyes, far from the heart.' You have already forgotten the +wretched girl who owes her life to you, and must therefore love, +cherish, and ever be your most obedient servant, "IVANKA." + + +As poor Milenko read this letter, his cheeks grew pale, his heart +seemed to stop, he almost gasped for breath. He looked around; the +sky seemed to have grown dark, the world dreary, life a burden. Could +it be possible that, when the cup of happiness had touched his lips, +it would be snatched away from him and dashed down? + +The letter which he had read seemed to have muddled his brain. Was it +possible that the girl he loved so dearly was to marry his friend, +who did not care about her? and if she loved him, would she yield +tamely to her father's wish? Alas! what proper girl ever rebelled +against her father's decree? + +Milenko felt as if a hand of steel had been thrust within his breast, +gripped his heart and crushed it. + +All at once he was seized by a dreadful doubt. Did Uros know nothing +about all this, or was he conniving with his father to rob him of his +bride? He looked up at his friend, who was reading the letters he had +just received. The tidings they contained must have been far worse +than his own, for Uros' face was the very picture of despair. + +"What is the matter?" said Milenko; "bad news from home?" + +For all answer Uros handed the letter he had just been reading to his +friend; it was as follows:-- + + +"My dear Son,--The present lines are to inform you that we are both +well, your mother and myself, though, indeed, I have been suffering +with rheumatic pains in my right shoulder and in my left leg, as well +as occasional cramps in my stomach, for which the barber has cupped +me several times. As for your mother, she always suffers with sore +eyes, and though she tries to cure herself with vine-water and the +dew which the flowers distil on St. John's Eve, which is a specific, +as you know, still, it has not afforded her great relief. She is also +often ailing with a pain in her side; but these are only trifles. +Therefore, I hope that this letter will find you, Milenko and the +captain in as good health as that which we at present enjoy, and that +you have had a good and prosperous voyage. Here, at Budua, things are +always about the same. The weather has hitherto been very favourable +to the crops, and, with God's help, we must hope for a good harvest, +though the wind having blown down almost all the blossoms of the +almond-trees, there will be but little fruit. As for the vines, +little can be said as yet; whilst having had a good crop of olives +last year, we cannot expect much this autumn. + +"Our town is always very quiet. A fire only broke out here not long +ago, and it burnt down a few houses. As it was believed to have been +caused on account of a _karvarina_, bloodshed, as usual, ensued. +Another fact, which somewhat upset our town, was the death of Vranic, +who was found murdered in Radonic's house whilst Milena was spending +the evening with us. You may well understand how astonished every one +was, for Radonic and Vranic had been friends from their youth. +Although no one was ever very fond of Radonic, still nobody regretted +Vranic, who, as you know, was gifted with the evil eye; and although +I myself, not being superstitious, do not believe that persons can +harm you simply by looking at you, still it is useless to go against +facts. Poor Milena, who was the first to enter the house after the +murder--although your mother had accompanied her thither--was seized +by such a terrible fright that she remained soulless for many hours, +and has been ill ever since, though with care and good food we hope +to bring her round. + +"I was marvelled to hear how you fell in with the Giulianics, and +that your ship saved them from death. It is certainly a dispensation +of Providence, and--not being an infidel Turk--I do not see _Kismet_ +in everything that happens; still, the hand of the Almighty God is +clearly visible in all this. + +"Giulianic and I were friends when he, Markovic and myself were poor +folk, struggling hard to live and to put by a penny for a rainy day. +All three of us have, thank Heaven, succeeded beyond our +expectations, for I am glad to hear, by your account as well as his +own, that he is in such good circumstances. + +"One day--long before you were born--talking together and joking, we +made each other a kind of promise, more for the fun of the thing than +for anything else, that if we should have, the one a son, and the +other a daughter, we should marry them to each other. Not to forget +our promises, we exchanged tobacco-pouches. To tell you the truth, +not having heard of the Giulianics for so many years, I had all but +forgotten my promise, and I daresay he looked at his own pledge as a +kind of joke. On receiving your letter, however, I at once wrote to +this old friend, sending him back his gold-embroidered pouch and +redeeming mine. He at once wrote back a most affectionate letter, +saying that he was but too happy to give his daughter to the young +man who had saved Ivanka's life, but, apparently, had stolen away her +heart. Therefore, my dear son, you may henceforth consider yourself +engaged to the girl of your choice; and may the blessing of God and +of the holy Virgin rest on you both for ever. + +"Your mother wishes me to tell you not to forget your prayers morning +and evening, to try and keep all the fasts, and to light a candle to +St. Nicholas whenever you go on shore, so that he may keep you from +storms and shipwrecks. Besides, she bids me tell you, that if you +want more underclothing, to write to her in time, so that she may +prepare everything you need. + + "Your loving father, + + "Milos Bellacic." + + +Whilst Milenko was reading this letter, doubt returned several times +within his heart, and began to gnaw at it. As soon as he had +finished, he handed it back to Uros, and seeing his honest eyes fixed +upon him, as if asking for consolation, all doubts were at once +dispelled. + +"Well," said Uros, "it isn't enough to think that Milena is ill, but +all this complication must arise." + +"As for Milena," replied Milenko, "she is much better; here is a +letter from my mother, written after yours, in which she says that +she is quite out of danger." + +Comforted with the idea that the woman he loved was better, Uros +could not help smiling, then almost laughing. + +Milenko looked at him, astonished. + +"After all, this is your fault," said Uros. + +"Mine?" + +"Of course; you would insist in allowing old Giulianic to believe you +were myself; now there is only one thing left for you." + +"What?" + +"To act your part out." + +"I don't quite understand." + +"Go to Nona, and marry Ivanka at once; when married, Giulianic will +have to give you his blessing." + +"Oh! but----" + +"But what?" + +"I don't think Ivanka will consent." + +"If she loves you she will. I wish it was as easy for me to marry +Milena as it is for you to wed Ivanka." + +"But wouldn't it be better to get the father's consent?" + +"Old people are stubborn; once they get a thing into their heads, +it's difficult to get it out again." + +"Yes, but if----" + +"With 'buts' and 'ifs' you'll never marry." + +"What are you discussing?" said the captain, coming up. + +"Oh! I was simply saying that only a daring man deserves to wed the +girl he loves," said Uros. + +"Of course; don't you know the story of Prince Mathias?" + +"No," replied the young man. + +"Well, then, as we have nothing to do just now, listen, and I'll tell +it to you." + + +Once, in those long bygone times when rats fought with frogs, +tortoises ran races with hares and won them, pussies went about in +boots, and--I was going to add--women wore breeches, but, then, that +would not be such an extraordinary occurrence even now-a-days; well, +in those remote times, there lived a King who had a beautiful +daughter, as fair as the dawning sun, and as wise as an old rabbi +versed in the Kabala. In fact, she was so handsome and so learned +that her reputation had spread far and wide, and many a Prince had +come from far away beyond the sea to offer his hand and heart to this +wonderful Princess. She, however, would have none of them, for she +found that, although they--as a rule--rode like jockeys, drove like +cabmen and swore like carters, they were, on the whole, slow-coaches; +none of them, for instance, were good at repartee, none could discuss +German pessimism, and all--on the contrary--found that life was worth +living; so she would have nothing to do with them. + +She, therefore, send heralds to all the Courts of Chivalry to +proclaim that she would only wed the Prince who, for three successive +nights, could sit up and watch in her room, without falling asleep +and allowing her to escape. + +Every Prince who heard of the proclamation thought it a good joke, +and the candidates for the Princess's hand greatly increased. A host +of _Durchlauchten_ from the most sacred Protestant empire of Germany, +flocked--_Armen-reisender_ fashion--and offered to sit up in the +Princess's room for three nights, or even more if she desired it. + +Alas, for the poor Highnesses! every one paid the trial with his +life. The Princess--who knew a thing or two--provided for their +entertainment an unlimited supply of _Lager Bier_, and, moreover--it +was a cruel joke--she had a few pages read to them of the very book +each one had written, for, in those literary times, every Prince was +bound to write a book. At the end of the first chapter every Prince +snored. + +It happened that Prince Mathias--the only son and heir of a queen who +reigned in an out-of-the-way island, which was believed by its +inhabitants to be the centre of the world--heard of this strange +proclamation. He was the very flower of chivalry in those days, +strong as a bull, handsome as a stag--though rather inclined to be +corpulent--brave as a falcon, and as amorous as a cat in spring-time. +He at once resolved to risk his head, and go and spend the three +nights in the Princess's bedroom. + +His mother--a pious old lady, an excellent housekeeper, much attached +to her domestics, and known throughout the world as an elegant writer +of diaries--did her utmost to dissuade her son from his foolish +project; but all her wise remonstrances were in vain. Prince Mathias, +who was not the most dutiful of sons, allowed his mother to jaw away +till she was purple in the face, but her words went in by one ear and +out by the other; he remained steadfast to his purpose. Seeing at +last that praying and preaching were of no avail, Her Gracious +Majesty consented to her son's departure with royal grace. She doled +out to him a few ducats, stamped with her own effigy, and, knowing +his unthrifty ways, she said to herself: "He'll not go very far with +that." Then she presented him with a shawl to keep him warm at +nights, and she blessed him with her chubby hands, begging him to try +and keep out of mischief now that he had reached the years of +discretion. + +Mathias, wrapped up in his shawl, went off to seek his fortune. As he +was tramping along the high-road, he happened to meet a stout, +sleek-headed man who was lounging on the roadside. + +The Prince--who was very off-handed in his ways, and not very +particular as to the company he kept, or to the number of his +attachments, as the Opposition papers said--hailed the stout, +sleek-headed man. + +"Whither wanderest thou, my friend?" said Mathias to the loafer. + +"I tramp about the world in search of happiness," quoth he. + +"You're not a German philosopher, I hope?" asked the Prince, +terror-stricken. + +"I'm a true-born Dutchman, sir," retorted the loafer, with much +dignity. + +"Give us your paw," said His Highness. + +The friends shook hands. + +"What's your trade, my man?" + +"Well, I'm a kind of Jack-of-all-trades, without any trade in +particular--and yours?" + +"I'll be a kind of general overseer some day or other." + +"Good job?" + +"Used to be much better--too many strikes nowadays." + +"I see; it ruins the trade, does it?" + +"Our trade especially." + +"So?" + +"But what's your name?" asked the Prince. + +"Well, I'm generally known as 'The Big One.' You see, I can stretch +out my stomach to such a pitch that I can shelter a whole regiment of +soldiers in it. Shouldn't you like to see me do the trick?" + +"Swell away!" ejaculated the Prince. + +The Big One thereupon puffed and puffed himself out, and swelled +himself to such a pitch that he blocked up the highway from one side +to the other. + +"Bravo!" cried the Prince; "you're a swell!" + +"I'm a sell," said The Big One, smiling modestly. + +"A cell, indeed! But, I say, where did you learn that trick?" + +"Up in Thibet." + +"You're an adept, are you?" + +"I am," said the loafer. + +Mathias crossed himself devoutly. + +"I say, don't you want to accompany me in my wanderings, in a _sans +façon_ way?" + +"And take pot-luck with you?" said the adept, with a wink. + +Mathias took the hint. He jingled the few dollars he had in his +pocket, counted the six gold ducats his mamma had given him, and +reckoned the enormous amount of food his new friend might consume. On +the other hand, he bethought himself how useful a man who could +swallow a whole regiment might be in case of an insurrection; so he +shrugged his shoulders, and muttered to himself: + +"There'll be a row at the next meeting of the Witena-gemote, when my +debts 'll have to be paid; but if they want me to keep up appearances, +they must fork out the tin." Thereupon, turning to The Big One, he +added, magnificently: "It's a bargain." + +"You're a brick," said The Big One. + +On the morrow they met another tramp, so tall and so thin that he +looked like a huge asparagus, or like a walking minaret. His name was +The Long One; and he could, even without standing on tiptoe, lengthen +himself in such a way as to reach the clouds. Moreover, every step he +made was the distance of a mile. + +As he, too, was seeking his fortune, the Prince took him on in his +suite. + +The day after that, as the three were going through a wood, they came +across a man with such flashing eyes that he could light a +conflagration with only one of his glances. Of course, they took him +on with them. + +After tramping about for three days, they got to the castle where the +wonderful Princess lived. Mathias held a council with his friends, +and told them of his intentions. Then he changed his gold ducats, +pawned his mother's shawl, bought decent clothes for the tramps, and +made his entrance into the town with all the pomp and splendour due +to his rank. + +As he was travelling _incog._, he sent his card--a plain one without +crown or coat-of-arms--to the King of the place, announcing that he +had come with his followers to spend three nights in his daughter's +bedroom. + +"Followers not admitted," replied the King. + +"All right!" retorted the Prince, ruefully. + +"You know the terms, I suppose?" + +"Death or victory!" + +The King made him a long speech, terse and pithy, as royal speeches +usually are. The Prince, who listened with all attention, tried to +yawn without opening his mouth. + +"Yawn like a man!" said the King; "I don't mind it, do you?" said he +to the prime minister, who had written the speech. + +"I'm used to it," said the premier. + +"Well! do you persist in your intention?" asked the King at the end +of the speech. + +"I do!" quoth the Prince. + +"Then I'll light you up to my daughter's door." + +Having reached the landing of the second floor, the King shook hands +with the Prince and his followers; he wished them good-night; still, +he lingered for a while on the threshold. + +Mathias was dazzled with the superhuman beauty of the royal maiden, +who was quite a garden in herself, for she was as lithe as a lily, as +graceful as a waving bough, with a complexion like jasmines and +roses, eyes like forget-me-nots, a mouth like a cherry, breasts like +pomegranates, and as sweet a breath as mignonette. + +She could not hide the admiration she felt for Mathias, and +congratulated him especially on never having written a book. + +When the old King heard that Mathias was not an author, he was so +sorely troubled that he took up his candle and went off to bed. + +No sooner had His Majesty taken himself off than The Big One went and +crouched on the threshold of the door; The Long One made himself +comfortable on one of the window-sills; The Man with the Flashing +Eyes on the other. All three pretended to go off to sleep, but in +reality they were all watching the Princess, who was carrying on a +lively conversation with Mathias. + +"Do you like Schopenhauer?" asked the royal maiden, with a smile like +a peach blossom opening its petals to the breeze. + +"I like you," said Mathias, looking deep in the eyes of the young +girl, who at once blushed demurely. + +"But you don't answer my question," she said. + +"Well, no," quoth Mathias; "I don't like Schopenhauer." + +"Why not?" + +"Because we differ in tastes." + +"How so?" + +"You see, I'm rather fond of the girls; he isn't." + +"Of all girls?" asked the Princess, alarmed. + +"All girls in general, but you in particular," added Mathias with a +wink. + +The young girl thought it advisable to change the conversation. + +After a while the Princess began to yawn. + +"Sleepy, eh?" said Mathias, with a smile. + +"I feel as if a rain of poppies was weighing down my eyelids." + +"Have a snooze, then." + +"I'm afraid you'll feel rather lonely, sitting up by yourself all +night." + +"Oh! don't mind me," said Mathias; "I never turn in very early; +besides, I'll have a game of _patience_." + +"But I've got no cards to offer you," said the Princess. + +"I have; I never travel without a pack in my pocket." + +"You're sharp." + +"Sharper than many who think themselves sharp." + +Mathias settled himself comfortably at a table and began to play. The +Princess undressed, said her prayers, then went off to bed. + +The Prince played one, two, three games; then he felt his throat +rather dry, and would have given half of his kingdom for a glass of +grog; than he began to wonder if there was any whisky in the house. + +Just then, he heard the three men snoring, and the little Princess +purring away like a wee kitten. He stretched his arms and his legs, +for he felt himself getting stiff. He then tried to play another +game, but he could not go on with it; for he kept mistaking the +hearts for the diamonds, and then could no more distinguish the clubs +from the spades. He also began to feel chilly, and was sorry not to +have his mammy's shawl to wrap himself up in. He, therefore, laid his +elbows on the table, and his head between the palms of his hands, and +stared at the Princess, whom he fancied looked very much like the +sleeping beauty at the waxworks. + +Little by little his eyelids waxed heavy, his pupils got to be +smaller and smaller, his sight grew blurred, and then everything in +front of him disappeared. Prince Mathias was snoring majestically. + +"It took him a long time to drop off, but he's asleep at last," said +the Princess, with a sigh. + +She thereupon changed herself into the likeness of a dove, and flew +out of the window where The Long One was asleep. Only, on making her +escape, she happened to graze the sleeping man's hair. He forthwith +started up, and, seeing that the Princess's bed was empty, he at once +gave the alarm, and woke The Man with the Flashing Eyes, who cast a +long look in the darkness outside. That burning glance falling upon +the dove's wings singed them in such a way that she was obliged to +take shelter in a neighbouring tree. The Man with the Flashing Eyes +kept a sharp watch, and the splendour of his pupils, shining on the +bird, were like the revolving rays of a lighthouse. The Long One +thereupon put his head out of the window, stretched out his hand a +mile off, grasped the dove, and quietly handed her to Mathias. + +No sooner had Mathias pressed the dove to his heart than, lo and +behold! he found that he was clasping in his arms, not a bird, but +the Princess herself. + +Mathias could not help uttering a loud exclamation of surprise; the +three men uttered the selfsame exclamation. All at once the door of +the Princess's bedroom flew open with a bang. The old King appeared +on the threshold, with a dip in his hand. His Majesty looked very +much put out. + +"I say, what's all this row about?" said he; "billing and cooing at +this time of the night, eh?" Thereupon His Majesty frowned. + +The Princess nestled in Mathias's arms, blushing like a peony, for +she saw that the flowing sleeves of her nightgown were dreadfully +singed, and she knew that the colour would never go off in the wash. + +The King, casting a stealthy look round the room, saw the cards on +the little table by the Princess's bed, and pointing them out to +Mathias with a jerk of his thumb: + +"I see your little tricks, sir, and with your own cards, too; +gambling again, eh?" + +Mathis looked as sheepish as a child caught with his finger in a +jam-pot. The King thereupon snuffed the wick of his candle with his +own royal fingers, picked up the ermine-bordered train of his +night-gown and stalked off to bed, without even saying good-night +again. + +"Your father's put out," said Mathias to the Princess. + +"He's thinking of the expense you'll be putting him to, you and your +suite." + +"What! is he going to ask us to dinner?" + +"Can't help it, can he?" and the Princess chuckled. + +On the second night the Princess flew away in the likeness of a fly; +but she was soon brought back. On the third night she transformed +herself into a little fish, and gave the three men no end of trouble +to fish her out of the pond in which she had plunged. + +At last the Princess confessed herself vanquished. Mathias had been +the only one of all her suitors who had managed to get her back every +time she had escaped; moreover, she had been quite smitten by his +jovial character and convivial ways. + +The old King, however, strenuously disapproved of his daughter's +choice. Mathias was not a _Durchlaucht_, he had never written a book, +and, moreover, he played _patience_ with his own pack of cards. He, +therefore, resolved to oppose his daughter's marriage, and, being an +autocrat, his will was law in his own country. + +Mathias, however, presented the King with a packet of photographs +that he happened to have about him; they were all respectable ladies +of his acquaintance, belonging to different _corps de ballet_. So +while the King was trying to find out, with a magnifying-glass, what +Miss Mome Fromage had done with her other leg--like the tin soldier +in Andersen's tale--Mathias ran off with the Princess. + +Then the King got dreadfully angry and ordered his guards to run +after the fugitives. + +The Princess, hearing the tramp of horses' feet, asked The Man with +the Flashing Eyes to look round and see who was pursuing them. + +"I see a squadron of cavalry riding full speed," said The Man with +the Flashing Eyes. + +"It's my father's body-guard." + +"Hadn't we better hide in a bush, and leave them to ride on?" asked +Mathias. + +"No," replied the Princess. + +Seeing the horsemen approach, she took off the long veil she wore at +the back of her head, and threw it at them. + +"As many threads as there are in this veil, may as many trees arise +between us." + +In a twinkling, a dense forest arose, like a drop-scene, between the +fugitives and the guards. + +Mathias and his bride had not gone very far, when they heard again +the sound of horses. + +The Man with the Flashing Eyes looked round and saw again the King's +body-guard galloping after them. + +"Can you dodge them again?" asked Mathias. + +The Princess, for an answer, dropped a tear, and then bade it swell +into a deep river between them and their pursuers. + +The river rolled its massy waters through the plain, while Mathias +and his bride strolled away unmolested. + +Again they heard the sound of horses' hoofs; again the guards were +about to seize the runaways; again the Princess, drawing herself up +in all the majesty of her little person, stretched out her arm +threateningly, and ordered the darkness of the night to wrap them up +as with a deep shroud. + +At these words, The Long One grew longer and ever longer, until he +reached the clouds; then, taking off his cap, he deftly clapped it on +half of the sun's disc, leaving the royal guards quite in the shade. + +When Mathias and his bride were about ten miles off, The Long One +strode away and caught up with them after ten steps. + +Mathias was already in sight of his own castellated towers, when the +clatter of horses was again heard close behind them. + +"There'll be bloodshed soon," said the Prince to his bride. + +"Oh! now leave them all to me," said The Big One; "it's my turn now." + +The lovers, followed by The Long One and The Man with the Flashing +Eyes, entered the city by a postern, whilst The Big One squatted +himself down at the principal gate and puffed himself out; then he +opened his mouth as wide as the gate itself, so that it looked like a +barbican. Thus he waited for the dauntless life-guards, who, in fact, +came riding within his mouth as wildly as the noble six hundred had +ridden within the jaws of death. + +When the last one had disappeared, The Big One rose quietly, but at +the same time with some difficulty, and tottered right through the +town. It was an amusing sight to see his huge bloated paunch flap +hither and thither at every step he made. Having reached the opposite +gate, he again crouched down, opened his capacious mouth and spouted +out all the life-guards, horses and all; and it was funny to see them +ride off in a contrary direction, evidently hoping to overtake the +fugitives soon, whilst the Prince, his bride and his suite were on +the battlements, splitting with laughter at the trick played on their +pursuers. + +The old Queen was rejoiced to see her truant son come back so soon, +and, moreover, not looking at all as seedy as he usually did after his +little escapades. Still, she could not help showing her +dissatisfaction about two things. The first was that Mathias had +pawned her parting gift; the second that the Princess had come +without a veil. + +This last circumstance was, however, easily explained; and then Her +Most Gracious Majesty allowed the light of her countenance to shine +on her future daughter-in-law. + +The Long One was forthwith sent back to the old King, asking him, by +means of a parchment letter, to come and assist at his daughter's +wedding. His Majesty, hearing who Mathias really was, hastened to +accept the invitation. He donned his crown, took a few valuables with +him in a carpet-bag, fuming and fretting all the time at having to +start--like a tailless fox--without his body-guard. Just as he was +setting out, The Long One, stretching his neck a few miles above the +watch tower and looking round, saw the horsemen riding back full +speed towards the castle. The old King hearing this news, shook his +head, very much puzzled, for he could not understand how the +horsemen, who had ridden out by one gate, could be coming back by the +other. The Long One explained to the King (what they never would have +been able to explain themselves) that they had simply ridden round +the world and come back the other side. His Majesty, who would +otherwise have had all his guards put to death, forgave them right +graciously, and to show Mathias that he bore him no ill-will, he +presented him, as a wedding gift, with a valuable shawl he had just +got second-hand at a pawnbroker's. That gift quite mollified the old +Queen, and forthwith, as by enchantment, all the clouds looming on +the political horizon disappeared, and the nuptials of Mathias and +the Princess took place with unusual splendour. + +The Princess gave up her freaks of disappearing in the middle of the +night, Mathias never played _patience_ with his own cards any more, +and both set their people an example of conjugal virtue. + +High posts at Court were created for the Prince's three friends, and +they, indeed, often showed themselves remarkably useful. For +instance, if a Prime Minister ever showed himself obstreperous, The +Long One would stretch out his arm, catch him by the collar of his +coat, and put him for a few days on some dark cloud under which the +thunder was rumbling. If a meddling editor ever wrote an article +against the prevailing state of things, The Man with the Flashing +Eyes cast a look at his papers, and the fire brigade had a great ado +to put out the conflagration that ensued. If the people, dissatisfied +with peace and plenty, met in the parks to sing the Marseillaise, The +Big One had only to open his mouth and they at once all went off as +quietly as Sunday-school children, and all fell to singing the +National Anthem. Anarchy, therefore, was unknown in a land so well +governed, and flowing with milk and honey. + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +MANSLAUGHTER + + +The _Spera in Dio_ having reached Gravosa, it discharged the timber +it had taken for Ragusa, and loaded a valuable cargo of tobacco from +Trebigne in its stead. The ship was now lying at anchor, ready to set +sail with the fresh morning breeze. + +It was in the evening. The captain was in hopes to start on the +morrow; for at night it is a difficult task to steer a ship through +that maze of sunken rocks and jagged reefs met with all along the +entrance of the Val d'Ombla. + +The _pobratim_ had been talking together for some time. Uros had +tried to persuade his friend to go and marry Ivanka before the +mistake under which her father was labouring had been cleared up; but +the more the plan was discussed, the less was Milenko convinced +of its feasibility. + +Uros at last, feeling rather sleepy, threw himself into his hammock, +and soon afterwards closed his eyes. Milenko, instead, stood for some +time with his arms resting on the main-yard, smoking and thinking, +his eyes fixed on the moon, in its wane, now rising beyond the rocky +coast, from which the cypresses uplifted their dark spires, and the +flowering aloes reared their huge stalks. + +The warm breeze blew towards him a smell of orange blossoms from the +delightful Val d'Ombla, and the fragrancy of the Agnus castus, the +Cretan sage, and other balmy herbs and shrubs from that little Garden +of Eden--the Island of La Croma. Feeling that he could not go to +sleep, even if he tried, and finding the earth so fair, bathed as it +was now by the silvery light of the moon, he made up his mind to go +on shore and have a stroll along the strand. + +What made him leave the ship at that late hour, and go to roam on the +deserted shore? Surely one of those secret impulses of fate, of which +we are not masters. + +He had walked listlessly for some time on the road leading to Ragusa, +when he heard the loud, discordant sounds of two men, apparently +drunk, wrangling with each other. The men went on, then stopped +again, then once more resumed their walk; but, at every step they +made, their voices grew louder, their tones angrier. Both spoke Slav; +but, evidently, one of the two must have been a foreigner. Milenko +followed them, simply for the sake of doing something. When he got +nearer, he understood that the cause of the quarrel was not a woman, +as he had believed at first, but a sum of money which the Slav had +lent to the foreigner. + +As they kept repeating the selfsame things over and over, Milenko got +tired of their discussion and was about to turn back. Just then, +however, the two men stopped again. The Slav called the stranger a +thief, who in return apostrophised him as a dog of a Turk. From words +they now proceeded to blows; but, drunk as they apparently were, they +did not seem to hurt each other very much. Milenko hastened on to see +the struggle, for there is a latent instinct, even in the most +peaceable man's nature, that makes him enjoy seeing a fight. + +By the time Milenko came in sight of the two men, they had begun to +fight in real earnest; blows followed blows, kicks kicks; the Slav +--or rather, Turk--roused by the stranger's taunts, seemed to be +getting over his drunkenness. He was a tall, powerful man, and +Milenko saw him grip his adversary by his neck. Then the two men +grappled with each other, reeled in their struggle, then rolled down +on the ground. He heard the thud of their fall. Milenko hastened to +try and separate them. As he got nearer he could see them clearly, +for the light of the moon fell upon them. The stronger man was +holding his adversary pinned down, and was muttering the same curses +over and over again; but he did not seem to be ill-using him very +much. + +"Leave me alone," muttered the other, "or, by my faith, it'll be so +much the worse for you!" + +"Your faith! you have no faith, you dog of a giaour!" growled the +other. + +"I have no faith, have I? Well, then, here, if I have no faith!" + +Milenko, for a moment, saw a knife glitter in the moonlight, then it +disappeared. He heard at the same time a loud groan. He ran up to +help the man from being murdered, regardless of his own safety. + +The powerful man was trying to snatch the knife from his adversary's +hand, but, as he was unable to do so, he rose, holding his side, from +which the blood was rushing. + +"Now you'll have your money!" said the little man, with a hideous +laugh, and he lifted up his hand and stabbed his adversary +repeatedly. + +Milenko pulled out his own knife as he reached the spot, but he only +got in time to catch the dying man in his arms and to be covered with +his blood. + +The murderer simply looked at his adversary, and hearing him breathe +his last, "He's done for," he added; then he turned on his heels and +disappeared. + +Poor Milenko was stunned for a moment, as he heard the expiring man's +death-rattle. + +What could he do to help him? Was life ebbing? had it ebbed all away? +he asked himself. Was he dead, or only fainting? could he do nothing +to recall him to life? + +As he was lost in these thoughts he heard the heavy tramp of +approaching feet, and before he could realise the predicament in +which he had placed himself, the night-watch had come up to the spot +and had arrested him as the murderer. + +"Why do you arrest me?" said he. "I have only come here by chance to +help this poor man." + +"I daresay you have," said the sergeant, taking the blood-stained +dagger from his hand. + +"But I tell you I do not even know this poor man." + +"Come, it's useless arguing with us; you'll have to do that with your +judges. March on." + +"But when I tell you that I only heard a scuffle and ran up----" + +"Then where's the murderer?" asked one of the guards. + +"He's just run off." + +"What kind of a man was he?" + +"I hardly saw him." + +"And where do you come from?" asked the sergeant. + +"From on board my boat, the _Spera in Dio_, now lying at Gravosa." + +"And where were you going to?" + +"Nowhere." + +"Oh! you were taking a little stroll at this time of the night?" + +The men laughed. + +"Come, we're only wasting time----" + +"But----" + +"Stop talking; you'll have enough of that at Ragusa." + +"But I tell you I'm innocent of that man's death." + +"You are always innocent till you are about to be hanged, and even +then sometimes." + +Milenko shuddered. + +Thereupon the guards, taking out a piece of rope, began tying the +young man's hands behind his back. + +"Leave me free; I'll follow you. I've nothing on my conscience to +frighten me." + +Still, they would not listen to him, but led him away like a +murderer. They walked on for a little more than half-an-hour on the +dark road, and at last they arrived at Porta Pilla, one of the gates +of Ragusa. They crossed the principal street, called the Stradone, +and soon reached the Piazza dei Signori. The quiet town was quieter +than ever at these early dawning hours. The heavy steps of the guards +resounded on the large stone flags with which the town is paved, and +re-echoed from the granite walls of the churches and palaces. + +Poor Milenko was conducted to the guard-house, and when the sergeant +stated how he had been found clasping the dead man, holding, +moreover, the blood-stained dagger in his hand, he, without more ado, +was thrust into the narrow cell of the prison. + +Alone, in utter darkness, a terrible fear came over him. How could he +ever prove that he had not murdered the unknown man with whose blood +his clothes were soaked? + +The assassin was surely far away now, and, even if he were not, he +doubtless knew that another man had been caught in his stead, and he, +therefore, would either keep quiet or stealthily leave the town. If +he had at least caught a glimpse of the murderer's face, then he +might recognise him again; but he had seen little more than two dark +forms struggling together. Nothing else than that. + +Then he asked himself if God--if the good Virgin--would allow them to +condemn him to death innocently? He fell on his knees, crossed +himself, and uttered many prayers; but, during the whole time, he saw +his body hanging on the gallows, and, with that frightful sight +before his eyes, his prayers did not comfort him much. + +Then he began to fancy that he must have been guilty of some sin for +which he was now being punished. Though he recalled to mind all his +past life, though he magnified every little misdemeanour, still he +could not find anything worthy of such a punishment. He had kept all +the fasts; he had gone to church whenever he had been able to do so; +he had lighted a sufficient number of candles to the saints to secure +their protection. If, at times, he had been guilty of cursing, of +calling the blessed Virgin Mary opprobrious names, he only had done +so as a mere habit, as everybody else does, quite unintentionally. +The priest--at confession--had always admonished him against this bad +habit; but he had duly done penance for these trifling sins, and he +had got the absolution. + +He asked himself why he was so unlucky. He had not fallen in love +with his neighbour's wife, nor asked for impossible things. Why could +not life run on smoothly for him, as it did for everybody else? What +devil had prompted him to leave his ship at a time when he might have +been quietly asleep? Then the thought struck him that, after all, +this was only a bewildering dream, from which he would awake and +laugh at on the morrow. + +He got up, walked about his narrow cell, feeling his way in the +darkness. Alas! this was no dream. + +Then he thought of his parents; he pictured to himself the grief they +would feel at hearing of his misfortune. His mother's heart would +surely burst should he be found guilty and be condemned to be hanged. +And his father--would he, too, believe him to be a murderer? + +He again sank on his knees, and uttered a prayer; not the usual +litanies which he had been taught, but a _Kyrie Eleison_, a cry for +help rising from the innermost depths of his breast. + +The darkness of the prison was so oppressive that it seemed to him as +if his prayer could never go through those massive stone walls; +therefore, instead of being comforted, doubt and dread weighed +heavily upon him. In that mood he recalled to his mind all the +incidents of a gloomy story which had once been related to him about +a little Venetian baker-boy, who, like himself, had been found guilty +of manslaughter. This unfortunate youth had been imprisoned, cruelly +tortured, and then put to death. When it was too late, the real +murderer confessed his guilt; but then the poor boy was festering in +his grave. + +Still, he would not despair, for surely Uros must, on the morrow, +hear of his dreadful plight, and then he would use every possible and +impossible means to save him. + +But what if the ship started on the morrow, leaving him behind, a +stranger in an unknown town? + +The tears which had been gathering in his eyes began to roll down his +cheeks in big, burning drops, and now that they began to flow he +could not stop them any more. He crouched in a corner, and, as the +cold, grey gloaming light of early dawn crept through the grated +window of his cell, his heavy eyelids closed themselves at last; +sleep shed its soothing balm on his aching brain. + +Not long after Milenko had gone on shore, Uros woke suddenly from his +sleep. He had dreamt that a short, dark-haired, swarthy, one-eyed +man, with a face horribly pitted by small-pox, was murdering his +friend; and yet it was not Milenko either, but some one very much +like him. + +He jumped up, groped his way to his mate's hammock and was very much +astonished not to find him there. Having lost his sleep, he lit a +cigarette and went to look down into the waters below. The sea on +that side of the ship was as smooth and as dark as a black mirror. He +had not been gazing long when, as usual, he began to see sparks, then +fiery rods whirling about and chasing each other. The rods soon +changed into snakes of all sizes and colours, especially +greenish-blue and purple. They twirled and twisted into the most +fantastic shapes; then they all sank down in the waters and +disappeared. All this was nothing new; but, when they vanished, he +was startled to behold, in their stead, the face of the pitted man he +had just seen in his sleep stare at him viciously with his single +eye. He drew back, frightened, and the face vanished. After an +instant, he looked again; he saw nothing more, but the inky waters +seemed thick with blood. + +The next morning Milenko was looked for everywhere uselessly. Uros, +who was the last person that had seen him, related how he had gone +off to sleep and had left him leaning on the main-yard. At first, +every one thought that he had gone on shore for something, and that +he would be back presently; but time passed and Milenko did not make +his appearance. The wind was favourable, the sails were spread, they +had only to heave the anchor to start; everybody began to fear that +some accident had happened to him to detain him on shore. Uros was +continually haunted by his dream, especially by the face of the +single-eyed man. He offered to go in search of his friend. + +"Well," replied the captain, "I think I'll come with you; two'll find +him quicker than one alone, for now we have no time to lose." + +They went on shore and enquired at a coffee-house, but the sleepy +waiters could not give them any information. They asked some boatmen +lounging about the wharf, still with no better success. A porter from +Ragusa finally said that he had heard of a murder committed that +night on the road, but all the particulars were, as yet, unknown. +Doubtless it was a skirmish between some smugglers and the watch. + +Anyhow, when Uros heard of bloodshed, his heart sank within him, and +the image of the swarthy man appeared before the eyes of his mind, +and he fancied his friend weltering in a pool of dark blood. + +"Had we not better go at once to Ragusa? we might hear something +about him there?" said the captain to Uros. + +"But do you think he can have been murdered?" + +"Murdered? No; what a foolish idea! He had no money about him; he was +dressed like a common sailor; he could not have been flirting with +somebody's sweetheart. Why should he have been murdered?" + +The two men hired a gig and drove off at once. When they reached +Ragusa, they found the quiet town in a bustle on account of a murder +that had taken place on the roadside. The old counts and marquises of +the republic forgot their wonted dignity--forgot even their drawling +way of speaking--and questioned the barber, the apothecary, or the +watch at the town gate with unusual fluency. + +A murder on the road to Gravosa! A most unheard-of thing. Soon people +would be murdered within the very walls of the town! Such things had +never happened in the good olden times! + +"And who was the murdered man?" asked one. + +"A stranger." + +"And the murderer?" + +"A stranger, too; a mere boy, they say." + +"Oh! that explains matters," added a grave personage; "but if +strangers will murder each other, why do they not stay at home and +slaughter themselves?" + +Such were the snatches of conversation Uros and the captain heard on +alighting at Porta Pilla; and as they asked their way to the police +station, everybody stared at them, and felt sure that in some way or +other they were connected with the murder. + +At the police station, the captain stated how his mate had +disappeared from on board, and asked permission to see the murdered +man. They were forthwith led to the mortuary-chapel, and they were +glad to see that the corpse was a perfect stranger. + +"What kind of a person is the young man you are looking for?" asked +the guard who had accompanied them. + +"Rather above the middle height, slim but muscular, with greyish-blue +eyes, a straight nose, a square chin, curly hair, and a small dark +moustache." + +"And dressed like a sailor?" + +"Yes." + +"Exactly as you are?" said he to Uros. + +"Yes; have you seen him?" + +"Why, yes; he is the murderer." + +Uros shuddered; the captain laughed. + +"There must be some mistake," said the latter. "You have arrested the +wrong person; such things do happen occasionally." + +"He was arrested while struggling with the man he killed. He was not +only all dripping with blood, but he still held his dagger in his +hand." + +"With all that, it's some mistake; for he didn't know this man," said +the captain, pointing to the corpse stretched out before them. "If he +did kill him, then it was done in self-defence." + +"But where is he now?" asked Uros. + +"Why, in prison, of course." + +Uros shuddered again. + +"We can see him, can't we?" said the captain. + +"You must apply to the authorities." + +The departure of the _Spera in Dio_ had to be put off for some days. +Uros went on board the ship, whilst the captain remained at Ragusa to +look after his lost mate. There he soon found out that, in fact, it +was Milenko who had been arrested; and after a good deal of trouble +he succeeded in seeing him. + +Although he did his best to comfort him and assure him that in a few +days the real murderer would be found, he could not help thinking +that the evidence was dead against him. Anyhow, he had him +transferred to a better cell, and, by dint of _backseesh_, saw that +his bodily comforts were duly attended to. + +On the following day, the captain, Uros and the crew were examined; +and all were of opinion that Milenko could not possibly ever have +been acquainted with the unknown man, and, therefore, had no possible +reason for taking away his life. The great difficulty, meanwhile, was +to find out who the murdered man really was, from where he had come, +whither he was going in the middle of the night. + +After that, the captain went to a lawyer's; and having put the whole +affair in his hands, found out that he could do nothing more for +Milenko than he had already done; so he went and lit a candle for his +sake, recommended him to the mercy of the Virgin and good St. +Nicholas, and decided to start on the following morning, without any +further and unprofitable delay. Had the young man been his own son, +he would not have acted otherwise. Uros, however, decided to remain +behind, and join the ship at Trieste after a few days. + +On the morrow Uros, after having seen the _Spera in Dio_ disappear, +went to spend a few hours with his friend. A week passed in this way; +then, not knowing in what way to help Milenko, he bethought himself +to seek the aid of some old woman versed in occult lore, in whose +wisdom he had much more faith than in the wordy learning of gossiping +lawyers. + +Having succeeded in hearing of such a one from the inn-keeper's wife, +he went to her at once and explained what he wanted of her. + +She looked at him steadily for a while; then she went to an old chest +and took out a quaint little mirror of dark, burnished metal, and +making him sit in a corner, bade him look steadily within it. As soon +as he was seated, she took a piece of black cloth, like a pall, and +stretched it around him, screening him from every eye. Having done +this, she threw some powder on the fire, which, burning, filled the +room with fragrant smoke, or rather, with white vapour, which had a +heady smell of roses. After a few moments of silence, she took the +_guzla_ and played, as a kind of prelude, a pathetic, dirge-like +melody; then she began to sing in a low, lamentable tone, Vuk +Stefanovic Karadzic's song, entitled-- + + +GOD'S JUSTICE. + + Upon a lonely mead two pine-trees grew, + And 'twixt the two a lowly willow-tree; + No pines were those upon the lonely mead, + Where nightly winds e'er whistle words of woe. + The one was Radislav--a warrior brave; + Whilst Janko was the other stately tree. + They were two brothers, fond of heart and true; + The weeping willow-tree that rose between + Had whilom been their sister Jelina. + Both brothers loved the maid so fair and good, + Fair as a snow-white lily fresh with dew, + And good, I ween, as a white turtle-dove. + Once Janko to his sister gave a gift; + It was a dagger with a blade of gold. + That day Marija, who was Janko's wife + (A wanton woman with a wicked heart), + Grew grey and green with envy and with grudge, + And to Zorizza, Radislavo's wife, + She said: "Pray tell me in what way must I + Get these two men to hate that Jelina, + Whom they love more, indeed, than you or me." + "I know not," said Zorizza, who was good-- + Aye, good indeed, and sweet as home-made bread; + "And if I knew, I should pray day and night + For God to keep me from so foul a deed." + Marija wended then her way alone, + And as her head was full of fiendish thoughts, + She saw upon the mead her husband's foal, + The fleetest-footed filly of the place. + Whilst with one hand she fondled the young foal, + The other plunged a dagger in her breast; + Then, taking God as witness, swore aloud + That Jelina had done that deed of blood. + With doleful voice the brother asked the girl + What made her mar the foal he loved so well. + Upon her soul the maiden took an oath + That she nowise had done that noxious deed. + A few days later, on a dreary night, + Marija went and killed the falcon grey-- + The swiftest bird, well worth its weight in gold. + Then creeping back to bed, with loud outcry + She woke the house; she said that, in a dream, + She saw her Janko's sister, as a witch, + Kill that grey falcon Janko loved so well. + Behold! at early morn the bird was dead. + "This cruel deed shall rest upon thy head," + Said Janko to the girl, who stood amazed. + E'en after this Marija found no peace, + But hated Jelina far more than death, + So evermore she pondered how she could + Bring dire destruction down upon the maid. + One night, with stealthy steps, she went and stole + The golden-bladed knife from Jelka's room; + And with the knife she stabbed her only babe. + The foul deed done, she put the knife beneath + The pillow white whereon lay Jelka's head. + At early twilight, when the husband woke, + He found his rosy babe stabbed through the breast, + All livid pale within a pool of blood. + Marija tore her hair and scratched her cheeks + With feigned despair; she vowed to kill the witch + Who wantonly had stabbed her precious babe. + "But who has done this cruel, craven crime? + Who killed my child?" cried Janko, mad with rage. + "Go seek thy sister's knife, with golden blade; + Forsooth, 'tis stained with blood." And Janko went, + And found that Jelka still was fast asleep, + But 'neath her pillow, peeping out, he saw-- + All stained with blood--the knife with golden blade. + He grasped his sleeping sister by her throat, + Accusing her of having killed his child. + And she--now startled in her morning sleep-- + Midst sighs and sobs disowned the dreadful deed; + Still, when she saw the knife all stained with gore, + She grew all grey with fear and looked aghast, + And guilty-like, before that gruesome sight. + "An I have done this horrid, heinous deed, + Then I deserve to die a dreadful death. + If thou canst think that I have killed thy child, + Then take and tie me to thy horses' tails, + So that they tread me down beneath their hoofs." + The maid was led within the lonely mead, + Her limbs were bound unto the stallions' tails; + They lashed the horses, that soon reared and ran + Apart, and thus they tore her limbs in twain. + But lo! where'er her blood fell down in drops, + Sweet sage grew forth, and marjoram and thyme, + And fragrant basil, sweetest of all herbs; + But on the spot where dropped her mangled corse, + A bruised and shapeless mass of bleeding flesh, + A stately church arose from out the earth, + Of dazzling marbles gemmed with precious stones-- + A wondrous chapel built by hallowed hands. + Marija, then, upon that day fell ill, + And nine long years she languished on her bed, + A death in life, still far more dead than quick; + And as she lay there 'twixt her skin and bones + The coarse and rank weeds grew, and 'midst the weeds + There nestled scorpions, snakes, and loathsome worms, + Which crept and sucked the tears from out her eyes. + In those last throes of death she wailed aloud, + And bade for mercy's sake that they might take + And lay her in that church which had sprung out + Where Jelka's body dropped a mangled corpse. + In fact, her only hope was to atone + For all those dreadful deeds which she had done. + But when they reached the threshold of the church, + A low and hollow voice came from the shrine, + And all who heard the sound were sore amazed. + "Avaunt from here! Till God forgive thy crimes, + This sacred ground is sure no place for thee." + Appalled to death, unable yet to die, + She begged them as a boon that they would tie + Her to the horses' tails, for dying thus she hoped + That God might then have mercy on her soul. + They bound her wasted limbs to stallions' tails; + Her bones were broke, her limbs were wrenched in twain, + And where the sods sucked up her blood impure, + The earth did yawn, and out of that wide gulf + Dark waters slowly rose and spread around; + Still, lifeless waters, like a lake of hell. + Within the mere the murdered foal was seen, + Just as we see a vision in a dream. + The falcon grey then flew with fluttering wing, + And panting, fell within that inky pool. + Then from the eddy rose a tiny cot. + Within that cot a rosy infant slept, + And smiled as if it saw its mother's breast. + But lo! its mother's claw-like hand arose + Out of the stagnant waters of the lake, + And plunged a dagger in the infant's breast. + + +The old woman, having finished her song, waited for a while till the +young man looked up. + +Presently, Uros, with a deep sigh, lifted his eyes towards her. + +"Always the same man, with that fiendish face of his," quoth he, +shaking his head. + +"But tell me what you have seen now, that I might help you--if I +can." + +"That man, who has been haunting me all these days." + +"Explain yourself better; did you only see his face, now?" + +Uros first explained to the _baornitza_ what he had witnessed in the +sea the night when Milenko was arrested for murder. + +"Have you often seen such things in the sea before?" + +"From my earliest childhood, and almost every time I looked; very +often Milenko and I saw the very same things." + +"But are you sure you never saw the face before?" + +"Oh! quite sure." + +"Now, tell me minutely what you have seen in the glass." + +"First the mirror grew hazy, just as if clouds were flitting over it; +then, little by little, it got to be more transparent, and of a +silvery, glassy grey. After that it grew greenish, and I could +distinguish down within its depths a beautiful landscape. It was a +country road seen by night; the moon was rising behind the hills at a +distance, and presently the trees, the rocks, the road, were clearer. +All at once two men were seen walking on the way. I could not see +their faces, for I was behind them; still, I was sure who the shorter +man was. They walked on and disappeared, but then I saw one of them +come running back. I was not mistaken; it was the man with the single +eye. His was, indeed, the face of a fiend. + +"He must have been running for some time, for he was panting, nay, +gasping for breath. He stopped, looked over his shoulder, then threw +the knife he was holding within a bush. It was a bush with silvery +leaves, and all covered with flowers. He then wiped his wet hands on +the leaves of the shrub, on the scanty grass, then rubbed them with +the sandy earth to remove all the traces of the blood. This done, he +again took to his heels and disappeared." + +"And that is all you saw?" + +"No! the mirror resumed again its real, dark colour, but, as I +continued looking within it, hoping to see something more, I saw it +turn again milky-white; then of a strong grass green, and, in the +midst of that glaring green paint, I had a glimpse of a Turkish flag; +then, as the red flag vanished, I beheld two words cut out and +painted in white in that garish green background. Those mysterious +words remained for some time; then they vanished, and I saw nothing +more." + +"Those words were in Turkish characters, were they not?" + +"No; some of them were like ours, but not all." + +"Then they must have been either Cyrillic or Greek; but, tell me, are +you quite sure you never saw those words before?" + +"Oh! quite, they were so strange." + +"You know, we happen sometimes to see things without noticing them, +even strange things. Then these objects, of which we seem to have no +knowledge, come back to us in our dreams, or when we gaze within a +mirror; so it may be that you have seen that face and those words +absently, with your eyes only, whilst your mind took no notice of +them." + +"I don't think so." + +"You may think otherwise in a few days. But let's see; you know where +the murder took place, don't you?" + +"Yes." + +"Well, the two men were, apparently, coming from Gravosa and going up +to Ragusa. Now, the spot where the shorter one stopped must have been +five, ten or fifteen minutes from the spot." + +"I daresay a quarter of an hour. Sailors are not accustomed to run; +besides, that man is not very young." + +"How do you know he is a sailor?" + +"By his dress; and a Greek sailor, besides. He wore a dark blue +flannel shirt, a white belt or sash, and those rough, yellow +home-spun trowsers which they alone wear." + +"Then probably the two words you saw were Greek. Now, the first thing +to be found is the knife; the second, and far more important fact, is +the meaning of those words. Are you sure not to forget them? Can you, +perhaps, write them down?" + +"I'll never forget them as long as I live; they are engraven in my +mind." + +"Then go and look for the knife. Come back to me to-morrow; perhaps I +may be of further help to you, that is, if you need more help." + +Uros thanked the old woman, and then asked her where she had learnt +all the wonderful things she knew. + +"From my own mother. Once a trade was in one family for ages; every +generation transmitted its secrets with its implements to the other. +It is true, people only knew one thing; but they knew it thoroughly. +Nowadays, young people are expected to have a smattering of +everything; but the sum of all their knowledge often amounts to +nothing." + +Uros, taking leave of the wise old woman, went down the road leading +from Porta Pilla to the sea. Soon he came to the spot where Milenko +had been found clasping the murdered man in his arms. Then he looked +at every tree, at every stone he passed on his way. After a while, he +got to the corner where he had seen--in the mirror--the two men +disappear. From there he crawled on, rather than walked, so that not +a pebble of the road escaped his notice. After about a quarter of an +hour, he came to a shrub of a dusty, greyish green--it was an _Agnus +castus_ in full bloom. He recognised it at once; it was the bush that +had looked so silvery by the light of the moon within the magic +mirror. His heart began to beat violently. As he looked round, he +fancied he would see the murderer start from behind some tree and +pounce upon him. He looked at the shrub carefully; some of its lower +branches and the tops of many twigs were broken. He pushed the leaves +aside, and searched within it. The knife was there. He did not see it +at first; for its haft was almost the same colour as the roots of the +tree, and the point of the knife was sticking in the earth. He took +it up and examined it. All the part of the blade that had not been +plunged in the earth was stained with blood. It was a common knife, +one of those that all sailors wear in their belts. He put it in the +breast pocket of his coat, and walked down with long strides. He was +but a few steps from the shore. + +Reason prompted him now to go to the police and give them the knife; +for it might lead to the discovery of the culprit. Still, this was +only a second thought--and Uros seldom yielded to practical +after-thoughts; and whenever he did so, he always regretted it. + +He had not a great idea of the police. They were only good to write +things down on paper, making what they called protocols, which +complicated everything. + +No; it was far better to act for himself, and only apply for help to +the police when he could have the murderer arrested. + +As he got down to the shore the sun was sinking below the horizon; +the silvery waters of the main were now being transmuted into +vaporous gold. As he was looking at the sea and sky, from a +meteorological, sailor-like point of view, and wondering whereabouts +the _Spera in Dio_ was just then, his eyes fell upon a little skiff, +which had arrived a few days after they had. It was a Turkish caique, +painted in bright prasine green. He had seen it for days when his own +ship was loading and unloading, but then it had had nothing +particular to attract his attention; he had seen hundreds of these +barques in the East. Now, however, he could not help being struck by +its vivid green colour. He looked up; the red flag with the half-moon +met his eyes. He had but time to see it, when it disappeared, for the +sun had set. + +How his heart began to beat! Surely the murderer was on board. He +strained his eyes to see the name of the ship, painted on either +side, but he could not distinguish it so far. Not a man was seen on +deck; the skiff seemed deserted. + +A boy was fishing in a boat near there; he called him and asked him +to lend him the boat for an instant. + +"What! do you want to fish, too?" asked the boy, pulling up. + +"No; I'd like to see the name of that caique." + +After two or three good strokes with the oars, Uros could see the +name plainly; it was _Panagia_, exactly the name he had read in the +mirror. + +"Is that the ship you are looking for?" + +"The very same one." + +"Do you want to go on board?" + +"Yes; I'd like to see the captain." + +As soon as he was by the side of the caique he called out "_Patria!_" +for this is the name by which Greek sailors are usually addressed. + +Some one got up at the summons. It was not the single-eyed man that +Uros was expecting to see, but a handsome, dark-eyed, shock-headed +young fellow. + +"Is the captain on board?" + +The youth tossed up his head negatively and said some words, but the +only one that Uros understood was _Caffene_. + +As soon as Uros jumped on shore he went off to the coffee-house by +the pier, the only one at Gravosa. There were only a few seamen +smoking and sipping black coffee, but the person he wanted was not +amongst them. + +"Do you wish to be taken on board his craft?" asked a kind of +ship-broker, hearing that Uros was asking about the Greek captain. + +A few hours before he would simply have answered negatively. Now, as +he wanted to hear more of the ship and its crew, he asked: + +"Is it the Greek captain whose caique is lying just outside?" + +"Yes; the one painted in green." + +"Where is he?" + +"Just gone up to town. Are you going to Ragusa?" + +"Yes." + +"Well, as I'm going up too, I'll come with you." + +An hour afterwards Uros was duly introduced to the man he had been +looking for. + +The captain's first question was why Uros had remained behind, and as +the young man was anxious to lead the conversation about the murder, +he gave all the details about Milenko's arrest, and the reason why he +himself had not started with his ship. + +"What!" asked Uros, "you haven't heard of the murder?" + +"No," replied Captain Panajotti; "you see, I only speak Greek and a +little of the _lingua Franca_, so it is difficult to understand the +people here." + +"But how is it you happen to be wanting hands? You Greeks only have +sailors of your own country." + +"I've been very unfortunate this trip. One of my men has a whitlow in +the palm of his hand; another, a Slav, came with me this trip, but +only on condition of being allowed to go to his country while the +ship was loading and unloading----" + +"Well?" asked Uros, eagerly. + +"He went off and never came back." + +"Are you sure he was a Slav, and not a Turk?" + +"We, on board, spoke to him in Turkish, because he knew the language +like a Turk, but he was a Christian for all that; his country is +somewhere in the interior, not far from here. Now another of my men +has fallen ill----" + +"The man with the one eye?" + +"What! you know Vassili?" asked the captain, with a smile. "Yes, he's +ill." + +"What's the matter with him?" + +"I really don't know; he's lying down, skulking in a hole; the devil +take him." + +"Since when?" + +"Ten days, I think." + +"But is he really ill?" + +"He says he is; but why do you ask--do you know him?" + +"I'll be straightforward with you," said Uros, looking the captain +full in the eyes. "I think the murdered man is the Slav who left your +ship ten days ago." + +"You don't say so!" exclaimed the captain, astonished and grieved. + +"I believe so." + +"The one for whose murder your friend was arrested?" + +"Exactly." + +"Strange--very strange," said the captain, who had taken off his +shoe and was rubbing his stockinged foot, "and the murderer?" + +"The man who has been ill ever since." + +"Vassili?" + +"You've said it." + +"But have you any proofs?" + +"I have." + +"Then why did you not get him arrested?" + +"I'll do so to-morrow." + +"And if you can prove your friend's innocence----" + +"We'll sail with you to Zara, my friend and I, if you'll have us, and +find you two other able-bodied seamen to take our place." + +"But, remember, I'll not help you in any way to have a man on board +my ship arrested." + +"No, I don't ask you to do so." + +"I believe he's a fiend; still, he's a fellow-countryman of mine." + +The two men thereupon shook hands and separated. + +Uros went to the police, and, after a great ado, he managed to find +one of the directors. + +"What do you want?" said the officer, cross at being disturbed out of +office hours. + +"I've found the murderer at last," replied Uros. + +"And what murderer, pray? Do you think there's only one murderer in +the world?" + +Uros explained himself. + +"And who is he?" + +"A certain Vassili, a Greek, on board a caique now lying at Gravosa." + +"And how have you found out that he is the murderer, when we know +nothing about it?" + +"By intuition." + +"Well, but you don't expect us to go about arresting people on +intuition, do you?" asked the officer, huffishly. + +Uros proceeded to relate all he knew; then he produced the knife +which he had found. + +"Well, there is some ground to your intuition; and if the murdered +man happens to be the Slav sailor who disappeared from on board the +ship you speak of, well, then, there is some probability that this +one-eyed man is the murderer." + +"Anyhow, could you give orders for the ship to be watched to-night?" + +"Yes, I can do that." + +"At once?" + +"You are rather exacting, young man." + +"Think of my friend, who has been in prison ten days----" + +"I'll give orders at once. There, are you satisfied now?" + +"Thank you." + +Uros, frightened lest the murderer might escape, hastened down to +Gravosa to keep watch on the caique. On his way thither he stopped at +a baker's shop and bought some bread, as he had been fasting for many +hours. Having got down to the shore, he eat his bread, had a glass of +water and a cup of black coffee at the coffee-house, lit a cigarette, +and then went to stretch himself down on a boat drawn up on the sand, +from where he could see anyone who came out of the Greek ship. + +Although there was no moon, still the air was so clear, and the stars +shone so brightly, that the sky was of a deep transparent blue, and +the night was anything but black. A number of little noises were +heard, especially the many insects that awake and begin to chirp when +all the birds are hushed. One of them near him was breathing in a +see-saw, drilling tone, whilst another kept syncopating this song +with a sharp and shrill _tsit, tsit_. In some farmyard, far off, the +growl of an old dog was occasionally heard in the distance, like a +bass-viol; but the pleasantest of all these noises was the plap-plap +of the wavelets lapping the soft sand. + +Presently, a custom-house guard came and sat down near Uros, and they +began talking together; and then time passed a little quicker. + +It must have been about half-past one when Uros saw a man quietly +lower himself down from the caique into the sea, and make for the +shore. He must have swum with one hand, for his other was holding a +bundle of clothes on his head. Uros pointed out the swimming figure +to the guard, who at once sprang up and ran to the edge of the shore. +The man, startled, veered and swam farther off. The watchman +whistled, and another guard appeared at fifty paces from there. The +man jerked himself round, evidently intending to go back to his ship; +but Uros, who was on the alert, had already pushed into the sea the +boat on which he had been stretched, and began paddling with a board +which was lying within it. + +The man, evidently thinking that Uros was a custom-house officer, +seeing now that he could not get back on board, put on a bold face +and swam once more towards the shore, whither Uros followed him. Three +custom-house guards had come up together, and were waiting for him to +step out of the water. Uros landed almost at once, and pushing the +boat on the sand, turned round and found himself face to face with +the dripping, naked figure. It was the fiendish, pitted, single-eyed +man he had seen in his visions. He was by no means startled at seeing +him; for he would have been astonished, indeed, if it had been +someone else. + +Uros, grasping him by one of his arms and holding him fast for fear +he might escape, exclaimed: "That's the man!--that's the murderer!" + +"Leave him," said the watchman; "if he tries to escape he's dead." + +"Oh! but I don't want him dead; do what you like with him, but don't +kill him; tie him up, cut off his legs and his arms, but spare his +life until he has confessed." + +The guards gave another shrill whistle, and presently the policemen +came running up. + +The naked man, who did not know a word of Slav, and only very little +Italian, was taking his oath in Greek that he was no smuggler. He at +once opened his bundle, wrapped up in an oil-cloth jacket, and showed +the guards that there was nothing in it but a few clothes. The Greek +sailor was ordered to dress himself; then the policemen handcuffed +him and led him off to the station, where Uros followed him. + +On the morrow the Greek captain was sent for, and he stated that, +having accused Vassili--who, for ten days, had been shamming +illness--of having murdered the Slav, this sailor had threatened him +to go to the Greek consulate on the morrow. The guilty man, however, +had, on second thoughts, deemed it more advisable to seek his safety +in flight, little thinking to what danger he was exposing himself. +The knife was produced and identified as having belonged to the +prisoner; then, being confronted with Milenko, who at once recognised +him as the murderer, he--overwhelmed by so many damning proofs +--confessed his guilt and pleaded for mercy, saying that he had only +killed his antagonist in self-defence. + +Milenko's innocence being thus proclaimed, he was at once set free, +whilst Uros was heartily congratulated on his intuition, and the +officer who had snubbed him the evening before, strongly advised him +to leave the sea and become a detective, for if he had the same skill +in finding the traces of criminals as he had displayed in this case, +he would soon became a most valuable officer, whilst Milenko was told +that he ought to think himself fortunate in having such a friend. + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +MARGARET OF LOPUD + + +Though the _pobratim_ would have sailed with any ship rather than +with the ill-fated green caique, still Uros had pledged his word to +the Greek captain to go with him as far as Zara or Trieste, and, +moreover, there was no other vessel sailing just then for either of +these ports, and they were both anxious to catch up with the _Spera +in Dio_ without further delay. The Greek captain, likewise--out of a +kind of superstitious dread--would have preferred any other sailors +to these two young men; still, as Dalmatians only sail with their own +fellow-countrymen and never on Greek crafts, it was no easy matter to +find two able-bodied men to go only for a short trip, for those were +times when sailors were not as plentiful, nor ships so scarce, as +they are now. + +On the day after the one on which Milenko was set free, the +_pobratim_ set sail with the little caique, and they, as well as the +captain, were thoroughly glad to shake the dust off their shoes on +leaving Gravosa; Milenko especially hoped never to set his foot in +Ragusa again. + +The fresh breeze swelled out the broad white sails of the graceful +little ship, which flew as fleetly as a halcyon, steered, as it was, +with utmost care, in and out the narrow channels and through that +archipelago of volcanic rocks which surround the Elaphite Islands, so +dangerous to seamen. It soon left far behind the graceful mimosas, +the dark cypress-trees and the feathery palms of the Ragusean coast. + +After all the anxiety of the last days it was pleasant to be again on +those blue waters, so limpid that the red fretted weeds could be seen +growing on the grey rocks several fathoms below. It was a delight to +breathe the balmy air, wafted across that little scented garden of La +Croma. The world looked once more so beautiful, and life was again a +pleasure. The sufferings the _pobratim_ had undergone only served to +render them fonder of each other, so that if they had been twins--not +only brothers--they could not have loved each other more than they +did. + +The sun went down, and soon afterwards the golden bow of the new moon +was seen floating in the hyacinthine sky. At the sight of that +slender aureate crescent--which always awakens in the mind of man a +vision of a chaste and graceful maiden--all the crew crossed +themselves and were happy to think that the past was dead and gone, +for the new moon brings new fortune to mortals. + +A frugal supper of salted cheese, fruit and olives gathered all the +men together, and then those who were not keeping watch were about to +retire, when a small fishing-boat with a lighted torch at its prow +was seen not very far off. As it came nearer to them the light went +out, and the dark boat, with two gaunt figures at the oars, was seen +for an instant wrapped in a funereal darkness, and then all vanished. +The _pobratim_ crossed themselves, shuddering, and Milenko whispered +something to Uros in Slav, who nodded without speaking. + +"What is it?" asked the captain, astonished. + +"It is the phantom fishing-boat," replied Uros, almost below his +breath, apparently unwilling to utter these words, and Milenko added: + +"It is seen on the first days of the new moon, as soon as darkness +comes over the waters." + +For a few moments everybody was silent. All looked towards the spot +where the boat had disappeared, and then the captain asked Milenko +who those two men were, and why they were condemned to ply their +oars, and thereupon Milenko began to relate the story of + + +MARGARET OF LOPUD. + +Some centuries ago, during the great days of the Republic, there +lived a young patrician whose name was Theodor. He belonged to one of +the wealthiest and oldest families of Ragusa, his father having been +rector of the Commonwealth. Theodor was of a most serious +disposition, possessing uncommon talents, and, therefore, taking no +delight in the frivolities of his age. His learning was such that he +was expected to become one of the glories of his native town. + +Theodor, to flee from the bustle and mirth of the capital and to give +himself entirely up to his studies, had taken up his abode in the +Benedictine convent on the little island of St. Andrea. + +Once he went to visit the island of Lopud--the middle one of the +Elaphite group--and there passed the day; but in the evening, wishing +to return to the brotherhood, he could not find his boat on the +shore. Wandering on the beach, he happened to meet a young girl +carrying home some baskets of fish. Theodor, stopping her, asked her, +shyly, if she knew of anyone who would take him in his boat across to +the island of St. Andrea. No, the young girl knew nobody, for the +fishermen who had come back home were all very tired with their hard +day's work; they were now smoking their pipes. Seeing Theodor's +disappointed look, the young girl proffered her services, which the +bashful patrician reluctantly accepted. + +The sail was unfurled and managed with a strong and skilful hand; the +boat went scudding over the waves like an albatross; the breeze was +steady, and the sea quiet. The girl steered through the reefs like a +pilot. + +Those two human beings in the fishing-smack formed a strong contrast +to one another. He, the aristocratic scion of a highly cultured race, +pale with long study and nightly vigils, looked like a tenderly +reared hot-house plant. She, belonging to a sturdy race of fishermen, +tanned by the rays of the scorching sun and the exhilarating surf, +was the very picture of a wild flower in full bloom. + +Theodor, having got over the diffidence with which women usually +inspired him, began to talk to the young girl; he questioned her +about her house, her family, her way of living. She told him simply, +artlessly, that she was an orphan; the hungry waves--that yearly +devour so many fishermen's lives--had swallowed up her father; not +long after this misfortune her mother died. Since that time she had +lived with her three brothers, who, she said, took great care of her. +She kept house for them, she cooked, she baked bread, she also helped +them to repair their nets, which were always tearing. Sometimes she +cleaned the boat, and she always carried the fish to market. Besides, +she tilled the little field, and in the evening she spun the thread +to make her brothers' shirts. But they were very kind to her, no +brothers could be more so. + +He could not help comparing this poor girl--the drudge of the +family--with the grand ladies of his own caste, whose task in life +was to dress up, to be rapidly witty in a saloon, to slander all +their acquaintances, simply to kill the time, for whom life had no +other aim than pleasure, and against whose love for sumptuary display +the Republic had to devise laws and enforce old edicts. + +For the young philosopher this unsophisticated girl soon became an +object, first, of speculative, then of tender interest; whilst +Margaret--this was the fishermaiden's name--felt for Theodor, so +delicate and lovable, that motherly sympathy which a real womanly +nature feels for every human being sickly and suffering. + +They met again--haunted as he was by the flashing eyes of the young +girl, it was impossible for him not to try and see her a second time, +and from her own fair lips he heard that the passion which had been +kindled in his heart had also roused her love. Then, instead of +endeavouring to suppress their feelings, they yielded to the charms +of this saintly affection, to the rapture of loving and being loved. +In a few days his feelings had made so much progress that he promised +to marry her, forgetting, however, that the strict laws of the +aristocratic Republic forbade all marriages between patricians and +plebeians. His noble character and his bold spirit prompted him to +brave that proud society in which he lived, for those refined ladies +and gentlemen, who would have shrugged their shoulders had he seduced +the young girl and made her his mistress, would have been terribly +scandalised had he taken her for his lawful wife. + +His studies went on in a desultory way, his books were almost +forsaken; love engrossed all his mind. + +In the midst of his thoughtless happiness, the young lover was +suddenly summoned back home, for whilst Theodor was supposed to be +poring over his old volumes, the father, without consulting him, not +anticipating any opposition, promised his son in marriage to the +daughter of one of his friends, a young lady of great wealth and +beauty. This union had, it is true, been concerted when the children +were mere babes, and it had from that time been a bond between the +two families. The whole town, nay, the Commonwealth itself, rejoiced +at this auspicious event. The young lady, being now of a marriageable +age, and having duly concentrated all her affections upon the man she +had always been taught to regard as her future husband, looked +forward with joy to the day that would remove her from the thraldom +in which young girls were kept. Henceforth she would take her due +share in all festivities, and not only be cooped up in a balcony or a +gallery to witness those enjoyments of which she could not take part. + +Theodor was, therefore, summoned back home to assist at a great +festivity given in honour of his betrothal. This order came upon him +as a thunderbolt; still, as soon as he recovered from the shock, he +hastened back to break off the engagement contracted for him. He +tried to remonstrate, first with his father, and then with his +mother; but his eloquence was put to scorn. He pleaded in vain that +he had no inclination for matrimony, that, moreover, he only felt for +this young lady a mere brotherly affection, that could never ripen +into love; still, both his parents were deaf to all his arguments. +Now that the wedding day was settled, that the father had pledged his +word to his friend, it was too late to retreat. A refusal would be +insulting; it would provoke a rupture between the two families--a +feud in the town. No option was left but to obey. + +Theodor thereupon retired to his own room, where he remained in +strict confinement, refusing to see anyone. The evening of that +eventful day the guests were assembled, the bride and her family had +arrived; the bridegroom, nevertheless, was missing. This was, +indeed, a strange breach of good manners, and numerous comments were +whispered from ear to ear. The father sent, at last, a peremptory +order to his undutiful son to come down at once. + +The young man at last made his appearance dressed in a suit of deep +mourning, whilst his hair--which a little while before had fallen in +long ringlets over his shoulders--was clipped short. In this strange +dress he came to inform his father--before the whole assembly--that +he had decided to forego the pleasures, the pomp and vanity of this +world, and to take up his abode in a convent, where he intended to +pass his days in study and meditation. + +The scene of confusion which followed this unexpected declaration can +easily be imagined. The guests thought it advisable to retire; still, +the first person to leave the house was Theodor himself, bearing with +him his father's curse. The discarded bride was borne away by her +parents, and her delicate health never recovered from that unexpected +disappointment. + +That very night the young man went back to the Benedictine convent, +and, although the prior received him kindly, he still advised him to +yield to his father's wishes; but Theodor was firm in his resolution +of passing his life in holy seclusion. + +After a few days, the fire which love had kindled within his veins +was so strong that he could not resist the temptation of going to see +Margaret to inform her of all that had happened. Driven as he was +from house and home, unable to go against the unjust laws of his +country, he had made up his mind to spend his life in holy celibacy, +in the convent where he had taken shelter. The sight of the young +girl, however, made him forget all his wise resolutions; he only swore +to her that he would brave the laws of his country, the wrath of his +parents, and that he would marry her in spite of his family and of +the whole world. + +He thus continued to see the young girl, stealthily at first, then +oftener and without so many precautions, till at last Margaret's +brothers were informed of his visits. They--jealous of the honour of +their family, as all Slavs are--threatened their sister to kill her +lover if ever they found him with her. Then--almost at the same +time--the prior of the Benedictines, happening to hear of Theodor's +love for the fair fisher-girl of Lopud, expressed his intention of +expelling him, should he not discontinue his visits to the +neighbouring island. + +Every new difficulty only seemed to give greater courage to the +lovers. They would have fled from their native country had it not +been for the fear of being soon overtaken, brought back and punished; +they, therefore, decided to wait for some time, until the wrath of +their persecutors had abated, and the storm that always threatened +them had blown over. + +As Theodor could not go to see the young girl, Margaret now came to +visit her lover. Not to excite any suspicion, they only met in the +middle of the night; and, as they always changed their +trysting-place, a lighted torch was the signal where the young girl +was to steer her boat. Sometimes--as not a skiff was to be got--the +young girl swam across the channel, for nothing could daunt her +heroic heart. + +These ill-fated lovers were happy in spite of their adverse fortune; +the love they bore one another made amends for all their woes. They +only lived in expectation of that hour they were to pass together +every night. Then, clasped in each other's arms, the world and its +inhabitants did not exist for them. Those were moments of such +ineffable rapture, that it seemed impossible for them ever to drain +the whole chalice of happiness. In those moments Time and Eternity +were confounded, and nothing was worth living for except the bliss of +loving and being loved. The dangers which surrounded them, their +loneliness upon those rocky shores, the stillness of the night, and +the swiftness of time, only rendered the pleasure they felt more +intense, for joy dearly bought is always more deeply felt. + +Their happiness, however, was not to last long. Margaret's brothers, +having watched her, soon found out that when the young nobleman had +ceased coming to Lopud, it was she who visited her lover by night, +and, like honourable men, they resolved to be avenged upon her. They +bided their time, and upon a dark and stormy night the fishermen, +knowing that their sister would not be intimidated by the heavy sea, +went off with the boat and left her to the mercy of the waves. +Theodor, not to entice her to expose herself rashly to the fury of +the sea, had not lighted his torch; still, unable to remain shut up +within his cell, he roamed about the desolate shore, listening to the +roaring billows. All at once he saw a light--not far from the rocks. +No fisherman could be out in the storm at that hour. His heart sank +within him for fear Margaret should see the light and take it for his +signal. In a fever of anxiety he walked about the shore and watched +the fluttering light--now almost extinguished, and then burning +brightly. + +The young girl seeing the light, and unable to resist the promptings +of her heart, made the sign of the Cross, recommended herself to the +mercy of the Almighty, and bravely plunged into the waters. She +struggled against the fury of the wind, and buffeted against the +waves, swimming towards that beacon-light of love. That night, +however, all her efforts seemed useless; she never could reach the +shore; that _ignis-fatuus_ light always receded from her. Still, she +took courage, hoping soon to reach that blessed goal; in fact, she +was now getting quite near it. + +A flash of lightning, which illumined the dark expanse of the waters, +showed her that the torch, towards which she had been swimming, was +tied to the prow of her brothers' boat. She also perceived that the +Island of St. Andrea, towards which she thought she had been +swimming, was far behind her. A moment afterwards the torch was +thrown into the sea, and the boat rowed off. She at once turned +towards the island, and there, in the midst of the darkness, she +struggled with the huge breakers that dashed themselves in foam +against the reefs; but soon, overpowered with weariness, she gave up +every hope of rejoining her lover, and sank down in the briny deep. + +The sea that separated the lovers was, however, less cruel than man, +for upon the morrow the waves themselves laid the lifeless body of +the young girl upon the soft sand of the beach. + +The young patrician, who had passed a night of most terrible anxiety, +wandering on the strand, found the corpse of the girl he so dearly +loved. He caused it to be committed to the earth, after which he +re-entered the walls of the convent, took the Benedictine dress, and +spent the rest of his life praying for her soul and pining in grief. + + +Milenko did not exactly relate this story in these words, for to be +intelligible he had to make use of a mixture of Italian, Slav and +even Greek, and even then Captain Panajotti was often puzzled to +understand what he meant; therefore, he had to express himself in a +kind of dumb show, or in those onomatopoetic sounds rather difficult +to be transcribed. + +As soon as he had finished, the captain said: + +"We, too, have a story like that, and, on the whole, ours is a much +prettier one; for it was the man who swam across the Straits of the +Dardanelles to meet the girl he loved, and, on a stormy night, he was +drowned." + +"Only ours is a true story; you yourself have seen, just now, the +hard-hearted brothers rowing in the dark." + +"Ours is also true." + +"And when did it happen?" + +"More than a thousand years ago, when we Greeks were the masters of +all the world." + +The _Spera in Dio_, having met with contrary winds and a storm in the +rough sea of the Quarnero, had been obliged to cruise about and shift +her sails every now and then, thus losing a great deal of time, and +she only reached Trieste after a week's delay. The caique instead had +a steady, strong wind, and less than twenty-four hours after they +left Ragusa they cast their anchor in front of the white walls of +Zara. + +To the _pobratim_'s regret the boat was only to remain there two or +three days at most, just time enough to take some bales of hides, and +then set sail for Trieste; so, although they were so near Nona, it +was impossible for them to go and pay a visit to Ivanka. The two +young sailors had, however, no need of going to Nona to see their +friends, for no sooner had the ship dropped her anchor than Giulianic +himself came on board, for he was the Sciot merchant about whom +Captain Panajotti had often spoken to them, and who was to give them +the extra cargo. + +"What! you here?" said Giulianic, opening his eyes with astonishment. +"Well, this is an unexpected pleasure; but I thought you were in +Trieste." Then, turning to Milenko, he added: "I had a letter from +your father only a few days ago informing me that your ship would be +there now. You have not been shipwrecked, I hope?" + +"No, no," replied Uros, at once; "we were detained at Ragusa; but we +are on our way to Trieste, aren't we, captain?" + +"If God grants us a fair wind, we are." + +Milenko thereupon opened his mouth to speak, but his friend +forestalled him. + +"So you had a letter from his father? Well, what news from home? Are +they all in good health? And how are the crops getting on?" Thereupon +he stepped on his friend's foot to make him keep quiet. + +"Yes, all are well. Amongst other things, he says that your father +has gone to Montenegro." + +"My father?" asked Uros, with a sly wink at Milenko. + +"Yes; on account of a murder that had been committed at Budua." Then, +turning to the captain: "By-the-bye, you knew Radonic, didn't you?" + +"Yes, I did." + +"Well, it appears he's gone and murdered the only friend he had." + +"That's not astonishing. The only thing that surprises me is that he +ever had a friend to murder. He was one of the most unsociable men I +ever met." + +Afterwards they spoke of the accident that had kept the two young men +at Ragusa, at which Giulianic seemed greatly concerned. + +"Anyhow," said he, "it's lucky that my wife and Ivanka have come with +me from Nona. They'll be so glad to see you again; for you must know, +Captain Panajotti, that my bones, and those of my wife and daughter, +would now be lying at the bottom of the sea, had it not been for the +courage of these two young men." + +"Oh! you must thank him," said Uros, pointing to Milenko. "I only +helped so as not to leave him to risk his life alone." + +"They never told me anything about it; but, of course, they did not +know that I was acquainted with you." Then, laughing, the captain +added: "Fancy, I have been warning them not to lose their hearts on +seeing your beautiful daughter." + +"And didn't I tell you that my friend had already left his heart at +Nona?" + +Saying this, Uros pinched his friend's arm. Milenko blushed, and was +about to say something, but Giulianic began to speak about business; +then added: + +"And now I must leave you; but suppose you all three come and meet us +at the Cappello in about an hour's time, and have some dinner with +us? I'll not say a word either to my wife or Ivanka, and you may +fancy how surprised they'll be to see you." + +Captain Panajotti seemed undecided. + +"No, I'll not have any excuse; you captains are little tyrants the +moment the anchor is weighed, but the moment it's dropped you are all +smiles and affability. Come, I'll have a dish of _scordalia_ to whet +your appetite; now, you can't resist that; so ta-ta for the present." + +The moment Giulianic disappeared Milenko looked at his friend, whose +eyes were twinkling with merriment. + +"It's done," said Uros, smiling. + +"But what made you take the poor fellow in as you did?" + +"_I_ take him in? Well, I like that." + +"Well, but----" + +"If he deceived himself, am I to be held responsible for his +mistakes?" + +"Still----" + +"Besides, if there was any deception, I must say you did your best to +let it go on." + +"Of course, I did; but who made me do it?" + +"I did." + +"And now is it to continue?" + +"Of course." + +"But why?" + +"Milenko, you're a good fellow, but in some things you are a great +ninny. You ask me why? Well, because, for two days, you can make love +to the daughter under the father's very nose; in the meantime I'll +devote myself to the father and mother, and make myself pleasant to +them." + +"Yes, but what'll be the upshot of all this?" + +"'Sufficient to the day is the evil thereof,' the proverb says; why +will you make yourself wretched, thinking of the future, when you can +be so happy? If I only had the opportunity of spending two long days +with----" + +Uros did not finish his phrase; his merry face grew dark, and he +sighed deeply; then he added: "There is usually some way out of all +difficulties; see how you got out of prison." + +"Still, look in what a predicament you've placed me." + +"Well, if you feel qualmish, we can tell the old man that he's a +goose, for he really doesn't know who his son-in-law is; then I'll +make love to fair Ivanka, and you'll look on. Now are you satisfied?" + +"What are you wrangling about?" said Captain Panajotti, appearing out +of the hatchway in his best clothes, his baggy trowsers more +voluminous than those that Mrs. Bloomer tried to set in fashion a few +years afterwards. + +"Oh! nothing," said Uros, laughing; "only you must know that every +first quarter of the moon I suffer from lunacy. I'm not at all +dangerous, quite the contrary; especially if I'm not contradicted. So +you might try and bear with me for a day or two; by the time we sail +again I'll be all right; it's only a flow of exuberant animal spirits, +that must vent themselves. But, how fine you are, captain; I'm afraid +you are trying to out-do my friend, and if it wasn't that you are +married, I'd have thought that all your warnings for us not to fall +in love with the Sciot's daughter----" + +"I see that the lunacy is beginning, so I'll not contradict; but +hadn't you better go and dress?" + +"All right," quoth Uros, and in a twinkling the two young men +disappeared down the hatchway. + +Half-an-hour afterwards they were at the Albergo Cappello, the only +inn of the town, where they found Giulianic awaiting them. The two +women were very much astonished to see them. Ivanitza's eyes flashed +with unrestrained delight on perceiving her lover, but then she +looked down demurely--as every well-bred damsel should--and blushed +like a pomegranate flower. Only, when she heard her father address +him by his friend's name, she looked up astonished; but seeing Uros +slily wink at her, she again cast down her eyes, wondering what it +all meant. + +After a while the mother whispered to her husband that she had always +mistaken one of the young men for the other. + +"Did you?" said he, laughing. "Well, I am astonished, for you women +are so much keener in knowing people than we men are; for, to tell +you the truth, I've often been puzzled myself; they are both the same +age, they are like brothers, they are dressed alike, so it's easy to +mistake them." + +"Anyhow," added she, "I'm glad to have been mistaken, because, +although I like both of them, still I prefer our future son-in-law to +young Bellacic; he's more earnest and sedate than his friend." + +"Yes, I think you are right; the other one is such a chatterbox." + +"And, then, he displayed so much courage at the time of our +shipwreck; indeed, had it not been for his bravery, we should all +have been drowned." + +"Yes, I remember; he was the first one to come to our rescue. Still, +we must be just towards the other one, for he is a brave and a plucky +fellow to boot." + +"And so lively!" + +"That's it; rather too much so; anyhow, I'm glad that Ivanka has +fallen in love with the right man; because it would have been exactly +like the perverseness of the gentle sex for her to have liked the +other one better." + +"Oh, my daughter has been too well brought up to make any objection! +Just fancy a girl choosing for herself; it would be preposterous!" + +"Yes, of course it would; still, she might have moped and threatened +to have gone into a decline. Oh, I know the ways of your model +girls!" + +In the meanwhile, Milenko explained to the young girl how the mistake +had originated, and how her father had, from the first, believed him +to be Uros. + +Dinner was soon served in a private room of the hotel; and Uros, who, +to keep up the buoyancy of his spirits, and act the part he had +undertaken to play brilliantly, had swallowed several glasses of +_slivovitz_, and had induced Captain Panajotti to follow his example, +was now indulging freely with the strong Dalmatian wine. Still, he +only took enough to be talkative and merry; but, as he exaggerated +the effects of the wine, everybody at table believed him to be quite +tipsy. + +No sooner had the dish of macaroni been taken away than he began to +insist upon Captain Panajotti telling them a story. + +"Oh, to-morrow you'll be master on board again; but now, you know, +you must do what I like, just as if you were my wife!" + +"What! Your wife----" + +But Uros did not let Mrs. Giulianic finish her question, for he +insisted upon doing all the talking himself. + +"My wife," said he, sententiously, "my wife'll have to dance to the +tune I play; for I intend to wear the breeches and the skirts, too, +in my house; so I hope you've brought up your daughter to jump +through paper hoops, like a well-trained horse--no, I mean a girl!" + +"My daughter----" + +"Oh, I daresay that your daughter's like you, turning up her nose; +but I say, D----n it! I'll not have a wife whose nose turns up." + +Giulianic looked put out; his wife's face lengthened by several +inches, whilst Ivanka did her best to look scared. + +"Come, captain," continued Uros, "spout us one of your stories. Now +listen, for he'll make you split with laughter. Come, give us one of +your spicy ones; tell us your tale about the lack of wit, but without +omitting the----" + +"I'm afraid that the ladies----" + +"Oh, rot the ladies! Now, all this comes from this new-fangled notion +of having women at table; if they are to be squeamish and spoil all +the fun, let them stop up their ears. Come, I told you I'd not brook +contradiction to-day." + +"Well, by-and-by; let me have my dinner now." + +"What's the matter with him?" asked Mrs. Giulianic of the captain; +"is he drunk?" + +"Oh, worse! he's moon-struck; he's like that for a few days at every +new moon." + +Mrs. Giulianic made the sign of the Cross, and whispered something to +her husband. + +"Then, if you'll not tell us a story, our guest must sing us a song. +Come, father-in-law, sing us a song, a merry, rollicking one, for +when I'm on shore I like to laugh." + +"No, not here; we are not in our own house, you know." + +"Do you pay for the dinner, or don't you?" + +"I do, but there are gentlemen dining in the next room." + +"If they don't like your song, don't let them listen." + +Thereupon the waiter came in. + +"I say, you, fellow, isn't it true that we can sing in this stinking +hole of an old tub?" + +"Oh! if you like; only this isn't a tavern, and there are two judges +dining in the next room." + +"And you think I'm not going to sing for two paltry judges! I'll +howl, then." + +"No; let's have some riddles," said Giulianic, soothingly; "I'm very +fond of riddles, aren't you? Now, tell me, captain, who was it that +killed the fourth part of mankind?" + +"Why, that's as old as your wife," quoth Uros, at once; "why, Cain, +of course. But as you like riddles, I'll tell you one that suits you, +though, as the proverb says, a bald pate needs no comb." + +Giulianic winced, for his bald head was his sore point, but then he +added, with a forced smile: + +"Come, let's have your riddle." + +"Well, you ought to know what makes a man bald, if anyone does." + +"Sorrow," answered the bald man. + +"Rot, I say!" + +"What is it, then?" + +"The loss of hair, of course," and he poked Giulianic in the ribs. +"That was good, wasn't it, father-in-law?" + +"Well, I don't see much of a joke in it," answered the host, +snappishly. + +"No; I didn't expect you would; that's the joke, you see." Then, +turning to Ivanka, with a slight wink: "Now, here's one for you." + +"Let's hear it." + +"Why are there in this world more women than men?" + +"Because they are more necessary." + +"That's your conceit; but you're wrong." + +"What is it, then?" asked the young girl. + +"Because the evil in this world is always greater than the good." + +"So," said she, with a pretty smile, "then, women ought to be called +men's worse halves." + +"Of course, they ought--though there are exceptions to all rules." +Then, after drinking very slowly half a glass of wine: "Now, one for +you, _babica_. This is the very best of the lot; I didn't invent it +myself, though I, too, can say a smart thing now and then, _babica_. +Tell me, when is a wife seen at her best?" + +Ivanka's mother, who prided herself upon her youthful looks, winced +visibly on hearing herself twice called a granny; still, she added, +simpering: + +"I suppose, when she's a bride." + +"Oh! you suppose that, do you? Well, your supposition is all wrong." + +"Well, when is it?" + +"Ask your husband; surely, he's not bald for nothing." + +"I'm sure, I don't know; I think----" + +"You think it's when she turns up her nose, but that's not it, for +it's when she turns up her toes and is carried out of the house." + +Captain Panajotti laughed, and so did Ivanka; but her mother, seeing +her laugh, could hardly control her vexation, so she said something +which she intended to be very sarcastic. + +"Oh! you are vexed, _babica_, because I explained you the riddle." + +"Vexed! there's nothing to be vexed about. I'm only sorry that, at +your age, you have such a bad opinion of women." + +"_I_, a bad opinion, _takomi Boga!_ I haven't made the riddle; I've +only heard it from my father, and he says that riddles are the wisdom +of a nation. So, to show you that I have the best regard for you, +here's a bumper"--and thereupon he filled his glass to the brim and +stood up--"to your precious health, mother-in-law." + +Then, pretending to stumble, he poured the glass of wine over her +head and face. + +Giulianic uttered an oath, and struck the table with his fist; Ivanka +and Milenko thought he had gone too far. Still, the poor woman looked +such a pitiful object, with her turban all soaked and her face all +dripping with wine, that they all burst out laughing. + +Mrs. Giulianic, unable to control her vexation, and angry at finding +herself the laughing-stock of the whole company, forgot herself so +far as to call Uros a fool and a drunkard. He, however, went on, +good-humouredly: + +"I'm so sorry; but, you see, it was quite unintentional, _Bogami_, +quite unintentional. But never mind, don't be angry with me; I'll buy +you another dress." + +"Do you think my wife is vexed on account of her dress?" said +Giulianic, proudly. "Thank Heaven! she doesn't need your dresses +yet." + +"Oh, yes!" said Uros, mopping up the wine with his napkin, "I know +that you can afford to buy your wife dresses; but as I spoilt this +one, it is but right that I should pay for it. I can't offer to buy +you a yard of stuff, can I? And, besides, a dress is always welcome, +isn't it, mother-in-law?" + +"Well, never mind about the dress," quoth Giulianic. + +"Oh! if you don't mind it, your wife does; but there, don't be angry, +don't be wriggling with your nose. When I marry your daughter, my +pretty Ivanka----" + +"You marry my daughter!" gasped the father. + +"You, indeed!" quoth the mother. + +"Yes, _babica_; then I'll buy you the dearest dress I can get for +money in Trieste. What is it to be, velvet or satin? plain or with +bunches of flowers? What colour would you like? as red as your face +is now?" + +"When you marry Ivanka, you can buy me a bright green satin." + +"Well, here's my hand upon it; only you'll look like a big parrot in +that dress. Isn't it true, father-in-law?" + +"A joke is a joke," answered Giulianic; "but I wish you wouldn't be +'father-in-lawing' me, for----" + +"Well, I hope you are not going to break off the engagement because I +happened to christen mother-in-law with a glass of good wine, are +you?" + +"Your engagement?" + +"Of course." + +"I told you I don't mind a joke, still this is carrying----" + +"Don't mind him, poor fellow," said Captain Panajotti. "The poor +fellow is daft." + +"If anybody is engaged to my daughter," continued Giulianic, "it's +your friend there, Uros Bellacic!" + +"Oh! I like that," said Uros, laughing. "I'm afraid the wine's all +gone up to your bald pate, old man." Then turning to Captain +Panajotti, he added: "He doesn't know his own son-in-law any more," +and he laughed idiotically. + +Giulianic and his wife looked aghast. + +Thereupon, thumping the table, Uros exclaimed: + +"I tell you I'm going to marry your daughter, though, if the truth +must be known, I don't care a fig for her, pretty as she is. I've +got----" + +"And I swear by God that you'll never marry her!" cried Giulianic, +exasperated. + +"That's rich," quoth Uros. "On what do you swear, old bald-pate?" + +"I swear on my faith." + +"And on your soul, eh?" + +"On my soul, too." + +"With your hand on the Cross?" asked Uros, handing him a little +Cross. + +"I swear," answered Giulianic, beyond himself with rage. + +"Well, well, that'll do; don't get angry, take it coolly as I do. You +see, I'm not put out. As long as you settle the matter with my +father, Milos Bellacic, I'm quite satisfied." + +"Milos Bellacic your father?" + +"Of course." + +"Then you mean to say that you are----?" + +"Uros Bellacic. Although the wine may have gone a little to my head, +still, I suppose I know who I am." + +"Is it true?" said Giulianic, turning towards Milenko. + +"Yes!" replied the young man, nervously, "Didn't you know it?" + +"No." + +"Didn't I tell you?" whispered his wife. + +"Oh! you always tell me when it's too late," he retorted, huffishly. +"And now, what's to be done? Will you release me from my oath?" + +Ivanka looked up, alarmed. + +"Decidedly not; I'll never marry a girl who doesn't want me, whose +father has sworn on his soul not to have me, for whose mother I'm a +drunkard and a fool." + +The dinner ended in a gloomy silence; a dampness had come over all +the guests, and, except Ivanka and Milenko, all were too glad to get +rid of one another. + +On the morrow Uros called on Mrs. Giulianic, when her husband was not +at home. He apologised for his boorish behaviour, and explained +matters to her. + +"Your daughter is in love with Milenko, to whom you all owe your +lives; he, too, has lost his heart on her, whilst I--well, it's +useless speaking about myself." + +"I see it all now," quoth she, "and you are too good-hearted to wish +us all to be miserable on account of a stupid promise. Well, on the +whole, I think you were right." + +"Then you forgive me for what I did and what I said?" + +"Of course I do, now that I understand it all." + +Before the caique sailed off, Uros was fully forgiven, and Giulianic +even promised to write to his friend and explain matters to him. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +STARIGRAD + + +The caique reached Trieste in time to meet the _Spera in Dio_, which, +having discharged her goods, had taken a cargo of timber for Lissa. +At Trieste, the _pobratim_ bade good-bye to Captain Panajotti; and +he, having found there two of his countrymen, was able to set sail +for the Levant. From Lissa the _Spera in Dio_ returned to Trieste, +and there her cargo of sardines was disposed of to great advantage. + +The young men had been sailing now six months with the captain, and +he, seeing that they were not only good pilots, clever sailors, +reliable young men, but sharp in business to boot, agreed to let them +have the whole management of the ship, for he was obliged to go to +Fiume, and take charge of another brig of his, that had lost her +captain. Moreover, being well off, and having re-married, he was now +going to take his young wife on a cruise with him. + +"And who was the captain of your brig in Fiume?" + +"One of my late wife's brothers, and as he seems to have disapproved +of my second marriage, he has discarded my ship." + +"And is he married?" + +"Of course, he is; did you ever know any unmarried captain? Land rats +always seem to look upon marriage as a halter, whilst we sailors get +spliced as young as possible. Perhaps it's because we are so little +with our better halves that we are happy in married life." + +"And when you give up the sea will you settle down in Fiume?" + +"I suppose so, though Fiume is not my birth-place." + +"Isn't it? Where were you born, then?" + +"Where the dog-king was born!" + +"And where was the dog-king born? For, never having heard of him +before, I am now quite as wise as I was," said Uros. + +"Well, they say that Atilla, who was a very great king, was born at +Starigrad, the old castle, which, as you know, is not very far from +Nona. Starigrad is said to have been built on the ruins of a very old +city, which was once called Orsopola, but which now hardly deserves +the name of a town. The village where I was born goes by the name of +Torre-Vezza, but we in Slav know it as Kulina-pass-glav." + +"What a peculiar name, The Tower of the Dog's Head," added Milenko. + +"Yes, it is also called The Tower of the Dog-King +Kulina-pass-kraljev." + +"And why?" asked Uros. + +"Because it was the tower where Atilla was born, and as the king +happened to have a dog's ears, the place was called after him The +Tower of the Dog-King." + +"How very strange that a king should have a dog's ears." + +"Not so very strange either. Once, in olden times, a king actually +had ass's ears; but that was long before constitutional monarchy: I +doubt whether people would stand such things nowadays. Some +historians say that he had a dog's head, but that, I daresay, is an +exaggeration; and perhaps, after all, he had only big hairy ears, +something like those of a poodle. Anyhow, if the legend is to be +believed, it does not seem wonderful that Atilla was somewhat of a +mongrel and doggish in his behaviour." + +"Let's hear the legend," said Uros. + +Thereupon, the captain and his two mates, lying flat on their +stomachs, propped themselves up on their elbows, and began to puff at +their cigarettes. Then the captain narrated as follows: + + +About four hundred years after the birth of our Lord and Saviour +Jesus Christ, there lived in Hungary a King who was exceedingly +handsome. The Hungarians are, as you must know, a very fine race; but +this monarch was so remarkably good-looking, that no woman ever cast +her eyes upon him without falling in love with him at once. This King +had a daughter who was as beautiful a girl as he was handsome a man, +and all the kings and princes were anxious to marry her. She had a +great choice of suitors, for they flocked to Hungary from the four +quarters of the globe. She, however, discarded them all, for she +could not find the man of her choice amongst them. Some were too +fair, others a shade too dark; the one was too short, the other was +tall and lanky. In fact, one batch of kings went off and another +came, but with no better success; fair-bearded and blue-eyed +emperors were the same to her as negro potentates, she hardly looked +upon either. + +The King at first was vexed to find his daughter so hard to please, +then he grew angry at seeing her throw away so many good chances, and +at last he decided that she was to marry the very first man that +should come to ask for her hand, fair or dark, yellow or +copper-coloured. + +The suitor who happened to present himself was a powerful chief of +some nomadic tribe. He was not exactly a handsome man, for he was +shock-headed, short and squat, with sturdy, muscular limbs, big, +broad hands and square feet. As for his face, it was quite flat, with +a pug nose, thick lips and sharp teeth. As for his ears, they were +canine in their shape, large and hairy. + +Though he was not exactly a monster, still the girl refused him, +horrified. The man, gloating upon her, said, with a leer, that a time +might come when she would lick her chops to have him. Nay, he grinned +and showed his dog-like teeth as he uttered this very low expression, +rendering it ever so much the more obnoxious by emitting a low canine +laugh, something between a whine and a merry bark. The poor Princess +shuddered with horror and said she would as lief be wedded to one of +her father's curs. + +The father now got into a towering passion and asked the Princess why +she would not marry, and the damsel, melting into tears, and almost +fainting with grief and shame, confessed that she was in love with +him--her own father. + +Fancy the King's dismay! + +He had been bored the whole of his life by all the women, not only of +his Court, but of his whole kingdom, who were madly in love with him. +Wherever he went there was always a crowd of young girls and old +dames, married women and widows, gazing at him as if he had been the +moon; grey eyes and green eyes, black eyes and blue eyes, were always +staring, ogling or leering at him; and, amidst deep-drawn sighs, he +always heard the same words: "Ah! how handsome he is!" His fatal +beauty made more ravages amongst the fair sex even than the plague or +the small-pox; the cemeteries and lunatic asylums were peopled with +his victims. His dreams were haunted by the sighs and cries of these +love-sick females. At last he had decided to live in a remote castle, +in the midst of a forest, where he would see and be seen by as few +women as possible; but even here he could not find rest, his own +daughter had not escaped the infection. That was too much for the poor +King. He at once banished the Princess, not only from his sight--from +his castle--but even from his kingdom. He wished thereby to strike +the rest of womankind with terror. + +The poor girl, like Cain, wandered alone upon the surface of the +earth; bearing her father's curse, she was shunned by everyone who +met her; for the Hungarians have ever been loyal to their kings. + +She was, however, not quite alone; for as she left the royal palace +she was met on her way by an ugly-looking cur, with a shaggy head, a +short and squat body, sturdy muscular legs, big paws, a pug nose, +sharp white teeth, and huge flapping ears. He was not exactly a fine +dog, but he seemed good-natured enough; and as he followed her steps, +he looked at her piteously with his little eyes. + +She walked about for three days; then, sick at heart, weary and +faint, she sank down, ready to die. She was on a lonely highway, with +moors all covered with heather on either side; so that she could see +nothing but the limitless plain stretching far away in the distance +as far as the eye could reach. In that immense waste, with the bright +blue sky overhead, and the brown-reddish heath all around, where not +a tree, not a shrub, not a rock was to be seen, she walked on and on; +but she always seemed to be in the very centre of an unending circle. +Then a feeling of terror came over her; the utter loneliness in which +she found herself overpowered her. And now the mongrel cur, which had +remained behind, came running after her, the poor beast, which at +first she had hardly noticed, comforted her; he was now far more than +a companion or a protector, he was her only friend. + +She sank down by the wayside, to pat the faithful dog and to rest a +while; but when she tried to rise, her legs were so stiff that they +refused to carry her. However, the sun, that never tarries, went on +and left her far behind. She saw his fiery disc sink like a glowing +ball far behind the verge of the moor; then darkness, little by +little, spread itself over the earth. Night being more oppressive +than daylight, the tears began to trickle down her cheeks; then she +lay down on the grass, and began to sob bitterly and to bewail and +moan over her ill-timed fate. She was again comforted; for the ugly +cur came to sniff at her, to rub his nose against her cheeks, and +lick her hands, as if to soothe and assuage her sorrow. + +Tired as she was her heavy eyelids drooped, shut themselves, and soon +she sank into a deep sleep. + +That night she had a most wonderful vision. Soon she felt her body +beginning to get drowsy and the pain in her weary head to pass away; +then consciousness gradually vanished. Then it seemed that she saw +two genii of gigantic stature appear in front of her; the mightiest +of the two bent down, caught her up as if she had been a tiny baby +only a few months old, clasped her to his breast, then spread out his +huge bat-like wings and flew away with her up into the air. It was +pleasant to nestle in his brawny arms and feel the wind rush around +her. He carried her with the rapidity of the lightning across the +endless plains of Hungary, over the blue waters of the Danube, over +lakes and snow-capped chains of mountains, and wide gaping chasms +which looked like the mouths of hell. The genius at last alighted on +the summit of a very high peak, and from there he slid down, making +thus a deep glen that went to the sea-shore. The other genius took up +the dog in his arms, transported him likewise through the air, and +perched himself on the top of another neighbouring peak. The +mountain-tops on which they alighted were the Ruino and Sveti Berdo +of the Vellibic chain. Once on their feet again the two Afrites laid +down their burdens, and built--till early morning--a huge castle of +massive stone, not far from the sea. Their task done, they placed the +Princess in a beautiful bed, all inlaid with silver, ivory and +mother-of-pearl; they whispered in her ear that henceforth, and for +the remainder of her life, she would have to keep away from the sight +of men, for her beauty might have been as fatal as her father's had +been. Then they rose up in the air, vanished, or rather, melted away, +like the morning mist. + +You can fancy the Princess's surprise the next morning when--on +awaking--she found herself stretched on a soft couch, between fine +lawn sheets, in a lofty chamber, finer by far even than the one she +had had in her father's palace. She rubbed her eyes, thinking that +she was dreaming, and then lay for a few moments, half asleep and +half awake, hardly daring to move lest she might return, but too +soon, to the bitter misery of life. All at once, as she lay in this +pleasant sluggish state, she felt something moist and cold against +her cheek. She shuddered, awoke quite, turned round and found +herself in still closer contact with the cur's pug nose. + +The Princess drew back astonished, unable to understand whether she +was awake or asleep, and, as her eyes fell on the cur, she was +surprised to see a kind of broad and merry grin on the dog's face, +for the mongrel evidently seemed to be enjoying her surprise. + +The young girl continued to look round, bewildered, for, instead of +being on the dusty roadside, where she had dropped down out of sheer +weariness, she was lying on a comfortable bed, in a splendid room. +She stared at the costly tapestries which covered the walls, at the +beautiful inlaid furniture, at the damask curtains all wrought in +gold, at the crystal chandelier hanging down from the ceiling; and as +she gazed at all these, and many other things, the cur, with his big +hairy front paws on the edge of the couch, was standing on his hind +legs, looking at the beautiful young girl. + +The poor girl blushed to see the cur leering at her so doggedly. She +rose quickly, put on the beautiful dresses that were lying on a chair +ready for her, and went about the house. + +What she had taken for a dream, or a vision, was, in fact, nothing +but plain reality. She had, during the night, been carried from the +plains of Hungary down to the shores of the Adriatic, and shut up in +a fairy castle, alone with the faithful dog. From her windows she +could see the mountains on which the two Afrites had alighted, and on +the other side the sun-lit, translucent waters of the deep blue sea. + +The castle, which seemed to rise out of the steep inaccessible crags +on which it was perched, was built of huge blocks of stone. It had +thick machicolated towers at every corner, gates with drawbridges and +barbicans. The apartments within this stronghold, the remains of +which are still to be seen, were as sumptuous and as comfortable as +any king's daughter might wish. Her protectors had provided her with +all the necessities of daily life, for every day, at twelve, a dainty +dinner, cooked by invisible hands, was laid out in the lofty hall, +whilst in the morning a cup of exquisite chocolate was ready for her +on the table in her bedroom; besides, she found all that could induce +her to pass her time pleasantly, for she had statues, pictures, birds +and flowers. She could walk in the small garden in the midst of the +square court, or under the marble colonnade that surrounded it; she +could stitch, sew, embroider, play the lute, or paint. Still, she was +quite alone, and time lay heavy on her hands. She could see, from the +windows of the second floor, people at a distance stop and stare at +the wonderful castle that had risen out of a rock, like a mushroom, +in the space of a night; but nobody ever saw her. Alone with the cur +from morn to night, from year's end to year's end; he followed her, +step by step, whithersoever she went, and whatever she did he would +wag his tail approvingly. If she sat down, he would squat on his +haunches, on a stool opposite, and gloat on her with his little eyes +so persistently that she felt her head grow quite dizzy, and she +almost fancied that she had a human being sitting there in front of +her, watching lovingly her slightest movement; and then the strangest +fancies flitted through her brain. + +Several times she had tried, as a pastime, to teach the dog some +tricks; but she soon gave it up, for he always inspired her with a +kind of awe. He was such a knowing kind of a cur, that he invariably +seemed to read all her thoughts within her brain, and, winking at +her, did the very thing she wanted him to do, before she had even +tried to teach him the trick. Then, as he saw her open her eyes +wonderingly, he would look at her, grinning, as if he were making fun +of her; or else he sniffed at her in a patronising kind of way, as if +he would say: + +"Pooh! what a very silly kind of girl you are. Couldn't you, a human +being, think of something better than that?" + +It happened one day that, as they sat opposite each other, looking +into each other's eyes--he as quiet as a stone dog on a gate, she +with her tapering fingers interlocked, twirling her thumbs as a means +of passing her time--the Princess was thinking of her many rejected +suitors, whose hearts she had broken; even of the last one, the +short, squat man, with sturdy limbs, large hands and feet, a shaggy +head and huge ears. And she sighed, for though he was much more of a +Satyr than like her Hyperean father, still he was a man. + +Thereupon, she looked at the cur, with its sturdy limbs, its shaggy +head and huge ears; and she sighed again. The dog winked at her. + +"Cur," she said to herself, "you are ugly enough; still, if you were +a man I think I could fall in love with you." + +The cur stood on his hind legs, his head a little on one side; there +was a knowing, impudent look in his eyes. Then he uttered a kind of +doggish laugh, something between a whine and a bark; then, after +showing his teeth in a grinning kind of way, he licked his chops at +her sneeringly. + +The words of her last suitor were just then ringing in her ears. She +looked at the cur in amazement, for she almost fancied he had uttered +those selfsame words. + +The cur was evidently mocking her, as he rolled his shaggy head +about, and gloated at her just as her last suitor had done. +Thereupon, she blushed deeply, and covering her face with her hands, +she burst into tears. + +The poor dog thereupon came to lick the tears that oozed through her +fingers, so that she felt somewhat comforted by the affection which +this poor mongrel showed her. + +This, thought she, is the end of every haughty beauty who is hard to +please and who thinks no one is good enough for her. She rejects all +the best matches in early youth, she turns up her nose at every +eligible _parti_, until--when age creeps on and beauty fades--she is +happy to accept the first boor that pops the question. As for +herself, she had not even a boor whom she could love, not even the +churlish man with the huge ears. + +That evening, undressing before going to bed, the Princess stood, sad +and disconsolate, in front of her mirror. She was still of a radiant +beauty, quite as handsome as she had ever been; but alas! she knew +that her beauty would soon begin to fade in that lonely tower. + +What had she done to the gods to deserve the punishment she was +undergoing? Why had the genii shut her up in that tower to pine there +unheeded and unknown? Why had they not left her to wander about the +world, or even die upon those blasted heaths of her country? Death +was better than having to waste away in a living death, doomed to +eternal imprisonment. + +It was a splendid night in early May. The moon, on one side, silvered +the placid waters of the Adriatic, whilst it gleamed on the still +snow-capped tops of the Vellebic, on the other. The breeze that came +in through the open casement wafted in the smell of the sea, and of +the sage, the hyssop and lavender that grew all around. A nightingale +was trilling in an amorous strain, blackbirds whistled in plaintive +notes, just as in the daytime the wild doves had cooed their eternal +love-song to their mate. + +The poor girl leaned her plump and snowy arms on the white marble +window-sill and sighed. How lovely the world is, she thought, and +then she remained as if entranced by an ecstatic vision. Within the +amber moon that rolled on high and flooded all below with mellow +light, the Princess saw a lover with his lass. Their mouths were +closely pressed in one long kiss, as thirsty lips that cleave unto +the brim of some ambrosial aphrodisiac cup. Above, the stars were +shining forth with love, whilst, down below, the whole earth seemed +to pant; the night-bird's lay, the lisping waves' low voice, and the +insect's chirp all spoke of unknown bliss. The very air, all laden +with the strong scent of roses, lilies and sweet asphodel, was like +the breath of an enamoured youth who whispered in her ear sweet words +of love. A scathing flame was kindled in her breast, and in her veins +her blood was all aglow; her shattered body seemed to melt like wax, +such was the unknown yearning which she felt upon that lovely night +in early May. With reeling, aching head and tottering steps, the +forlorn maiden slowly crept to bed, and while the hot tears trickled +down her cheeks, oblivion steeped her senses in soft sleep. + +That night the wandering moon, that came peeping through the lofty +windows, saw a strange sight. Upon her round disc a broad, sallow +face could now be plainly seen, grinning good-humouredly at what she +beheld. + +That night the Princess had a dream, or rather a vision. No sooner +did she shut her eyes and her senses began to wander and lose +themselves, than she saw the shaggy cur come into the room, with his +usual waddling gait, wagging his tail according to his wont. He came +up to her bed, stood upon his hind legs, put his big paws upon the +white sheets, and began to look at her just in the very same way he +had done that morning when she awoke to find herself shut up within +the battlemented walls of that lonely tower by the sea. She was +almost amused to see him stare at her so gravely, for he looked like +a wise doctor standing by some patient's bed. Until now there was +nothing very strange in this vision, but now comes the most wonderful +and interesting part, which shows how truth and fancy, the +occurrences of the day before and long-forgotten facts, are often +blended together to make up the plot of our dreams. + +As the Princess was looking upon the dog's paws, she saw them change, +not all at once, but quietly undergo a slow process of +transformation. They, little by little, grew longer and shaped +themselves into fingers and broad hands. She looked up--in her sleep, +of course--and beheld the fore part of the legs gradually lengthen +themselves into two sturdy arms. The dog's shaggy head became +somewhat blurred, and in its stead a man's tawny mass of hair +appeared. In fact, after a few minutes, the last rejected suitor, +who, indeed, had always borne a strong likeness to the ugly cur that +had followed her in her exile, now appeared before her. + +He was not a handsome man; no, far from handsome; still, on the +whole, it was better to have as her companion a human being than a +dog. Still, strange to say, she now liked this man on account of his +strong resemblance to the faithful dumb cur, the only friend she had +now had for years. + +"You said that if I were a man you could love me," quoth he, in +something like a soft and gentle growl, sniffing at her as he spoke, +evidently unable to forbear from his long-acquired canine customs. +"Well, now, do you love me?" + +The young girl--in her dream--stretched out her hand and patted the +man's dishevelled hair as she had been wont to caress the cur's +shaggy head; such is the force of habit. + +"I told you that the time would come when you would lick your chops +to have me back; so you see my words, after all, have come true." + +It was a churlish remark, but the young girl had got so accustomed to +the cur's strange ways, that she did not resent it; she even allowed +the man to kiss her hands, just as the mongrel had been wont to lick +them, which shows how careful we ought to be in avoiding bad habits. + +It was then that the rolling, rollicking moon came peeping through +the window with a broad smile on her chubby round face, just as if +she was approving of the sight she saw. + +On the morrow, when the Princess awoke, she looked for the cur +everywhere, but, strange to say, he was nowhere to be found. She +ransacked the whole house, but he had disappeared; she peered through +the barbicans, glanced down from the battlements; she mounted to the +top of the highest tower, strained her eyes, and gazed on the +surrounding country, but the dog was nowhere to be seen. + +A sense of loneliness and languor came over her. It was so dreary to +be shut up in those large and lofty halls, that, at times, the very +sound of her steps made her shiver. Her very food became distasteful +to her. + +From that day--being quite alone--she longed to have, at least, a +little child which she might love, and which might help her to +beguile the long hours of solitude. Every day her maternal instincts +grew stronger within her, and every evening, as she stood leaning on +the marble window-sill, she prayed the kind genii, who had taken pity +on her when she had been wandering on the moor, and almost dying of +weariness, of hunger and of thirst, to be kind to her, and bring her +a tiny little baby to take the place of her lost cur, for life +without a child was quite without an aim. + +Months passed; the blossoms of the trees had fallen, the fruit had +ripened, the harvest had been gathered, the days had grown shorter, +the sea was now always lashed into fury, all the summer-birds had +flown far away, the others were all hushed; only the raucous cries of +the gulls were heard as they flew past the tower where she dwelt. The +days had grown shorter and shorter, the wind was cold, the weather +was bleak, when at last her wish was granted. + +It was on a dreary, stormy night in early February; the Princess was +lying on her bed, unable to sleep, when all at once the window was +dashed open, and a huge stork flew in. It was the very stork, they +say, that, years afterwards, was so fatal to the town of Aquileja, +not very far from there. At that moment the poor Princess was so +terrified that she quite lost her senses; but when she came back to +herself, she found a tiny baby--not an hour old--lying in bed by her +side. + +The wind was blowing in a most terrific way. The Quarnero, which is +always stormy, was nothing but one mass of white foam. The huge waves +dashed together, like fleecy rams butting against each other. The +billows ever rose higher, whilst the waters of the lowering clouds +overhead came pouring down upon the flood below. All the elements +seemed unchained against that lonely tower. The clouds came pouring +down in waterspouts upon it; the breakers dashed against it; the two +ravines, the big and the little Plas Kenizza--formed by the genii as +they had slid down the mountains--were now huge torrents, rolling +down with a roaring noise against the white walls of the tower, +making it look more like an enormous lighthouse on a rock than a +princely castle. The thunder never stopped rumbling; the forked +lightning darted incessantly down upon the highest pinnacles and the +whole stronghold, from its battlements down to its very base. Such a +terrific storm had never been known for ages; in fact, not since the +days when the mighty Julius had been murdered. + +By the lurid light of the incessant flashes, the Princess first saw +her infant boy; and she heard its first wail amongst the deafening +din of the falling thunder-bolts. With motherly fondness, she pressed +the baby to her breast; whilst her heart was beating as if it were +about to break. What a thrill of unutterable bliss she felt that +moment; but, alas! all her joy passed into sorrow when she perceived +that her beautiful baby--beautiful, at least, to a mother's eyes--had +two dear little dog's ears. + +Dogs' ears are by no means ugly--although they are occasionally +cropped. Why was it, then, that the Princess saw them with horror and +dismay? + +Ears, the young mother thought, are the very worst features man +possesses. They stand out prominently and look uncouth, or they +sprawl out along the sides of the head; they are either as colourless +as if they had just been boiled, or as red as boiled lobsters. +Anyhow, she was somewhat fastidious about the shape and tint of those +appendages, so that now the sight of those huge hairy lobes was +perfectly loathsome to her, and as she looked upon them she burst +into tears. The poor forlorn baby, feeling itself snubbed, was +wailing by her side. After a little while she took up her infant; the +disgust she felt was stronger than ever; moreover, she was thoroughly +disappointed. She had begged for a baby, not for a little puppy. In +her vexation--she was a very self-willed girl, as princesses often +are--she took up the babe, got out of the bed, and in two strides she +was by the window. She would cast the little monster into the dark +night from where it had come. She herself did not want it. + +As she reached the open window the two genii, her protectors, stood +before her. + +"Stop, unnatural mother!" cried the taller of the two. "What are you +about to do?" + +The Princess shrank back, frightened and trembling. There are a few +things at which we do not exactly like to be caught: infanticide is +one of them. + +"Know," said the Afrite, in a voice like a peal of thunder, "that the +child, though with dog's ears, is not only of royal lineage, but he +is, moreover, the son of a great genius. About four hundred years ago +another Virgin gave birth to a Child, who, later on, was put to death +upon a cross because the people did not want him as their king. Well, +now, the followers of that virgin's child are our bitterest enemies; +our only hope is in your son; he will grow up to become a mighty +warrior and avenge us. He will waste the towns on which the gold +cross glistens, he will make their kings his captives, and all their +priests his slaves. The blood of the Christians will run in torrents, +even as the rain comes down the ravines to-night; his shafts will be +like the thunderbolts that have fallen on your tower to-night. His +name--which will be heard all over the world like the rumbling in the +clouds--will be The Scourge of God, and he will chastise men for +their evil deeds. Wherever he passes the grass will wither under his +feet, and the waste will be his wake. Only, that all these things +might come to pass, thou must well bear in mind that his head be +never shorn nor his beard shaven; let the tawny locks of his hair +fall about his shoulders like a lion's mane, for all his strength +will lie therein. As soon as his arm is able to wield a weapon, the +trail of blood flowing from a heifer's wound will show him where the +sword of the great god of war lies rusting in the rushes; with that +brand in his hand all men will bow before him, or fall like grass +beneath the mower's scythe. Love alone will overcome him, and a young +girl's lust will lull him into eternal sleep. He will be versed in +magic lore, and be able to read the starry skies as a written scroll. +From his very infancy he will feel a wholesome hatred for the +Nazarenes, his foes as well as ours." + +Having uttered these words, the Afrite rose up like smoke and faded +away in the dark clouds. + +In the meanwhile the child grew up of a superhuman strength, short of +stature but square, and with very broad shoulders; and when he was +but seven years of age the gates of the castle, hitherto always shut, +opened themselves for him. From that time he passed his days in the +dells and hollows of the mountains, chasing the wild beasts that +abounded in those gorges and in the neighbouring forests, almost +inaccessible to man. His mother saw him but little, for he only came +back to the castle when heavily laden with his prey. + +He was but a youth when he organised a band of freebooters; and with +their help he sacked and plundered all the neighbouring towns and +villages, and the plains all around were strewn with the bones of the +dead. Being not only invincible, but just and generous to his men, he +soon found himself at the head of an army the like of which the world +had never seen. He destroyed the immense town of Aquileja, the +largest city of the Adriatic coast, and even burnt down the forest +which stretched from Ravenna to Trieste. Whithersoever he went the +houses fell, the temples and the theatres crumbled down, and he left +desolation behind him; so that, before he had even reached the age of +manhood, the words of the genius were fulfilled. + +At that time the old King of Hungary happened to die, leaving no +heirs to ascend his throne. Anarchy desolated the land. The nobles, +who were at variance as to whom they were to elect, having heard, in +some mysterious way, that their beautiful Princess was still alive, +and that the great conqueror who was at that time plundering Rome was +her son, sent an embassy to the Princess, asking her to return to her +country, and begging her, as a boon, to accept the crown for her +child. + +The Princess, whose name was Mor-Lak (the Daughter of Misfortune), +lived to a good old age. When she died she left her name to the sea +and to the channel, the waters of which bathe the town in which she +dwelt; therefore, the people who live thereabouts are, to this day, +called Morlacchi. If they have no more canine ears, their hair is +still as tawny as that of the dog-king, though all the other +Dalmatians are dark. Moreover, if you go to Starigrad you can see, as +I told you, the ruins of the Torre Vezza, the fairy tower where the +virgin's son was born; likewise the huge chasms of the Ruino and the +Sveti Berdo, the holy mountain where the Afrites slid down, in +remembrance of which the inhabitants still call them the Paklenizza +Malo and the Paklenizza Veliko, or, the Gorges of the Big and the +Little Devil. + + +A few days afterwards, the captain bade the young men good-bye, and +started for Fiume, whilst they, having their cargo ready, set sail +for Odessa. The weather was fine, the wind was fair; therefore, the +first voyage during which they were in sole command of the ship was a +most prosperous, though a rather rough one. For during four days they +had shipped several seas, so that they had the water up to their +waists, and, with all that, no water to drink; but these are the +incidents appertaining to a seafaring life, which sailors forget as +soon as they set foot on shore. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +THE "KARVARINA" + + +Radonic had never been much of a favourite amongst his fellow +countrymen, for he was of an unsociable, surly, overbearing +disposition; still, from the day he had killed Vranic public opinion +began to change in his behalf. A man gifted with an evil eye is a +baleful being, whom everyone dreads meeting--a real curse in a town, +for a number of the daily accidents and trivial misfortunes were +ascribed to the malign influence of his visual organs. It was, +therefore, but natural that Radonic should, tacitly, be looked upon +as a kind of deliverer. Besides this unavowed feeling of relief at +having been rid of the _jettatore_, no one could feel any pity for +Vranic; for even the more indifferent could only shrug their +shoulders, and mutter to themselves, "Serve him right," for he had +only met with the fate he had deserved. + +As for Radonic, he daily grew in the general esteem. There is +something manly in the life of a highwayman who, with his gun, stops +a whole caravan, or asks for bread, his dagger in his hand. It is a +reversion to the old type of prehistoric man. But, more than a +highwayman, Radonic was a _heyduk_, fighting against the Turks, and +putting his life in jeopardy at every step he made. + +For a man of Radonic's frame of mind, there was something enticing in +the life he was leading; struggles and storms seemed congenial to his +nature. On board his ship he would only cast away his sullenness when +danger was approaching, and hum a tune in the midst of the tempest; +in fact, he only seemed to breathe at ease when a stiff gale was +blowing. + +He arrived at Cettinje on the eve of an expedition against the Turks, +just when every man that could bear a gun was welcome, especially +when he made no claim to a share of the booty. Having reached the +confines of Montenegro, amidst those dark rocks, in that eyrie of the +brave, having the sky for his roof and his gun for a pillow, life for +the first time seemed to him worth living. He did not fear death +--nay, he almost courted it. He felt no boding cares for the morrow; +the present moment was more than enough for him. Though he lacked +entirely all the softness of disposition that renders social life +agreeable, he had in him some of the qualities of a hero, or, at +least, of a great military chief--boldness, hardihood and valour. +During the whole of his lifetime he had always tried to make himself +feared, never loved. He cared neither for the people's admiration nor +for their disdain; he only required implicit obedience to orders +given. With such a daring, unflinching character, he soon acquired a +name that spread terror whenever it was uttered; and in a skirmish +that took place a week after his arrival at Cettinje, he killed a +Turkish chieftain, cut off his head, and sent it, by a prisoner he +had taken, to the _Pasha_ of the neighbouring province, informing +this official that he would, if God granted him life, soon treat him +in the same way. A high sum was at once set upon his head, but it was +an easier thing to offer the prize than to obtain it. + +Radonic would have been happy enough now, had he not been married, +or, at least, if he had been wedded to a woman who loved him, and who +would have welcomed him home after a day's, or a week's, hard +fighting--who would have mourned for him had he never come back; but, +alas! he knew that Milena hated him. Roaming in the lonely forests, +climbing on the trackless mountains, lurking amidst the dark rocks +and crags, his heart yearned for the wife he had ill-treated. + +A month, and even more, had elapsed since Vranic had been murdered. +Zwillievic, his father-in-law, had been in Budua, and he had then +come back to Cettinje; but, far from bringing Milena with him, he had +left his wife there to take care of this daughter of his, who, in the +state in which she was, had never recovered from the terrible shock +she had received on that morning when she stumbled upon Vranic's +corpse. + +All kinds of doubts again assailed him, and jealousy, that had always +been festering in his breast, burst out afresh, fiercer than ever; it +preyed again upon him, embittered his life. After all, was it not +possible that Milena was only shamming simply not to come to +Cettinje? Perhaps, he thought, one of the many young men who had +tried to flirt with her, was now at Budua making love to her. + +He, therefore, made up his mind to brave the _pamdours_ (the Austrian +police), to meet with the anger of Vranic's brothers, just to see +Milena again, and find out how she fared, and what she was doing. He, +one evening, started from Cettinje, went down the steep road leading +to the sea-shore, got to the gates of the town at nightfall, and, +wrapped in his great-coat, with his hood pulled down over his eyes, +he crossed the town and reached his house. + +He stopped at the window and looked in; Milena was nowhere to be +seen. He was seized by a dreadful foreboding--what if he had come too +late? Two women were standing near the door of the inner room, +talking. He, at first, could hardly recognise them by the glimmering +light of the oil-lamp; still, after having got nearer the window, he +saw that one of them was Mara Bellacic, and the other his +mother-in-law. + +He then went to the door, tapped gently, and pushed it open; seeing +him, both the women started back astonished. + +His first question was, of course, about his wife. She was a little +better, they said, but still very ill. + +"She is asleep now. You can come in and see her, but take care not to +wake her," added Milena's mother. + +"Yes," quoth Mara, "take care, for should she wake and see you so +unexpectedly, the shock might be fatal." + +Radonic went noiselessly up to the door of the bedroom and peeped in. +Seeing Milena lying motionless on the bed, pale, thin and haggard, he +was seized with a feeling of deep pity, such as he had never felt +before in the whole of his life, and he almost cursed the memory of +his mother, for she had been the first to set him against his wife, +and had induced him to be so stern and harsh towards her. + +He skulked about that night, and on the following day he sent for +Bellacic, for Markovic, and for some kinsmen and acquaintances, and +asked them to help him out of his difficulties. They at once +persuaded him to try and make it up with Vranic's relations, to pay +the _karvarina_ money, and thus hush up the whole affair. + +While public opinion was favourable to him, it would be easy enough +to find several persons to speak in his behalf, to act as mediators +or umpires, and settle the price to be paid for the blood that had +been spilt. + +Although the Montenegrins and the inhabitants of the Kotar, as well +as almost all Dalmatians, are--like the Corsicans--justly deemed a +proud race, amongst whom every wrong must be washed out with blood, +and although they all have a strong sense of honour, so that revenge +becomes a sacred duty, jealously transmitted from one generation to +another, still the old Biblical way of settling all litigations with +fines, and putting a price for the loss of life, is still in full +force amongst them. + +In the present case Vranic's brothers were quite willing to come to a +compromise, that is to say, to give up all thoughts of vengeance, +provided, after all the due formalities had taken place, an adequate +sum were paid to them. First, they had never been fond of their +brother; secondly, they knew quite well that Radonic was fully +justified in what he had done, and that, moreover, everybody +commended him for his rash deed; thirdly, having inherited their +brother's property, the little sorrow they had felt for him the first +moment had quite passed away. + +Markovic and Bellacic set themselves to work at once. Their first +care was to find six young and, possibly, handsome women, with six +babes, who, acting as friends to Radonic, would go to Vranic's +brothers and intercede for him. + +It was rather a difficult task, for Radonic had few friends at Budua. +All the sailors that had been with him had not only rued the time +spent on his ship, but had been enemies to him ever afterwards. He +had married a wife from Montenegro, envied for her beauty, and not +much liked by the gentler sex. Milena had been too much admired by +men for women to take kindly to her; still, as she was now on a bed +of sickness, and all her beauty blasted, envy had changed into pity. + +After no end of trouble, many promises of silk kerchiefs, yards of +stuff for dresses, or other trifles, six rather good-looking women, +and the same number of chubby babies, were mustered, and, on a day +appointed for the purpose, they were to go, together with Markovic +and Bellacic, to sue for peace. + +In the meanwhile Radonic had stealthily called on a number of +persons, had invited them to drink with him, related to them the +number of Turks he had shot, and by sundry means managed to dispose +them in his favour. They, by their influence, tried to pacify the +Vranic family, and a month's truce was granted to Radonic, during +which time the preliminaries of peace were undertaken. + +At last, after many consultations and no end of smooth talking, the +day for the ceremony of the _karvarina_ was fixed upon. Markovic and +Bellacic, together with the six women, carrying their babes and +followed by a crowd of spectators, went up to Vranic's house. As soon +as they got to the door, the women fell down on their knees, bowing +down their heads, and, whilst the babes began to shriek lustily, the +men called out, in a loud voice: + +"Vranic, our brother in God and in St. John, we greet you! Take pity +on us, and allow us to come within your house." + +Having repeated this request three times--during which the women +wailed and the babies shrieked always louder--the door at last was +opened, and the murdered man's two younger brothers appeared on the +threshold. + +Though all the household had been for more than two hours on the +look-out for this embassy, still the two men put on an astonished +look, as if they had not the remotest idea as to what it all meant, +or why or wherefore the crowd had gathered round their house. + +Standing on the threshold they inquired of the men what they wanted, +after which they went and, taking every woman by the hand, made her +get up; then, imprinting a kiss on every howling babe, they tried to +soothe and quiet it. This ceremony over, the women were begged to +enter the house and be seated. Once inside, Bellacic, acting as chief +intercessor, handed to the Vranics six yards of fine cloth which +Radonic had provided him with, this being one of the customary peace +offerings. Then, taking a big bottle of plum brandy from the hands of +one of his attendants, he poured out a glass and offered it to the +master of the house; the glass went round, and the house soon echoed +with the shouts of "_Zivio!_" or "Long life!" and the merriment +increased in the same ratio as the spirits in the huge bottle +decreased. + +When everybody was in a boisterous good-humour--except the two +Vranics, for strong drink only rendered them peevish and +quarrelsome--the subject of the visit was broached. + +Josko Vranic, the elder of the two brothers, would at first not +listen to Bellacic's request. + +"What!" exclaimed he, in the flowery style of Eastern mourners, "do +you ask me to come to terms with Radonic, who cruelly murdered my +brother? Do you wish me to press to my heart the viper from whose +teeth we still smart? Do you think I have no soul, no faith? Oh! my +poor brother"--(he hated him in his lifetime)--"my poor brother, +murdered in the morning of his life, in the spring of his youth, a +star of beauty, a lion of strength and courage; had the murderer's +hand but spared him, what great things might he not have done! Oh, my +brother, my beloved brother! No; blood alone can avenge blood, and +his soul can never rest in peace till my dagger is sheathed in his +murderer's heart. No, Radonic must die; blood for blood; life for +life. I must find out the foul dog and strangle him as he strangled +my beloved brother, or I am no true Slav. Tell me where he is, if you +know, that I may tear him to pieces; for nothing can arrest my arm!" + +Josko Vranic was a tailor, and a very peaceful kind of a tailor into +the bargain. It is true that, when his brain was fuddled with drink, +he was occasionally blood-thirsty; but his rage expended itself far +more in words than in deeds. For the present, he was simply trying to +act his part well, and was only repeating hackneyed phrases often +uttered in houses of mourning, at funerals, and at wakes. + +All his thoughts were bent on the sum of money he might obtain for +_karvarina_, and he, therefore, thought that the more he magnified +his grief, the greater would be the sum he might ask for blood-money. + +Bellacic and Markovic, as well as the other friends of both parties +gathered in the house, deemed it advisable to leave him to give +utterance to his grief. Then, when he had said his say and the +children were quieted, Radonic's friends began to persuade him to +forego all ideas of vengeance, and--after much useless talking--many +prayers from the women, and threats from the babes to begin shrieking +again, Vranic agreed that he would try and smother his grief, nay, +for their sakes, forget his resentment; therefore, after much +cogitation, he named a jury of twenty-four men to act as arbitrators +between him and the murderer, and settle the price that was to be +paid for the blood. This jury was, of course, composed of persons +that he thought hated Radonic, and who would at least demand a sum +equivalent to £200 or £300. He little knew how much his own brother +had been disliked, and the low price that was set on his life. + +These twenty-four persons having been appointed, Radonic called upon +all of them, and got them to meet at Bellacic's house the day before +the ceremony of the _karvarina_; he sent there some small barrels of +choice wine, and provisions of all kinds for the feast of that day, as +well as for the banquet of the morrow, for he knew quite well that +the gall of a bitter enemy is less acrid after a good dinner, and +that an indifferent person becomes a friend when he is chewing the +cud of the dainty things you have provided for him. + +As soon as supper was over, and while the _bucara_ of sweet _muscato_ +wine was being handed round, Bellacic submitted the case to the +twenty-four arbiters, expatiated like a lawyer on the heinous way +Vranic had acted, how like a real snake he had crept between husband +and wife, trying to put enmity between them, and how he had succeeded +in his treachery, doing all this to seduce a poor distracted woman. + +"Now," continued Bellacic, "put yourselves in Radonic's place and +tell me how you yourselves would have acted. If you have the right to +shoot the burglar who, in the dead of night, breaks into your house +to rob you of your purse, is it not natural that you should throttle +the ruffian who, under the mantle of friendship, sneaks into your +bedroom to rob you of your honour? Is the life of such a man worth +more than that of the scorpion you crush under your heel? Vranic was +neither my friend nor my enemy; therefore, I have no earthly reason +to set you against him, nor to induce you to be friendly towards +Radonic. I only ask you to be just, and to tell me the worth of the +blood he has spilt." + +Bellacic stopped for a moment to see the effect of his speech on his +listeners. All seemed to approve his words no less than they did the +sweet wine of the _bucara_; then after a slight pause, he again went +on. + +"Radonic may have many faults, nay, he has many; are we not all of us +full of blemishes? Still, the poor that will be fed for many days +from the crumbs of our feast will surely not say that he is a miser. +Still--withal he is lavish--one thing he is fully determined not to +do, that is to pay more for the blood he has spilt than it is really +worth. + +"It is true that the heirs of the dead man are filling the whole town +with their laments; but do you think that those who mourn so loudly +would gladly welcome their brother back, nay, I ask you how many hands +would be stretched out to greet Vranic if the grave were to yawn and +give up the dead man. Who, within his innermost heart, is not really +glad to have got rid of a man who carried an evil influence with him +whithersoever he went? + +"But speaking the truth in this case is almost like trying to set you +against the exaggerated claims of the late man's brothers; whilst you +all know quite well that I only wish you to act according to your +better judgment, and whatever your decision be, we shall abide by it. +You are husbands, you are Slavs; the honour of your homes, of your +children, of your wives is dear to you; therefore, I drink to your +honour with Radonic's wine." + +As the _bucara_ could not go round fast enough, so glasses were +filled, and toasts were drunk. After that, Bellacic left the room, so +that the jury might discuss the matter under no restraint. Although +twenty of the men were in favour of Radonic, still four thought that +the arguments used in his favour had been so brilliant that Bellacic +had rather charmed than convinced them. They were, however, overruled +by the many, and the bumpers they swallowed in the heat of the +argument ended by convincing them, too. + +"Gentlemen," said Bellacic, coming back, "I shall not ask you now if +Vranic's life was worth a herd or a single cow, a flock or a single +sheep, or even a goat, for here is Teodoroff, the _guzlar_, who is +going to enliven us with the glorious battle of Kossovo, and the +great deeds of our immortal Kraglievic." + +The bard came in, and he was listened to with rapt attention during +the half-hour that his poem lasted. No one spoke, or drank, or even +moved; all remained as if spell-bound; their eyes seemed to seek for +the words as they flowed from the poet's lips. At last the _guzlar_ +stopped, and after a few moments of silence, shouts of applause broke +forth. Just then Radonic came into the room, and the twenty-four men +all shook hands with him heartily, and, excited as the audience was +with the daring deeds of Marko Kraglievic, Bellacic made him relate +some of his encounters with the Turks, and show the holes in his coat +through which the bullets had passed. + +"And now, Teodoroff," said Radonic, finishing the story of his +exploits, "give us something lively; I think we've had enough of +bloodshed for the whole evening." + +"Yes," added Bellacic; "but let us first finish the business for +which we have been brought together, and then we can devote the +remainder of our time to pleasure." + +"Yes," retorted one of the twenty-four arbitrators, "it's time the +matter was settled." + +"Well, then," quoth Markovic, "what is the price of the _jettatore_'s +life?" + +"As for me," said one of the younger men, "it's certainly not worth +that of a cow!" + +"No, nor that of a goat!" added another. + +"Well, let's be generous towards the tailor," said Bellacic, +laughing, "and settle his brother's life at the price of a huge +silver Maria Theresa dollar, eh?" + +Some of the arbitrators were about to demur, but as the proposal had +come from them, they could not well gainsay it. + +"Then it's settled," said Bellacic, hastening to fill the glasses; +"and now, Teodoroff, quick! give us one of your best songs; something +brisk and lively." + +The _guzlar_ took up his instrument, played a few bars as a kind of +prelude, emitted a prolonged "Oh!" which ended away in a trill, and +then began the tale of + + +MARKO KRAGLIEVIC AND JANKO OF SEBINJE. + + Two brave and bonny knights, both bosom friends, + Were Marko Kraglievic of deathless fame, + And Janko of Sebinje, fair and wise. + Both seemed to have been cast within one mould, + For no two brothers could be more alike. + One day, as they were chatting o'er their wine, + Fair Janko said unto his faithful friend: + "My wife has keener eyes than any man's, + And sharper wits besides; our sex is dull; + No man has ever played a trick on her." + Then Marko, smiling, said: "Do let me try + To match, in merry sport, my wits 'gainst hers." + "'Tis well," quoth Janko, with a winsome smile, + "But, still, beware of woman's subtle guile." + Then 'twixt the friends a wager soon was laid; + Fair Janko pledged his horse, a stallion rare, + A fleet and milk-white steed, Kula by name, + And with his horse he pledged his winsome wife; + Whilst, for his wager, Marko pawned his head. + "Now, one thing more; lend me thy clothes," said Mark, + "Thy jewelled weapons, and thy milk-white steed." + And Janko doffed, and Marko donned the clothes, + Then buckled on his friend's bright scimitar. + As soon as Janko's wife spied him from far, + She thought it was her husband, and ran out; + But then she stopped, for something in his mien, + Which her quick eye perceived, proclaimed at once + That warlike knight upon her husband's horse + To be the outward show, the glittering garb + And a fair mirage of the man she loved. + Thereon within her rooms she hied in haste, + And to her help she called her trusty maid. + "O Kumbra, sister mine," she said to her, + "I know not why, but Janko seems so wroth. + Put on my finest clothes, and hie to him." + When Marko saw the maid, he turned aside, + And wrapped himself within his wide _kalpak_, + Then said that he would fain be left alone. + He thought, in sooth, that she was Janko's wife. + A dainty meal was soon spread for the knight. + The lady called again her trusted maid, + And thus she spake: "My Kumbra, for this night + Sleep in my room, nay, in my very bed. + And, for the deed that I demand of thee, + This purse of gold is thine. Besides this gift, + Thou henceforth wilt be free." The maiden bowed, + And said: "My lady's wish is law for me." + Now Marko at his meal sat all alone, + When he had supped he went into the room + Where Kumbra was asleep; there he sat down, + And passed the whole long night upon a chair, + Close by the young girl's bed. He seemed to be + A father watching o'er his sickly child. + But when the gloaming shed its glimmering light, + The knight arose; he went, with stealthy steps, + And cut a lock from off the young girl's head, + Which he at once hid in his breast, with care. + Before the maiden woke he left the house, + And rode full-speed back to his bosom friend. + Still, ere he had alighted from his horse: + "You've lost!" said Janko, with his winsome smile. + "I've won!" quoth Marko, with a modest grace; + "Here is the token that I've won my bet." + And Janko took the golden curl, amazed. + Just then a page, who rode his horse full-speed, + Came panting up, and, on his bended knee, + He handed to his lord a parchment scroll. + The letter thus began: "O husband mine, + Why sendest thou such pert and graceless knights, + That take thy manor for a roadside inn, + And in the dead of night clip Kumbra's locks?" + Thereon, in sprightly style, the wife then wrote + All that had taken place the day before. + And Janko, as he read, began to laugh. + Then, turning to his friend: "Sir Knight," quoth he, + "Have henceforth greater care of thine own head, + Which now, by right and law, belongs to me. + Beware of woman, for the wisest man + Has not the keenness of a maiden's eye. + Come, now, I pledge thy health in foaming wine, + For this, indeed, hath been a merry joke." + + +The greater part of the night was passed in drinking and in listening +to the bard's songs. Little by little sleepiness and the fumes of the +wine overpowered each single man, so that in the small hours almost +all the guests were stretched on the mats that strewed the floor, +fast asleep. + +On the morrow the twenty-four men of the jury went, all in a body, to +Vranic's house. They sat down in state and listened to the tale of +the brothers' grievances, whilst they sipped very inferior +_slivovitz_ and gravely smoked their long pipes. When the tailor +ended the oft-repeated story of his grief and grievances, then they +went back to Bellacic's house, where they gave ear to all the +extenuating circumstances which Radonic brought forward to exculpate +himself. After the culprit had finished, the twenty-four men sat down +in council, and discussed again the matter which had been settled the +evening before. + +A slight, but choice, repast was served to them; and Radonic took +care that no fault could be found with the wine, for he feared that +they might, in their soberer senses, change their mind and reverse +their opinion. + +The dinner had been cooked to perfection, the wine was of the best, +the arguments Radonic had brought forward to clear himself were +convincing--even the four that had been wavering the evening before +were quite for him now. The majority of these men were married, and +jealous of their honour; the others were going to marry, and were +even more jealous than the married men. If Radonic could not be +absolved entirely, still he could hardly be condemned. + +Thus the day passed in much useless talking and discussing, and night +came on. At sundown the guests began to pour in, and soon the house +was crowded. A deputation was then sent to the Vranic family to beg +them to come to the feast. The tailor at first demurred; but being +pressed he yielded, and came with his brother. + +The evening began with the _Karva-Kolo_, or the blood-dance. It is +very like the usual _Kolo_, only the music, especially in the +beginning, is a kind of funeral march, or a dirge; soon the movement +gets brisker, until it changes into the usual _Kolo_ strain. The +orchestra that evening was a choice one; it consisted of two +_guzlas_, a _dipla_ or bag-pipe, and a _sfiraliza_ or Pan's +seven-reeded flute. Later on there was even a triangle, which kept +admirable time. + +A couple of dancers began, another joined in, and so on, until the +circle widened, and then all the people who were too lazy to dance +had either to leave the room or stand close against the wall, so as +not to be in the way. Just when the dance had reached its height, and +the men were twirling the girls about as in the mazy evolutions of +the cotillon, Radonic, who had kept aloof, burst into the room. A +moment of confusion ensued, the dancers stopped, the middle of the +room was cleared, the music played again a low dirge. The guilty man +stood alone, abashed; around his neck, tied to a string, he wore the +dagger with which he might have stabbed Vranic had he not throttled +him. + +As soon as he appeared two of the twenty-four arbitrators, who had +been on the look-out for him, rushed and seized him. Then, feigning a +great wrath, they dragged him towards Vranic, as if they had just +captured him and brought him to be tried. + +"Drag that murderer away, cast him out of the house; or, rather, +leave him to me. Let me kill him." + +"Forgive me," exclaimed Radonic. + +"Down upon him!" cried Vranic. + +The arbitrators thereupon made the culprit bow down so low that his +head nearly touched the floor; then all the assembly uttered a deep +sigh, or rather, a wail, craving--in the name of the Almighty and of +good St. John--forgiveness for the guilty man. + +"Forgiveness," echoed Radonic, for the third time. + +The dancers, who had again begun to walk in rhythmic step around the +room, forming a kind of _chassez-croisez_, stopped, and the music +died away in a low moan. + +There was a moment of eager theatrical expectation. The murdered +man's brother seemed undecided as to what he had to do; at last, +after an inward struggle, he yielded to his better feelings, and +going up to Radonic, he took him by the hand, lifted him up and +kissed him on his forehead. + +A sound of satisfaction, like a sigh of relief, passed through the +assembly; but then Vranic said, in a voice which he tried to render +sweet and soft: + +"Listen, all of you. This man, who has hitherto been my bitterest +enemy, has now become my friend; nay, more than my friend, my very +brother, and not to me alone, but to all who were related to my +beloved brother. All shall forego every wish or idea of revenge, now +and hereafter." + +Thereupon, taking a very small silver coin, he cut it in two, gave +Radonic half, and kept the other for himself, as a pledge of the +friendship he had just sworn. + +When peace had been restored, and everybody had drunk to Radonic's +and Vranic's health, then the _Starescina_, or the oldest arbitrator, +whose judgment was paramount, stood up and made a speech, in which he +uttered the decision of the jury and the sentence of the _karvarina_, +that is to say, that, taking into consideration all the extenuating +circumstances under which the murder had been committed, Radonic was +to pay to Vranic the sum of a silver Maria Theresa dollar, the usual +price of a goat. + +"What!" cried the tailor, in a fit of unsuppressed rage; "do you mean +to say that my brother's life was only worth that of a goat?" + +A slight, subdued tittering was heard amongst the crowd; for, indeed, +it was almost ludicrous to see the little man, pale, trembling and +almost green with rage. + +"No," quoth the umpire, gravely; "I never said that your brother's +life was worth that of a whole herd or of a single goat; the price +that we, arbitrators named by you, have condemned Radonic to pay is a +silver dollar. Put yourself in the murderer's place, and tell us what +you would have done." + +Vranic shrugged his shoulders scornfully. + +"We do not appeal to you alone, but to any man of honour, to any Iugo +Slav, to any husband of the Kotar. What would he have done to a man +who, pretending to be his friend, came by stealth, in the middle of +the night, into his home to----" + +"Then," cried Vranic, in that shrill, womanish voice peculiar to all +his family, "it is not my brother that ought to have been killed. Was +he to blame if he was enticed----" + +"What do you mean?" cried Radonic, clasping the haft of the dagger, +which he ought to have given up to Vranic. + +"Silence!" said the umpire: "you forget that you have promised to +love----" + +"If you intend to speak of Milena," said Bellacic, interrupting the +judge, "you must remember that the evening upon which your brother +was killed she was spending the evening----" + +"At your house? No!" said Vranic, with a scornful laugh, shrugging +his shoulders again. + +"Come, come," said one of the jury; "let's settle the _karvarina_." + +"Besides," added another arbitrator, ingenuously, "Radonic has been +put to the expense of more than fifty goats. Until now, no man has +ever----" + +"Oh, I see!" interrupted the tailor, with a withering sneer; "he has +bribed the few friends my poor brother had, so now even those have +turned against him." + +Oaths, curses, threats were uttered by the twenty-four men, and the +younger and more hasty ones instinctively sought the handles of their +daggers. + +"Gentlemen," said Bellacic, "supper is ready; the two men have sworn +to be friends----" + +"I've sworn nothing at all," muttered the tailor, between his teeth. + +"Let us sit down," continued the master of the house, "and try to +forget our present quarrels; we'll surely come to a better +understanding when cakes flowing with honey and sweet wine are +brought on the table." + +They now carried in for the feast several low, stool-like tables, +serving both as boards and dishes. On each one there was a whole +roasted lamb, resting on a bed of rice. Every guest took out his +dagger and carved for himself the piece he liked best or the one he +could easiest reach, and which he gnawed, holding the bone as a +handle, if there was one, or using the flat, pancake-like bread--the +_chupatti_ of the Indians, the flap-jacks of the Turks--as plates. +Soon the wooden _bukaras_ were handed around, and then all ill-humour +was drowned in the heady wine of the rich Dalmatian soil. After the +lambs and rice, big sirloins of beef and huge tunny-fish followed in +succession, then game, and lastly, pastry and fruit. + +After more than two hours of eating and drinking, with interludes of +singing and shouting, the meal at last came to an end. The gentlemen +of the jury, whose brains had been more or less muddled from the day +before, were now, almost without any exception, quite drunk. As for +the guests, some were jovial and boisterous, others tender and +sentimental. Radonic's face was saturnine; Markovic, who was always +loquacious, and who spoke in Italian when drunk, was making a long +speech that had never had a beginning and did not seem to come to an +end; and the worst of it was that, during the whole time, he clasped +tightly one of the _bukaras_, and would not relinquish his hold of +it. + +As for Vranic and his younger brother, they had both sunk down on the +floor sulky and silent. The more they ate and drank, the more +weazened and wretched they looked, and the expression of malice on +their angry faces deepened their wrinkles into a fiendish scowl. + +"I think," said the elder brother, "it is time all this was over, and +that we should be going." + +"Going?" exclaimed all the guests who heard it. "And where do you +want to go?" + +"Oh, if he isn't comfortable, let him go!" said one of the +arbitrators. "I'm sure I don't want to detain him; his face isn't so +pleasant to look at that we should beg him to stay--no, nor his +company either." + +"Oh, I daresay you would like to get rid of me, all of you!" + +"Well, then, shall we wind up this business?" said the judge of the +_karvarina_, putting his hand on Radonic's shoulder. + +"I am quite ready," said he. + +Thereupon he drew forth his leather purse and took out several Maria +Theresa dollars. + +"Shall we make it five instead of one?" he asked, spreading out the +new and shining coins on his broad palm. "Now, tell me, tailor, if I +am niggardly with my money?" he added, handing the sum to Vranic. + +The tailor seized the dollars and clenched his fist; then, with a +scowl: + +"I don't want any of your charity," he hissed out in a shrill treble. +"Five are almost worth six goats, and my brother is worth but one. +Here, take your money back; distribute it among the arbitrators, to +whom you have been so generous. No, _heyduk_, you are not niggardly; +but, then, what are a few dollars to you? a shot of your gun and your +purse is full. Thanks all the same, I only want my due. No robber's +charity for me." And with these words he flung the five dollars in +Radonic's face. + +The sharp edge of one of the coins struck Radonic on the corner of +the eye, just under the brow, and the blood trickled down. All his +drunkenness vanished, his gloomy look took a fierce expression, and +with a bound he was about to seize his antagonist by the throat and +strangle him as he had done his brother; but Vranic, who was on his +guard, lifted up the knife he had received from the murderer a few +hours before, and quick as lightning struck him a blow on his breast. + +"This is my _karvarina_," said he; "tooth for tooth, eye for eye, +blood for blood." + +The blow had been aimed at Radonic's heart, but he parried it and +received a deep gash in the fore-part of his arm. + +A scuffle at once ensued; some of the less drunken men threw +themselves on Vranic, others on Radonic. + +"Sneak, traitor, coward!" shouted the chief arbitrator, striking +Vranic in the face and almost knocking him down; "how dare you do +such a thing after having begged us to settle the _karvarina_ for +you?" + +"And you've settled it nicely, indeed; gorged with his meat, drunk +with his wine, and your purses filled with his money." + +"Liar!" shouted the men of the jury. + +"Out of my house, you scorpion, and never cross its threshold again." + +"I go, and I'm only too glad to be rid of you all;--but as for you," +said Vranic to Bellacic, "had it not been for you, all this would not +have happened." + +"What have I to do with it?" + +"Did you not come to beg me to make it up? But I suppose you were +anxious to have the whole affair hushed up as quickly as possible." + +"Fool!" answered Bellacic. + +"Oh, Milena is not always at your house for nothing!" + +"What did he say?" asked Radonic, trying to break away from the hands +of the men who were holding him, and from Mara Bellacic, who was +bandaging up his wound. + +"What do you care what he said?" replied Bellacic; "his slander only +falls back upon himself, just as if he were spitting in the wind; it +can harm neither you nor Milena." + +"Oh, we shall meet again!" cried Radonic. + +"We shall certainly meet, if ever you escape the Turkish gallows, or +the Austrian prisons." + +And as he uttered these last words, he disappeared in the darkness of +the road. + + + + +CHAPTER XV + +A COWARD'S VENGEANCE + + +When the _pobratim_ returned to Budua they found the whole town +divided into two camps, and, consequently, in a state of open war. +Since the evening of the _karvarina_ two parties had formed +themselves, the Vranites and the Radonites. The first, indeed, were +few, and did not consist of friends of Vranic, but simply of people +who had a grudge, not only against Radonic, but against Bellacic and +the twenty-four men of the jury, who were accused of peculation. On +the whole, public opinion was bitter against the tailor, for, after +having made peace with his enemy, he had tried to murder him; then +--as if this had not been enough--he had gone on the morrow and given +warning to the police that Radonic, who had cowardly murdered his +brother, had returned to Budua, and was walking about the streets +unpunished; moreover, that the _heyduk_ had threatened to murder him, +so he came to appeal for protection. + +This happened when Budua had just been incorporated with the Austrian +empire, and the people, jealous of their customs, looked upon the +protection of the government as an officious intermeddling with their +own private affairs, and strongly resented their being treated as +children unable to act for themselves. + +Although a few crimes had been left unpunished, simply not to rouse +at once the general feeling against its present masters, still the +new jurisdiction was bent upon putting a stop to the practice of the +_karvarina_; and to make this primitive country understand that, +under a civilised form of government, people paid taxes to be +protected by wise and just laws; therefore, it was the duty of a +well-regulated police to discover and punish equitably all offences +done to any particular man. + +In the present case, where notice was brought to the police of facts +that had happened, and aid was requested, steps had to be taken to +secure the person of the offender, and, therefore, to have Radonic +arrested at once for manslaughter. + +Friends, however, came at once to inform Radonic of what had taken +place, advising him to take flight, and put at once the border +mountains of Montenegro between himself and the Austrian police. + +The officials gave themselves and, what was far worse, everybody else +no end of trouble and annoyance with Vranic's case. They went about +arresting wrong persons, as a well-regulated police sometimes does, +and then, after much bother and many cross-examinations, everyone was +set free, and the whole affair dropped. + +Milena, who was slowly recovering from her long illness, was the +first to be summoned to answer about her husband's crime. Bellacic +was after that accused of sheltering the murderer, and threatened +with fines, confiscation, imprisonment and other such penalties; +then he was also set free. The twenty-four men of the jury were next +summoned; but, as they had only acted as peacemakers on behalf of +Vranic, they, too, were reprimanded, and then sent about their +business. + +After this Vranic's partisans dwindled every day, till at last he +found himself shunned by everyone. Even his customers began to +forsake him, and to have their clothes made by a more fortunate +competitor. At last he could not go out in the streets without having +the children scream out after him: + +"Spy! spy! Austrian spy!" + +The clergy belonging to the Orthodox faith looked upon the new law +against the _karvarina_ as an encroachment on their privileges. A +tithe of the price of blood-money always went to the Church; sundry +candles had to be lighted to propitiate, not God or Christ, but some +of the lower deities and mediators of the Christian creed. The law, +which took from them all interference in temporal matters, was a blow +to their authority and to their purses. Even if they were not begged +to act as arbitrators, they were usually invited as guests to the +feast, so that some pickings and perquisites were always to be got. + +Vranic obtained no satisfaction from the police, to whom he had +applied; he was only treated as a cur by the whole population, was +nearly excommunicated by the Church, and looked upon as an apostate +from the saintly customs of the Iugo Slavs. + +Taunted by his own family with having made a muddle of the whole +affair, treated with scornful disdain by friends and foes, the poor +tailor, who had never been very good-tempered, had got to look upon +all mankind as his enemies. + +Thus it happened, one day, that Bellacic was at the coffee-house with +Markovic and some other friends, when Vranic came in to get shaved. + +"What! do you shear poodles and curs?" he asked. + +The loungers began to laugh. Vranic, whose face was being lathered, +ground his teeth and grunted. + +"I say, has he a medal round his neck?" + +"What! do they give a medal to spies?" asked one of the men. + +"No," quoth Bellacic; "but according to their law, no dog is allowed +to go about without a medal, which proves that he has paid his +taxes." + +"Keep quiet," said the barber and _kafedgee_, "or I'll cut you!" + +"Do government dogs also pay taxes?" said another man, smiling. + +"Ask the cur! he'll tell you," replied Bellacic. + +"Mind, Bellacic!" squeaked out Vranic, who was now shaved; "curs have +teeth!" + +"To grind, or to grin with?" + +"By St. George and St. Elias! I'll be revenged on all of you, and you +the very first!" and livid with rage, grinding his teeth, shaking his +fist, Vranic left the coffee-house, followed by the laughter of the +by-standers, and the barking of the boys outside. + +"He means mischief!" quoth the _kafedgee_. + +"When did he not mean mischief," replied Markovic, "or his brother +either?" + +"Don't speak of his brother." + +"Why, he's dead and buried." + +"The less you speak of some dead people, the better," and the +_kafedgee_ crossed himself. + +"He's a sly fox," said one of the men waiting to be shaved. + +"Pooh! foxes are sometimes taken in by an old goose, as the story +tells us." + +Everybody knew the old story, but, as the barber was bent upon +telling it, his customers were obliged to listen. + + +Once upon a time, there was a little silver-grey hen, that got into +such an ungovernable fit of sulks, that she left the pleasant +poultry-yard where she had been born and bred, and escaped on to the +highway by a gap in the hedge. The reason of her ill-humour was that +she had seen her lord and master flirt with a moulting old hatching +hen, and she had felt ruffled at his behaviour. + +"Surely, the only advantage that old hen has over me," she +soliloquised, "is a greater experience of life. If I can but see a +little more of the world, I, too, might be able to discuss +philosophical topics with my husband, instead of cackling noisily +over a new-laid egg. It is an undeniable fact that home-keeping hens +have only homely wits, and cocks are only hen-pecked by hens of +loftier minds than themselves, and not by such common-place females +who think that life has no other aim than that of laying a fresh egg +every day." + +On the other side of the hedge she met a large turkey strutting +gravely about, spreading out his tail, making sundry gurgling noises +in his throat, puffing and swelling himself in an apoplectic way, +until he got of a bluish, livid hue about his eyes, whilst his gills +grew purple. + +Surely, thought the little grey hen, that turkey must be a doctor of +divinity who knows the aim of life; every word that falls from his +beak must be a priceless pearl. + +The little silver-grey hen looked at him with the corner of her eye, +just as coquettish ladies are apt to do when they look at you over +the corners of their fans. + +"I say, Mrs. Henny, whither are you bound, all alone?" said the old +turkey, with his round eyes. + +"I am bent upon seeing a little of the world and improving my mind," +said the little hen. + +"A most laudable intention," said the turkey; "and if you'll permit +me, young madam, I myself will accompany, or rather, escort you in +this journey, tour, or excursion of yours. And if the little +experience I have acquired can be of some slight use to you----" + +"How awfully good of you!" said the gushing little hen. "Why, really, +it would be too delightful!" + +As they went on their way the old turkey at once informed the little +hen that he was a professor of the Dovecot University, and he at once +began to expatiate learnedly about adjectives, compounds, anomalous +verbs, suffixes and prefixes, of objective cases and other such +interesting topics. She listened to him for some time, although she +could not catch the drift of his speech. At last she came to the +conclusion that all this must be transcendental philosophy, so she +repeated mechanically to herself all the grave words he spouted, and +of the whole lecture she just made out a charming little phrase, with +which she thought she would crush her husband some day or other. It +was: "Don't run away with the idea that I'm anomalous enough to be +governed by objective cases, for, after all, what's a husband but a +prefix?" + +"And are you married?" asked the little hen, as soon as the turkey +had stopped to take breath. + +"I am," said the old turkey, with a sigh, "and although I have a +dozen wives, I must say I haven't yet found one sympathetic listener +amongst them." + +"Are they worldly-minded?" asked she. + +"They are frivolous, they think that the aim of life is laying eggs." + +"Pooh!" said the little hen, scornfully. + +As they went along, they met a gander, which looked at them from over +a palisade. + +"I say, where are you two off to?" + +"We are bent upon seeing the world and improving our minds." + +"How delightful. Now tell me, would it be intruding if I joined your +party? I know they say: Two are company, and three are not, still----" + +"They also say: The more the merrier," quoth the little hen. + +The turkey blushed purple, but he managed to keep his temper. + +They went on together, and the gander, who was a great botanist, told +them the name of every plant they came across; and then he spoke very +learnedly with the turkey about Greek roots and Romance particles. + +A little farther on they met a charming little drake with a killing +curled feather in his tail, quite an _accroche-coeur_, and the little +hen ogled him and scratched the earth so prettily with her feet that +at last she attracted the drake's notice. + +After some cackling the little drake joined the tourists, +notwithstanding the gurgling of the turkey and the hissing of the +gander. + +As they went on, they of course spoke of matrimony; the gander +informed them that he was a bachelor, and the little drake added that +he was an apostle of free love, at which the little hen blushed, the +turkey puffed himself up until he nearly burst, and the gander looked +grave. The worst of it was, that the little drake insisted on +discussing his theories and trying to make proselytes. + +They were so intently attending to the little drake's wild theories, +that they hardly perceived a hare standing on his hind legs, with his +ears pricked up, listening to and looking at them. + +The hare, having heard that they were globe-trotters, bent upon +seeing the world and improving their minds, joined their party at +once; they even, later on, took with them a tortoise and a hedgehog. +At nightfall, they arrived in a dense forest, where they found a +large hollow tree, in the trunk of which they all took shelter. + +The little hen ensconced herself in a comfortable corner, and the +drake nestled close by her; the hare lay at her feet, and the gander +and turkey on either side. The tortoise and the hedgehog huddled +themselves up and blocked up the opening, keeping watch lest harm +should befall them. + +They passed the greater part of the night awake, telling each other +stories; and as it was in the dark, the tales they told were such as +could not well be repeated in the broad daylight. + +Soon, however, the laughter was more subdued; the chuckling even +stopped. Sundry other noises instead were heard; then the drowsy +voices of the story-tellers ceased; they had all fallen fast asleep. + +Just then, while the night wind was shivering through the boughs, and +the moon was silvering the boles of the ash-trees, or changing into +diamonds the drops of dew in the buttercups and bluebells, a young +vixen invited a shaggy wolf to come and have supper with her. + +"This," she said, stopping before the hollow tree, "is my larder. You +must take pot-luck, for I'm sure I don't know what there is in it. +Still, it is seldom empty." + +The wolf tried to poke his nose in, but he was stopped by the +tortoise. + +"They have rolled a stone at the door," said the wolf. + +"So they have; but we can cast it aside," quoth the vixen. + +They tried to push the tortoise aside; but he clung to the sides of +the tree with his claws, so that it was impossible to remove him. + +"Let's get over the stone," said the wolf. + +They did their best to get over the tortoise, but they were met by +the hedgehog. + +"They've blocked up the place with brambles and thorns," said the +vixen. + +"So they have," replied the wolf. + +"What's to be done?" asked the one. + +"What's to be done?" replied the other. + +"I hear rascally robbers rummaging around," gurgled the turkey-cock, +in a deep, low tone. + +"Did you hear that?" asked the wolf. + +"Yes," said the vixen, rather uneasy. + +"We'll catch them, we'll catch them," cackled the hen. + +"For we are six, we are six," echoed the drake. + +"There are six of them," said the vixen. + +"And we are only two," retorted the wolf. + +"So they'll catch us," added the vixen. + +"Nice place your larder is," snarled the wolf. + +"I'm afraid the police have got into it," stammered the vixen. + +"Hiss, hiss, hiss!" uttered the gander, from within. + +"That's the scratch of a match," said the vixen. + +"If they see us we are lost," answered the wolf. + +Just then the turkey, who had puffed himself up to his utmost, +exploded with a loud puff. + +"Firearms," whispered the wolf. + +"It's either a mine or a bomb," quoth the vixen. + +"Dynamite," faltered the wolf. + +They did not wait to hear anything else; but, in their terror, they +turned on their heels and scampered off as fast as their legs could +carry them. In a twinkling they were both out of sight. + +The travellers in the hollow tree laughed heartily; then they +returned to their corners and went off to sleep. On the morrow, at +daybreak, they resumed their wanderings, and I daresay they are +travelling still, for it takes a long time to go round the world. + + +A few days afterwards Bellacic went to visit one of his vineyards. +This, of all his land, was his pride and his boast. He had, besides, +spent much money on it, for all the vines had been brought from Asia +Minor, and the grapes were of a quality far superior to those which +grew all around. The present crop was already promising to be a very +fair one. + +On reaching the first vines, Bellacic was surprised to perceive that +all the leaves were limp, withering or dry. The next vines were even +in a worse condition. He walked on, and, to his horror, he perceived +that the whole of his vineyard was seared and blasted, as if warm +summer had all at once changed into cold, bleak, frosty winter. Every +stem had been cut down to the very roots. Gloomy and disconsolate he +walked about, with head bent down, kicking every vine as he went on; +all, all were fit for firewood now. It was not only a heavy loss of +money, it was something worse. All his hopes, his pride, seemed to be +crushed, humbled by it. He had loved this vineyard almost as much as +his wife or his son, and now it was obliterated from the surface of +the earth. + +Had it been the work of Nature or the will of God, he would have +bowed his head humbly, and said: "Thy will be done"; but he was +exasperated to think that this had all been the work of a man--the +vengeance of a coward--a craven-hearted rascal that, after all, he +had never harmed, for this could be only Vranic's doing. In his +passion he felt that if he had held the dastard at that moment, he +would have crushed him under his feet like a reptile. + +As Bellacic slowly arrived at the other end of the vineyard, he felt +that just then he could not retrace his steps and cross the whole of +his withering vines once more. He stopped there for a few moments, +and looked around; then it seemed to him as if he had seen a man +crouch down and disappear behind the bushes. + +Could it be Vranic coming to gloat over him and enjoy his revenge? or +was it not an image of his over-heated imagination? + +He stood stock-still for a while, but nothing moved. He went slowly +on, and then he heard a slight rustling noise. He advanced, crouching +like a cat or a tiger, with fixed, dilated eyes and pricked-up ears. +He saw the bushes move, he heard the sound of footsteps; then he saw +the figure of a man bending low and running almost on all fours, so +as not to be seen. + +It was Vranic; now he could be clearly recognised. Bellacic ran after +him; Vranic ran still faster. All at once he caught his foot on a +root that had shot through the earth; he stumbled and fell down +heavily. As he rose, Bellacic came up to him. + +"Villain, scoundrel, murderer! is it you who----? Yes, it could be no +other dog than you! Moreover, you wanted to see how they looked." + +"What?" said Vranic, ghastly pale, trembling from head to foot. +"What?--I really don't know what you mean." + +"Do you say that you haven't cut down my vines?" + +"_I_ cut your vines? What vines?" + +"Have, at least, the courage of your cowardly deeds, you sneak." + +Thereupon Bellacic gave him a blow which made him reel. Vranic began +to howl, and to take all the saints as witnesses of his innocence. + +"Stop your lies, or I'll pluck that vile tongue of yours out of your +mouth, and cast it in your face!" + +Vranic thereupon took out his knife and tried to stab Bellacic. The +two men fought. + +"Is that the knife with which you cut my vines?" + +"No; I kept it for you," replied Vranic, aiming a deadly blow at his +adversary. + +Bellacic parried the blow, and in the scuffle which ensued Vranic +dropped his knife as his antagonist overpowered him and knocked him +down. + +Although Vranic was struggling with all his might, he was no match +for Bellacic, who pinned him down and managed to pick up the dagger. + +"You have cut down all my vines; now you yourself 'll have a taste of +your own knife." + +"Mercy! mercy! Do not kill me!" + +"No, no; I'll not kill you," said Bellacic, kneeling down upon him; +then, bending over him and catching hold of his right ear, he, with a +quick, firm hand, severed it at a stroke. + +Vranic was howling loud enough to be heard miles off. + +"Now for the other," said Bellacic. "I'll nail them to a post in my +vineyard as a scarecrow for future vermin of your kind." + +Vranic, however, wriggled, and, with an effort, managed to rise; then +he took to his heels, holding his bleeding head and yelling with pain +and fear. + +Bellacic made no attempt to stop him, or cut off his other ear, as he +had threatened to do; he quietly walked away, perfectly satisfied +with the punishment he had inflicted on the scoundrel. Instead of +returning home he thought it more prudent to go and spend the night +in the neighbouring convent, and thus avoid any conflict with the +police. + +Bellacic, who had ever been generous to the monks, was now welcomed +by the brotherhood; the best wine was brought forth and a lay servant +was at once despatched to town to find out what Vranic had done, and, +on the morrow, one of the friars themselves went to reconnoitre and +to inform Mara that her husband was safe and in perfect health. + +Upon that very day the _Spera in Dio_ cast anchor in the harbour of +Budua, and Uros reached home just when the police had come to arrest +his father for having cut off Vranic's ear; and the confusion that +ensued can hardly be described. + +For the sake of doing their duty, the guards, who were Buduans, made +a pretence of looking for Bellacic; they knew very well that he would +not be silly enough to wait till they came to arrest him. + +Mara, like all women in such an emergency, was thoroughly upset to +see the police in her house. She threw her arms round her son, and +begged him to keep quiet, and not to interfere in the matter, lest +their new masters' wrath should be visited upon him. Anyhow, as the +police tried to make themselves as little obnoxious as they possibly +could, and as they went through their duties with as much grace, and +as little zeal, as possible, Uros did not interfere to prevent them +from discharging their unpleasant task. + +The poor mother wept for joy at seeing her son, and for grief at the +thought that her husband was an exile from his house at his time of +life; but just then the good friar came in and brought news from +Bellacic, and comforted the family, saying that in a very few days +the whole affair would be quieted, and their guest would be able to +come back home. + +"And will he remain with you all that time?" asked Mara. + +"We should be very pleased to have him," replied the friar; "but for +his sake and ours, it were better for him to cross the mountain and +remain at Cettinje till the storm has blown over." + +"And when does he start?" + +"This evening." + +"May I come and see him before he goes?" asked Mara. + +"Certainly, and if you wish to go at once, I'll wait here a little +while longer, just not to awaken suspicion." + +Mara, therefore, went off at once, and the friar followed her a +quarter of an hour afterwards. + +Uros, on seeing Milena, felt as if he were suffocating; his heart +began to beat violently, and then it seemed to stop. He, for a +moment, gasped for breath. She, too, only recovering from her +illness, felt faint at seeing him. + +Uros found her looking handsomer and younger than before; her +complexion was so pale, her skin so transparent, that her eyes not +only looked much larger, but bluer and more luminous than ever. To +Uros they seemed rather like the eyes of an angel than those of a +woman. Her fingers were so long and thin; her hand was of a lily +whiteness, as it nestled in Uros' brown, brawny and sunburnt one. + +All her sprightliness was gone; the roguish smile had vanished from +her lips. Not only her features, but her voice had also changed; it +was now so pure, so weak, so silvery in its sound; so veiled withal, +like a voice coming from afar and not from the person sitting by you. +It was as painful to hear as if it had been a voice from beyond the +grave, and it sent a pang to the young man's heart. + +As he put his arm around her frail waist, the tears rose to his eyes, +and he could hardly find the words, or utter them softly enough, to +say to her: "Milena, _srce moja_," (my heart) "do you still love me?" + +"Hush, Uros!" said she, shuddering; "never speak to me of love +again." + +"Milena!" + +"Yes," continued she, sighing, "my sin has found me out. Had I +behaved as I should have done, so many people would not have come to +grief. Vranic might still have been alive." + +"But you never gave him any encouragement, did you?" said Uros, +misunderstanding her meaning. + +The tears started to her eyes. Weak as she was, she felt everything +acutely. + +"Do you think I could have done such a thing? And yet you are right; +I used to be so light once; but that seems to me so long, so very +long ago. But I have grown old since then, terribly old; I have +suffered so much." + +"I was wrong, dearest; forgive me. I remember how that fiend +persecuted you. I was near sending him to hell myself, and it was a +pity I didn't; anyhow, I was so glad when I heard that Radonic +had----" + +"Hush! I was the cause of that man's death. Through it my husband +became an outcast, and now your father has been obliged to flee from +his home----" + +"How can you blame yourself for all these things? It is only because +you have been so ill and weak that you have got such fancies into +your head; but now that I am here, and you know how much I love +you----" + +She shuddered spasmodically, and a look of intense pain and +wretchedness came over her features. + +"Never speak of love any more, unless you wish to kill me." + +Uros looked at her astonished. + +"I know that in all this I am entirely to blame; but if a woman can +atone for her sin by suffering, I think----" + +"Then you do not love me any more?" asked Uros, dejectedly. + +She looked up into his eyes, and, in that deep and earnest glance of +hers, she seemed to give up her soul to him. If months ago she had +loved him with all the levity of a reckless child, now she loved him +with all the pathos of a woman. + +Uros caught her in his arms and pressed her to his heart. She leaned +her head on his shoulder, as if unable to keep it upright; an ashy +paleness spread itself over all her features, her very lips lost all +their colour, her eyelids drooped; she had fainted. Uros, terrified, +thought she was dying, nay, dead. + +"Milena, my love, my angel, speak to me, for Heaven's sake!" he +cried. + +After a few moments, however, she slowly began to recover, and then +burst into a hysteric fit of sobbing. + +When at last she came again to her senses, she begged Uros never to +speak to her of love, as that would be her death. + +"Besides," added she, "now that I am better, I shall return to my +parents, for I can never go back to that dreadful house of mine. I +could never cross its threshold again." + +Uros was dismayed. He had been looking forward to his return with +such joy, and now that he was back, the woman he worshipped was about +to flee from him. + +"Do not look so gloomy," said she, trying to cheer him; "remember +that----" + +Her faltering, weak voice died in her throat; she could not bring +herself to finish her phrase. + +"What?" asked Uros, below his breath. + +"That I'm another man's wife." + +"Oh, Milena! don't say such horrible things; it's almost like +blasphemy." + +"And still it's true; besides----" + +Her voice, which had become steady, broke down again. + +"Besides what?" said Uros, after a moment's pause, leaving her time +to breathe. + +"You'll be a husband yourself, some day," she added in an undertone. + +"Never," burst forth Uros, fiercely, "unless I am your husband." + +"Hush!" said she, shuddering with fear and crossing herself. "Your +father wishes you to marry, and--I wish it too," she added in a +whisper. + +"No, you don't, Milena; that's a lie," he replied, passionately. +"Could you swear it on the holy Cross?" + +"Yes, Uros, if it's for your good, I wish it, too. You know that +I----" + +Her pale face grew of deep red hue; even her hands flushed as the +blood rushed impetuously upwards. + +"Well?" asked Uros, anxiously. + +"That I love you far more than I do myself." + +He clasped her in his arms tenderly, and kissed her shoulders, not +daring to kiss her lips. + +"Would it be right for me to marry a young girl whom I do not love, +when all my soul is yours?" + +"Still," said she, shuddering, "our love is a sin before God and +man." + +"Why did you not tell me so when I first knew you? Then, perhaps, I +might not have loved you." + +Milena's head sank down on her bosom, her eyes filled with tears, +there was a low sound in her throat. Then, in a voice choking with +sobs, she said: + +"You are right, Uros; I was to blame, very much to blame. I was as +thoughtless as a child; in fact, I was a child, and I only wanted to +be amused. But since then I have grown so old. Lying ill in bed, +almost dying, I was obliged to think of all the foolish things I said +and did, so----" + +"So you do not love me any more," he said, abruptly; but seeing the +look of sorrow which shadowed Milena's face, he added: "My heart, +forgive me; it is only my love for you that makes me so peevish. When +you ask me to forget you----" + +"And still you must try and do so. The young girl your father has +chosen for you----" + +"Loves some one else," interrupted Uros. + +Milena looked up with an expression of joy she vainly tried to +control. The young man thereupon told her the mistake which had taken +place, and all that had happened the last time he and his friend had +been at Zara. + +"Giulianic has taken a solemn oath that I shall never marry his +daughter, and as Milenko is in love with her, I hope my father will +release his friend from the promise----" + +Just then the door opened, and Mara came in. + +"Well, mother," said Uros, "what news do you bring to us?" + +"Your father is safe, my boy. He left this morning for Montenegro; by +this time he must have crossed the border. On the whole, the police +tried to look for him where they knew they could not find him. He +left word that he wishes to see you very much, and begs you to go up +to Cettinje as soon as you can." + +"I'll go and see Milenko, so that he may take sole charge of the +ship, and then I'll start this very evening." + +"No, child, there is no such hurry! Rest to-night; you can leave +to-morrow, or the day after." + +Having seen Milenko, and entrusted the ship for a few days entirely +to him, Uros started early on the next morning for the black +mountains. + +Mara could hardly tear herself away from him. She had been waiting so +eagerly for his arrival, and now, when he had come home, she was +obliged to part from him. + +"Do not stay there too long, for then you will only return to start, +and I'll have scarcely seen you." + +"No, I'll only stay there one or two days, no more." + +"And then I hope you'll not mix up in any quarrel. I'm so sorry +you've come back just now." + +"Come, mother," said Uros, smiling pleasantly as he stood on the +doorstep before starting, "what harm can befall me? I haven't mixed +up in any of the _karvarina_ business, nor am I running away as an +outlaw; if we have some enemies they are all here, not there. I +suppose I'll find father at Zwillievic's or some other friend's +house. Your fears are quite unfounded, are they not?" + +All Uros said was quite true, but still his mother refused to be +comforted. As he bade Milena good-bye, "Remember!" she whispered to +him, and she slipped back into her room. + +Did she wish him to remember that she was Radonic's wife? + +Uros thereupon started with a heavy heart; everybody seemed to have +changed since he had left Budua. + +The early morning was grey and cloudy, and although Uros was very +fond of his father, and anxious to see him, still he was loth to +leave his home. + +At the town gate Uros met Milenko, who had come to walk part of the +way with him. Uros, who was thinking of his mother and especially of +Milena, had quite forgotten his bosom friend. Seeing him so +unexpectedly, his heart expanded with a sudden movement of joy, and +he felt at that moment as if they had met after having been parted +for ages. + +"Well?" asked Milenko, as they walked along. "Do you remember when we +first started from Budua, we thought that we'd have reached the +height of happiness the day we'd sail on our own ship?" + +"I remember." + +"The ship is almost our own, and happiness is farther off than ever." + +"Wait till we come back next voyage, and things might look quite +different then." + +The sun just then began to dawn; the dark and frowning mountains lost +all their grimness as a pale golden halo lighted up their tops; +drowsy nature seemed to awake with a smile, and looked like a rosy +infant does when, on opening its eyes, it sees its mother's beaming +face. + +The two friends walked on. Uros spoke of the woman he loved, and +Milenko listened with a lover's sympathy. + +Milenko walked with his friend for about two hours; then he bade Uros +good-bye, promising him to go at once to his mother and Milena, and +tell them how he was faring. + +Uros began to climb up the rugged path leading towards Montenegro. +After a quarter of an hour, the two friends stopped, shouted "Ahoy!" +to each other, waved their hands and then resumed their walk. Towards +nightfall Uros reached the village where Zwillievic lived. + +With a beating heart, sore feet and aching calves he trudged on +towards the house, which, as he hoped, was to be the goal of his +journey. As he pushed the door open he shuddered, thinking that +instead of his father he might happen to find Milena's husband. + +The apartment into which he entered was a large and rather low room, +serving as a kitchen, a parlour, a dining and a sleeping room. It +was, in fact, the only room of the house. Its walls were cleanly +whitewashed; not a speck of dust could be seen anywhere, nor a cobweb +amidst the rafters in the ceiling. The inner part was used for +sleeping purposes, for against the walls on either side there were +two huge beds. By the beds, two boxes--one of plain deal, like the +chests used by sailors; the other, made of cypress-wood and quaintly +carved--contained the family linen. In the middle of the room stood a +rough, massive table, darkened and polished by daily use, and some +three-legged stools around it. The walls were decorated with the real +wealth of the family--weapons of every shape, age and kind. Short +guns, the butt ends of which were all inlaid with mother-of-pearl; +long carbines with silver incrustations; modern rifles and +fowling-pieces; swords, scimitars, daggers, yatagans; pistols and +blunderbusses with niello and filigree silver-work, gemmed like +jewels or church ornaments. These trophies were heirlooms of +centuries. Over one of the beds there was a silver- and gold-plated +Byzantine icon, over the other a hideous German print of St. George. +The Prince of Cappadocia, who was killing a grass-green dragon, wore +for the occasion a yellow mantle, a red doublet and blue tights. +Under each of these images there was a fount of holy water and a +little oil-lamp. + +As Uros stepped in, Milena's mother, who was standing by the hearth, +preparing the supper, turned round to see who had just come in. She +looked at him, but as he evidently was a stranger to her, she came up +a step or two towards him. + +"Good evening, _domacica_," for she was not only the lady of the +house, but the wife of the head of the family and the chief of the +clan, or tribe. + +"Good evening, _gospod_," said she, hesitatingly. + +"You do not know me, I think. I am a kind of cousin of yours, Uros +Bellacic." + +"What, is it you, my boy? I might have known you by your likeness to +your mother; but when I saw you last you were only a little child, +and now you are quite a grown-up man," added she, looking at him with +motherly fondness. "Have you walked all the way from Budua?" + +"Yes, I left home this morning." + +"Then you must be tired. Come and sit down, my boy." + +"I am rather tired; you see, we sailors are not accustomed to walk +much. But tell me first, have you seen my father? Is he staying with +you?" + +"Yes, he came yesterday. He is out just now, but he'll soon be back +with Zwillievic. Sit down and rest," said she, "and let me give you +some water to wash, for you must be travel-sore and dusty." + +As Uros sat down, she, after the Eastern fashion, bent to unlace his +_opanke_; but he, unaccustomed to be waited upon by women, would not +allow her to perform such a menial act for him. + +He had hardly finished his ablutions when his father and the +_gospodar_ came in. Seeing his son, Bellacic stretched out his arms +and clasped him to his heart. Then they began talking about all that +had taken place since they had seen each other; and, supper being +served, Uros, while he ate with a good appetite, related all the +adventures of his seafaring life, and did his best to keep his father +amused. At the end of the meal, when everyone was in a good-humour, +the pipes being lit and the _raki_ brought forth, he told them how +Milenko had fallen in love with the girl who ought to have been his +bride, how she reciprocated his affection, and the many complications +that followed, until Giulianic swore, in great wrath, that he, Uros, +should never marry his daughter. Although this part of the story did +not amuse the father as much as it did the rest of the company, still +it was related with such graphic humour that he could not help +joining in the laughter. + +On the morrow, Bellacic, wanting to have a quiet talk with his son, +proposed that they should go and see a little of the country, and, +perhaps, meet Radonic, who was said to be coming back from the +neighbourhood of Scutari. + +As they walked on, Bellacic spoke of his lost vineyard, and of his +rashness in cutting off Vranic's ear; then he added: + +"Remember, now that you are going back to Budua, you must promise me +that, as long as you are there, you'll not mix up in this stupid +_karvarina_ business. I know that I am asking much, for if we old men +are hasty, recommending you who are young and hot-headed to be cool +is like asking the fire not to burn, or the sun not to shine; still, +for your mother's sake and for mine, you'll keep aloof from those +reptiles of Vranics, will you not?" + +Uros promised to do his best and obey. + +"I'd have liked to see you married and settled in life," and Bellacic +cast a questioning glance at his son. + +Uros looked down and twisted the ends of his short and crisp +moustache. + +"It is true you are very young still; it is we--your mother and I +--who are getting old." + +Uros continued to walk in silence by his father's side. + +"If Ivanka is in love with your friend, and Giulianic is willing to +give her to him, I am not the man to make any objections. The only +thing I'd like to know is whether it is solely for Milenko's sake +that you acted as you did." + +Uros tried to speak, but the words he would utter stuck in his +throat. + +"Then it is as I thought," added Bellacic, seeing his son's +confusion; "you love some one else." + +Uros looked up at his father for all reply. + +"Answer me," said Bellacic, tenderly. + +"Yes," said the young man, in a whisper. + +"A young girl?" + +"No." + +"A married woman?" asked the father, lifting his brows with a look of +pain in his eyes. + +"Yes." + +"A relation of ours?" + +"Yes." + +"Milena?" + +Uros nodded. + +Just then, as they turned the corner of the road, they met a crowd of +men coming towards them; it was a band of blood-stained Montenegrins +returning from an encounter with the Turks. They were bearing a +wounded man upon a stretcher. + +"Milena would have been the girl your mother and I might have chosen +for your bride; and, indeed, we have learnt to love her as a +daughter; but fate has decreed otherwise." + +They now came up to the foremost man of the band. + +"Who is wounded?" asked Bellacic of him. + +"Radonic," answered he. + +"Is the wound a bad one?" + +"He is dying!" replied the Montenegrin, in a whisper. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +THE VAMPIRE + + +Vranic, having found out that the Austrian law could do nothing for +him, except punish him for his crime in cutting down the vines of a +man who had done him no harm, shut himself up at home to nurse his +wounded head, to brood over his revenge, and pity himself for all the +mishaps that had befallen him. The more he pitied himself, the more +irritable he grew, and the more he considered himself a poor +persecuted wretch. He durst not go out for fear of being laughed at; +and, in fact, when he did go, the children in the streets began to +call him names, to ask him what he had done with his ears, and +whether he liked cutting people's vines down. + +With his bickering and peevish temper, not only his fast friends grew +weary of him, but his own family forsook him; his very brother, at +last, could not abide his saturnine humour, and left him. He then +began to drink to try and drown his troubles; still, he only took +enough to muddle his brains, and, moreover, the greater quantity of +spirits he consumed the more sullen he grew. + +Having but one idea in his head--that is, the great wrong that had +been done to him--he hardly fell asleep at nights but he was at once +haunted by fearful dreams. His murdered brother would at once appear +before him and ask him--urge him--to avenge his death: + +"While you are enjoying the inheritance I left you, I am groaning in +hell-fire, and my murderer is not only left free, but he is even +made much of." + +Masses were said for the dead man's soul, still that was of no avail; +Vranic's dreams got always more frightful. The _morina_, the dreadful +_mara_ or nightmare, took up its dwelling in the tailor's house. No +sooner did the poor man close his eyes than the ponderous ghost came +hovering over him, and at last crushed him with its weight. The sign +of the pentacle was drawn on every door and window. A witch drew it +for him on paper with magical ink, and he placed the paper under his +pillow. He put another on the sheets; then the nightmare left him +alone, and other evil spirits came in its stead. Not knowing the +names of these evil spirits or their nature, it was a difficult task +to find out the planet under which they were subjected, the sign +which they obeyed, and what charm was potent enough to scare them +away. + +One night (it was about the hour when his brother had been murdered) +the tailor was lying on his bed in a half-wakeful slumber--that is to +say, his drowsy body was benumbed, but his mind was still quite +awake, when all at once he was roused by the noise of a loud wind +blowing within the house. Outside, everything was perfectly quiet, +but inside a distant door seemed to have been opened down in some +cellar, and a draught was blowing up with a moaning, booming sound. +You might have fancied that a grave had been opened and a ghastly +gale was blowing from the hollow depths of hell below, and that it +came wheezing up. It was dreadful to hear, for it had such a dismal +sound. + +Perhaps it was only his imagination, but Vranic thought that this +mysterious draught was cold, damp and chilly; that it had an earthy, +rank smell of mildew as it blew by him. + +He lay there shivering, hardly daring to breathe, putting his tongue +between his chattering teeth not to make a noise, and listening to +that strange, weird blast as at last it died far away in a faint, +imperceptible sigh. + +No sooner had the sound of the wind entirely subsided than he heard a +cadenced noise of footsteps coming from afar. Were these steps out of +the house or inside? he could not tell. He heard them draw nearer and +ever nearer; they seemed to come across the wall of the room, as if +bricks and stones were no obstacle to his uncanny visitor; now they +were in his room, walking up to his bed. Appalled with terror, Vranic +looked towards the place from where the footsteps came, but he could +not see anybody. Trembling as if with a fit of palsy, he cast a +fearful, furtive glance all around, even in the furthermost corner of +the room; not the shadow of a ghost was to be seen; nevertheless, the +footsteps of the invisible person grew louder as they approached at a +slow, sure, inexorable pace. + +At last they stopped; they were by his bed. Vranic felt the breath of +a person on his very face. + +Except a person who has felt it, no one can realise the horror of +having an invisible being leaning over you, of feeling his breath on +your face. + +Vranic tried to rise, but he at once came in close contact with the +unseen monster; two cold, clammy, boneless hands gripped him and +pinned him down; he vainly struggled to get free, but he was as a +baby in the hands of his invisible foe. In a few seconds he was +entirely mastered, cowed down, overcome, panting, breathless. When he +tried to scream, a limp, nerveless hand, as soft as a huge toad, was +placed upon his mouth, shutting it up entirely, and impeding all +power of utterance. Then the ponderous mass of the ghost came upon +him, crushed him, smothered him. Fainting with fear, his strength and +his senses forsook him at the same time, and he swooned away. + +When he came back to life, the cold, grey light of the dawning day, +pouring in through the half-closed shutters, gave the room a squalid, +lurid look. His head was not exactly paining him, but it felt drained +of all its contents, and as light as an empty skull, or an old poppy +head in which the seeds are rattling. He looked around. There was +nothing unusual in the room; everything was just as it had been upon +the previous evening. Had his struggle with the ghost been but a +dream? He tried to move, to rise, but all his limbs were as weary and +sore as if he had really fought and been beaten. Nay, his whole body +was as weak as if he had had some long illness and was only now +convalescent. He recalled to mind all the details of the struggle, he +looked at the places where he felt numb and sore, and everywhere he +remarked livid stains which he had not seen before. He lifted himself +up on his right elbow; to his horror and consternation, there were +two or three spots of blood upon the white sheet. + +He felt faint and sick at that sight; he understood everything. His +had not been a dream; his gruesome visitor was a frightful ghost, a +terrible _vukodlaki_, which had fought with him and sucked his blood. +His brother had become a loathsome vampire; he was the first victim. + +For a moment he remained bewildered, unable to think; then when he +did manage to collect his wandering senses, the terrible reality of +his misfortune almost drove him mad again. + +The ghost, having tasted his blood, would not leave him till it had +drained him to the very last drop. He was a lost man; no medical aid +could be of any use; nourishing food, wine and tonics might prolong +his agony a few days longer and no more. He was doomed to a sure +death. Daily--as if in a decline--he saw himself wasting away, for +the vampire would suck the very marrow of his bones. + +His was a dreary life, indeed, and yet he clung to it with might and +main. The days passed on wearily, and he tried to hope against hope +itself; but he was so weak and dispirited that the slightest noise +made him shiver and grow pale. An unexpected footstep, the opening or +shutting of a door, slackened or accelerated the beating of his +heart. + +With fear and trembling he waited for night to come on, and when the +sun went down--when darkness came over the earth--his terror grew +apace. Still, where was he to go? He had not a single friend on the +surface of the earth. He, therefore, drank several glasses of +spirits, muttered his prayers and went to bed. No sooner had he +fallen asleep than he fell again a prey to the vampire. + +On the third night he determined not to go to bed, but to remain +awake, and thus wait for the arrival of his gruesome guest. Still, at +the last moment his courage failed him, so he went to an old man who +lived hard by. He promised to make him a new waistcoat if he would +only give him a rug to sleep on, and tell him a story until he got +drowsy. + +The old man complied willingly, above all as Vranic had brought a +_bukara_ of wine with him, so he at once began the story of + + +THE PRIEST AND HIS COOK. + +In the village of Steino there lived an old priest who was +exceedingly wealthy, but who was, withal, as miserly as he was rich. +Although he had fields which stretched farther than the eye could +reach, fat pastures, herds and flocks; although his cellars were +filled with mellow wine, his barns were bursting with the grace of +God; although abundance reigned in his house, still he was never +known to have given a crust of bread to a beggar or a glass of wine +to a weary old man. + +He lived all alone with a skinflint of an old cook, as stingy as +himself, who would rather by far have seen an apple rot than give it +to a hungry child whose mouth watered for it. + +Those two grim old fogeys, birds of one feather, cared for no one +else in this world except for each other, and, in fact, the people in +Steino said----, but people in villages have bad tongues, so it's +useless to repeat what was said about them. + +The priest had a nephew, a smith, a good-hearted, bright-eyed, burly +kind of a fellow, beloved by all the village, except by his uncle, +whom he had greatly displeased because he had married a bonny lass of +the neighbouring village of Smarje, instead of taking as a wife +the----, well, the cook's niece, though, between us and the wall, the +cook was never known to have had a sister or a brother either, and +the people----, but, as I said before, the people were apt to say +nasty things about their priest. + +The smith, who was quite a pauper, had several children, for the +poorer a man is the more babies his wife presents him with--women +everywhere are such unreasonable creatures--and whenever he applied +to his uncle for a trifle, the uncle would spout the Scriptures in +Latin, saying something about the unfitness of casting pearls before +pigs, and that he would rather see him hanged than help him. + +Once--it was in the middle of winter--the poor smith had been without +any work for days and days. He had spent his last penny; then the +baker would not give him any more bread on credit, and at last, on a +cold, frosty night, the poor children had been obliged to go to bed +supperless. + +The smith, who had sworn a few days before never again to put his +foot in the priest's house, was, in his despair, obliged to humble +himself, and go and beg for a loaf of bread, with which to satisfy +his children on the morrow. + +Before he knocked at the door, he went and peeped in through the +half-closed shutters, and he saw his uncle and the cook seated by a +roaring fire, with their feet on the fender, munching roasted +chestnuts and drinking mulled wine. Their shining lips still seemed +greasy from the fat sausages they had eaten for supper, and, as he +sniffed at the window, he fancied the air was redolent with the +spices of black-pudding. The smell made his mouth water and his +hungry stomach rumble. + +The poor man knocked at the door with a trembling hand; his legs +began to quake, he had not eaten the whole of that long day; but then +he thought of his hungry children, and knocked with a steadier hand. + +The priest, hearing the knock, thought it must be some pious +parishioner bringing him a fat pullet or perhaps a sleek sucking-pig, +the price of a mass to be said on the morrow; but when, instead, he +saw his nephew, looking as mean and as sheepish as people usually do +when they go a-begging, he was greatly disappointed. + +"What do you want, bothering here at this time of the night?" asked +the old priest, gruffly. + +"Uncle," said the poor man, dejectedly. + +"I suppose you've been drinking, as usual; you stink of spirits." + +"Spirits, in sooth! when I haven't a penny to bless me." + +"Oh, if it's only a blessing you want, here, take one and go!" + +And the priest lifted up his thumb and the two fingers, and uttered +something like "_Dominus vobiscum,_" and then waved him off; whilst +the old shrew skulking near him uttered a croaking kind of laugh, and +said that a priest's blessing was a priceless boon. + +"Yes," replied the smith, "upon a full stomach; but my children have +gone to bed supperless, and I haven't had a crust of bread the whole +of the day." + +"'Man shall not live by bread alone,' the Scriptures say, and you +ought to know that if you are a Christian, sir." + +"Eh? I daresay the Scriptures are right, for priests surely do not +live on bread alone; they fatten on plump pullets and crisp +pork-pies." + +"Do you mean to bully me, you unbelieving beggar?" + +"Bully you, uncle!" said the burly man, in a piteous tone; "only +think of my starving children." + +"He begrudges his uncle the grub he eats," shrieked the old cat of a +cook. + +"I'd have given you something, but the proud man should be punished," +said the wrathful priest, growing purple in the face. + +"Oh, uncle, my children!" sobbed the poor man. + +"What business has a man to have a brood of brats when he can't earn +enough to buy bread for them?" said the cook, aloud, to herself. + +"Will you hold your tongue, you cantankerous old cat?" said the smith +to the cook. + +The old vixen began to howl, and the priest, in his anger, cursed his +nephew, telling him that he and his children could starve for all he +cared. + +The smith thereupon went home, looking as piteous as a tailless +turkey-cock; and while his children slept and, perhaps, dreamt of +_kolaci_, he told his wife the failure he had met with. + +"Your uncle is a brute," said she. + +"He's a priest, and all priests are brutes, you know." + +"Well, I don't know about all of them, for I heard my +great-grandmother say that once upon a time there lived----" + +"Oh, there are casual exceptions to every rule!" said her husband. +"But, now, what's to be done?" + +"Listen," said the wife, who was a shrewd kind of woman; "we can't +let the children starve, can we?" + +"No, indeed!" + +"Then follow my advice. I know of a grass that, given to a horse, or +an ox, or a sheep, or a goat, makes the animal fall down, looking as +if it were dead." + +"Well, but you don't mean to feed the children with this grass, do +you?" said the smith, not seeing the drift of what she meant. + +"No; but you could secretly go and give some to your uncle's fattest +ox." + +"So," said the husband, scratching his head. + +"Once the animal falls down dead, he'll surely give it to you, as no +butcher 'll buy it; we'll kill it and thus be provided with meat for +a long time. Besides, you can sell the bones, the horns, the hide, +and get a little money besides." + +"And for to-morrow?" + +"I'll manage to borrow a few potatoes and a cup of milk." + +On the next day the wife went and got the grass, and the smith, +unseen, managed to go and give it to his uncle's fattest ox. A few +hours afterwards the animal was found dead. + +On hearing that his finest ox was found in the stable lying stiff and +stark the priest nearly had a fit; and his grief was still greater +when he found out that not a man in the village would offer him a +penny for it, so when his nephew came he was glad enough to give it +to him to get rid of it. + +The cook, who had prompted the priest to make a present of the ox to +his nephew, hoped that the smith and all his family would be poisoned +by feeding on carrion flesh. + +"But," said the uncle, "bring me back the bones, the horns, and the +hide." + +To everyone's surprise, and to the old cook's rage, the smith and his +children fed on the flesh of the dead ox, and throve on it. After the +ox had all been eaten up, the priest lost a goat, and then a goose, +in the same way, and the smith and his family ate them up with +evident gusto. + +After that, the old cook began to suspect foul play on the part of +the smith, and she spoke of her suspicions to her master. + +The priest got into a great rage, and wanted to go at once to the +police and accuse his nephew of sorcery. + +"No," said the cook, "we must catch them on the hip, and then we can +act." + +"But how are we to find them out?" + +After brooding over the matter for some days, the cook bethought +herself that the best plan would be to shut herself up in a cupboard, +and have it taken to the nephew's house. + +The priest, having approved of her plan, put it at once into +execution. + +"I have," said the uncle to the nephew, "an old cupboard which needs +repairing; will you take it into your house and keep it for a few +days?" + +"Willingly," said the nephew, who had not the slightest suspicion of +the trap laid to catch him. + +The cupboard was brought, and put in the only room the smith +possessed; the children looked at it with wonder, for they had never +seen such a big piece of furniture before. The wife had some +suspicion. Still, she kept her own counsel. + +Soon afterwards the remains of the goose were brought on the table, +and, as the children licked the bones, the husband and wife discussed +what meat they were to have for the forthcoming days--was it to be +pork, veal, or turkey? + +As they were engrossed with this interesting topic, a slight, shrill +sound came out of the cupboard. + +"What's that?" said the wife, whose ears were on the alert. + +"I didn't hear anything," said the smith. + +"_Apshee_," was the sound that came again from the cupboard. + +"There, did you hear?" asked the wife. + +"Yes; but from where did that unearthly sound come?" + +The wife, without speaking, winked at her husband and pointed to the +cupboard. + +"_Papshee_," was now heard louder than ever. + +The children stopped gnawing the goose's bones; they opened their +greasy mouths and their eyes to the utmost and looked scared. + +"There's some one shut in the cupboard," said the smith, jumping up, +and snatching up his tools. + +A moment afterwards the door flew open, and to everyone's surprise, +except the wife's, the old cook was found standing bolt upright in +the empty space and listening to what they were saying. + +The old woman, finding herself discovered, was about to scream, but +the smith caught her by the throat and gave her such a powerful +squeeze, that before knowing what he was doing, he had choked the +cook to death. + +The poor man was in despair, for he had never meant to commit a +murder--he only wanted to prevent the old shrew from screaming. + +"_Bog me ovari!_ what is to become of me now?" + +"Pooh!" said the wife, shrugging her shoulders; "she deserves her +fate; as we make our bed, so must we lie." + +"Yes," quoth the smith, "but if they find out that I've strangled +her, they'll hang me." + +"And who'll find you out?" said she. "Let's put a potato in her mouth +and lock up the cupboard again; they'll think that she choked herself +eating potatoes." + +The smith followed his wife's advice, and early on the morrow the +priest came again and asked for his press. + +"Talking the matter over with the cook," said he, "I've decided not +to have my cupboard repaired, so I've come to take it back." + +"Your cook is right," said the smith's wife; "she's a wise old woman, +your cook is." + +"Very," said the priest, uncomfortably. + +"There's more in her head than you suppose," said the wife, thinking +of the potato. + +"There is," said the priest. + +"Give my kind respects to your cook," said the wife as the men were +taking the cupboard away. + +"Thank you," said the priest, "I'll certainly do so." + +About an hour afterwards the priest came back, ghastly pale, to his +nephew, and taking him aside said: + +"My dear nephew--my only kith-and-kin--a great misfortune has +befallen me." + +"What is it, uncle?" asked the smith. + +"My cook," said the priest, lowering his voice, "has--eating +potatoes--somehow or other--I don't know how--choked herself." + +"Oh!" quoth the smith, turning pale, "it is a great misfortune; but +you'll say masses for her soul and have her properly buried." + +"But the fact is," interrupted the priest, "she looks so dreadful, +with her eyes starting out of their sockets, and her mouth wide open, +that I'm quite frightened of her, and besides, if the people see her +they'll say that I murdered her." + +"Well, and how am I to help you?" + +"Come and take her away, in a sack if you like; then bury her in some +hole, or throw her down a well. Do whatever you like, as long as I am +rid of her." + +The smith scratched his head. + +"You must help me; you are my only relation. You know that whatever I +have 'll go to you some day, so----" + +"And when people ask what has become of her?" + +"I'll say she's gone to her--her niece." + +"Well, I don't mind helping you, as long as I don't get into a scrape +myself." + +"No, no! How can you get into trouble?" + +The priest went off, and soon afterwards the smith went to his +uncle's house, and taking a big sack, shoved the cook into it and +tied the sack up, put it on his shoulders and trudged off. + +"Here," said the uncle, "take this florin to get a glass of wine on +the way, and I hope I'll never see her any more--nor," he added to +himself--"you either." + +It was a warm day, and the cook was heavy. The poor man was in a +great perspiration; his throat was parched; the road was dusty and +hilly. After an hour's march he stopped at a roadside inn to drink a +glass of wine. He quaffed it down at a gulp and then he had another, +and again another, so that when he came out everything was rather +hazy and blurred. Seeing some carts of hay at the door which were +going to the next town, he asked permission to get on top of one of +the waggons. The permission was not only granted, but the carter even +helped him to hoist his sack on top. The smith, in return, got down +and offered the man a glass of wine for his kindness. Then he again +got on the cart and went off to sleep. An hour or two afterwards, +when he awoke, the sack was gone. Had it slipped down? had it been +stolen from him?--he could not tell. He did not ask for it, but he +only congratulated himself at having so dexterously got rid of the +cook, and at once went back home. + +That evening his children had hardly been put to bed when the door +was opened, and his uncle, looking pale and scared, came in panting. + +"She's back, she's back!" he gasped. + +"Who is back?" asked the astonished smith. + +"Why, she, the cook." + +"Alive?" gasped the smith. + +"No, dead in the sack." + +"Then how the deuce did she get back?" + +"How? I ask you how?" + +"I really don't know how. I dug a hole ten feet deep, half filled the +hole with lime, then the other half with stones and earth, and I +planted a tree within the hole, and covered the earth all around with +sods. It gave me two days' work. I'll take and show you the place if +you like." + +The priest looked at his nephew, bewildered. + +"But, tell me," continued the smith, "how did she come back?" + +"Well, they brought me a waggon of hay, and on the waggon there was a +sack, which I thought must contain potatoes or turnips which some +parishioner sent me, so I had the sack put in the kitchen. When the +men had gone I undid the sack, and to my horror out pops the cook's +ugly head, staring at me with her jutting goggle-eyes and her gaping +mouth, looking like a horrid jack-in-the-box. Do come and take her +away, or she'll drive me out of my senses; but come at once." + +The smith went back to the priest's house, tied the cook in the sack, +and then putting the sack on his shoulders, he carried his load away. +He had made up his mind to go and chuck her down one of those almost +bottomless shafts which abound in the stony plains of the Karst. + +He walked all night; at daybreak he saw a man sleeping on the grass +by the highway, having near him a sack exactly like the one he was +carrying. + +"What a good joke it'll be," thought he, "to take that sack and put +mine in its stead." + +He at once stepped lightly on the grass, put down the cook, took up +the other sack, which was much lighter than his own, and scampered +back home as fast as his weary legs could carry him. + +An hour afterwards the sleeping man awoke, took up his sack, which he +was surprised to find so much heavier than it had been when he had +gone off to sleep, and then went on his way. + +That evening the priest came back to his nephew's house, looking +uglier and more ghastly, if possible, than the evening before. +Panting and gasping, with a weak and broken voice: + +"She's back again," he said in a hoarse whisper. + +The smith burst out laughing. + +"It's no laughing matter," quoth the priest, with a long face. + +"No, indeed, it isn't," replied the nephew; "only, tell me how she +came back." + +"A pedlar, an honest man whom I sometimes help by lending him a +trifle on his goods--merely out of charity--brought me a sack of +shoes, begging me to keep it for him till he found a stall for +to-morrow's fair. I told him to put the sack in the kitchen, and he +did so. When he had gone, I thought I'd just see what kind of shoes +he had for sale, and whether he had a pair that fitted me. I opened +the sack, and I almost fainted when I saw the frightful face of the +cook staring at me." + +"And now," asked the smith, "am I to carry her away again, for you +know, uncle, she is rather heavy; and besides----" + +"No," replied the priest; "I'll go away myself for a few days; during +that time drown her, burn or bury her; in fact, do what you like with +her, as long as you get rid of her. Perhaps, knowing I'm not at home, +she'll not come back. In the meanwhile, as you are my only relation, +come and live in my house and take care of my things as if they were +your own; and they'll be yours soon enough, for this affair has made +an old man of me." + +The priest went home, followed by his nephew. Arriving there, he went +to the stable, saddled the mare, got on her, gave his nephew his +blessing, bade him take care of his house, and trotted off. No sooner +had he gone than the smith saddled the stallion, then went and took +the cook out of the sack, tied her on the stallion's saddle, then let +the horse loose to follow the mare. + +The poor priest had not gone a mile before he heard a horse galloping +behind him, and, fearing that it was the police coming to bring him +back, he spurred the mare and galloped on; but the faster he rode, +the quicker the stallion galloped after him. + +Looking round, the priest, to his horror and dismay, saw his cook, +with her eyes starting wildly out of their sockets, and her horrid +mouth gaping as black as the hole of hell, chasing him, nay, she was +only a few yards behind. + +The terrified priest spurred on the mare, which began to gallop along +the highway; but withal she flew like an arrow, the stallion was +gaining ground at every step. The priest, fainting with fear, lost +all his presence of mind; he then spurred the mare across country. +The poor animal reared at first, and then began to gallop over the +stony plain; no obstacles could stop her, she jumped over bushes and +briars, stumbling almost at every step. + +The priest, palsied with terror, as ghastly pale as a ghost, could +not help turning round; alas! the cook was always at his heels. His +fear was such that he almost dropped from his horse. He lashed the +poor mare, forgetful of all the dangers the plains of the Karst +presented, for the ground yawned everywhere--here in huge, deep +clefts, there in bottomless shafts; or it sank in cup-like hollows, +all bordered with sharp, jagged rocks, or concealed in the bushes +that surround them. His only thought was to escape from the grim +spectre that pursued him. The lame and bleeding mare had stopped on +the brink of one of these precipices, trembling and convulsed with +terror. The priest, who had just turned round, dug his spurs into the +animal's sides; she tried to clear the cleft, but missed her footing, +and rolled down in the abyss. The stallion, seeing the mare +disappear, stopped short, and uttered a loud neigh, shivering with +fear. The shock the poor beast had got burst the bonds which held the +corpse on his back, and the cook was thus chucked over his head on +the prone edge of the pit. + +A few days afterwards some peasants who happened to pass by found the +cook sitting, stiff and stark, astride on a rock, seemingly staring, +with eyes starting from their sockets and her black mouth gaping +widely, at the mangled remains of her master's corpse. + +As the priest had told the clerk that he was going away for a few +days, everybody came to the conclusion that his cook, having followed +him against his will, had frightened the mare and thus caused her own +and her master's death. + +The smith having been left in possession of his uncle's house, as +well as of all his money and estates, and being, moreover, the only +legal heir, thus found himself all at once the richest man in the +village. As he was beloved by everybody, all rejoiced at his good +luck, especially all those who owed money to the priest and whose +debts he cancelled. + + +"You liked this story?" said the old man to Vranic, as soon as he had +finished. + +"Yes," replied the tailor, thinking of the ghastly, livid corpse, +with grinning, gaping mouth, and glassy, goggle eyes, galloping after +the priest, and wondering whether she was like the vampire. "Yes, +it's an interesting story, but rather gruesome." + +"Well, but it's only a story, and, whether ghastly or lively, it's +only words, which--as the proverb says--are evanescent as +soap-bubbles. Now," continued he, "if you want to go off to sleep, +look at this," and he gave him a bit of cardboard, on which were +traced several circles; "look at it till you see all these rings +wheeling round. When they disappear, you'll be asleep." + +The old man put the bit of cardboard before Vranic, who leaned his +elbows on the table and his head between the palms of his hands, and +stared at the drawing. Five minutes afterwards he was fast asleep. + +When he awoke the next morning, his head was not only aching, but his +weakness had so much increased that he had hardly strength enough to +stand on his feet. He, therefore, made up his mind to go to the +parish priest, and lay the whole matter before him. + +Priests are everywhere but fetich men; therefore, if they have burnt +witches for using charms and philters, it is simply because these +women trespassed on their own domains, and were more successful than +they themselves. Of what use would a priest be if he could not pray +for rain, give little _sacré coeur_ bits of flannel as talismans +against pestilence, or brass medals to scare away the devil? A priest +who can do nothing for us here below, must and will soon fall into +discredit. The hereafter is so vague and indefinite that it cannot +inspire us with half the interest the present does. + +The priest whom Vranic consulted was of the same opinion as the +tailor. He, too, believed that probably his brother had become a +vampire, who nightly left the tomb to go and suck his blood. For his +own sake, as well as for that of the whole town, it would be well to +exorcise the ghost. The matter, however, had to be kept a profound +secret, as the Government had put its veto on vampire-killing, and +looked upon all such practices as illegal. + +It was, therefore, agreed that Vranic, together with his relations +and some friends, should go to the curate's about ten o'clock at +night; there the curate would be waiting for them with another +priest; from there the little party would stealthily proceed to the +cemetery where the ceremony was to be held. + +The Friday fixed upon arrived. The night was dark, the weather +sultry; a storm had been brooding in the heavy clouds overhead and +was now ready to burst every moment. + +As soon as the muffled people got to the gate of the burying-ground +the mortuary chapel was opened to them by the sexton. The priests put +on their officiating robes, recited several orisons appropriate to +the occasion; then, with the Cross carried before them, bearing a +holy-water sprinkler in their hands, followed by Vranic and his +friends--all with blessed tapers--they went up to the murdered man's +tomb. The priest then bade the sexton dig up the earth and bring out +the coffin. + +The smell, as the pit was being dug lower down, became always more +offensive; but when, at last, the rotting deal coffin was drawn out +and opened, it became overpoweringly loathsome. The corpse, however, +being found in a good state of preservation, there could be no doubt +that the dead man was a vampire. It is true that the tapers which +everyone held gave but a dim and flickering light; moreover, that the +stench was so sickening that all turned at once their heads away in +disgust; still, they had all seen enough of the corpse to declare it +to be but seemingly dead. The priest, standing as far from it as he +possibly could, began at once to exorcise it in the name of the +Trinity, the Virgin and all the saints; to sprinkle it with holy +water, commanding it not to move, not to jump out of its box and run +away--for these ghouls are cunning devils, and if one is not on the +alert they skedaddle the moment the coffin is opened. Our priest, +however, was a match even for the dead man, and his holy-water +sprinkler was uplifted even before the lid of the loathsome chest was +loosened. + +The storm which had been threatening the whole of that day broke out +at last. No sooner had the sexton begun to dig the grave than the +wind, which had been moaning and wailing round the stones and wooden +crosses, began to howl with a sinister sound. Then, just as the +priest uttered the formula of the exorcism--when the coffin was +uncovered and the uncanny corpse was seen--a flash of lurid lightning +gleamed over its livid features, and the rumbling thunder ended in a +tremendous crash; the earth shook as if with the throes of +childbirth; hell seemed to yawn and yield forth its fulsome dead. As +the priest sprinkled the corpse with holy water, the rain came down +in torrents as if to drown the world. + +Although the noise was deafening, still some of the men affirm that +they heard the corpse lament and entreat not to be killed; but the +priest, a tall, stalwart man of great strength and courage, went on +perfectly undaunted, paying no heed to the vampire, mumbling his +prayers as if the man prostrate before him was some ordinary corpse +and this was a commonplace, every-day funeral. + +The priest, having reached in his orisons the moment when he uttered +the name of Isukrst, or God the Son, Josko Vranic, who stood by, +shivering from head to foot, and looking like a cat extracted from a +tub of soap-suds, drew out a dagger from under his coat, where it had +been carefully concealed from the ghost's sight, and stabbed the +corpse. It was, of course, a black steel stiletto, for only such a +weapon can kill a vampire. He should have stabbed the dead man in his +neck and through the throat, but he was so sick that he could hardly +stand; besides, his candle that instant went out, and, moreover, he +was terribly frightened, for although he was stabbing but a corpse, +still that corpse was his own brother. + +A flash of lightning which followed that instant of perfect darkness +showed him that the dagger, instead of being stuck in the dead man's +neck, was thrust in the right cheek. + +The ceremony being now over, the priests and their attendants +hastened back to the chapel to take shelter from the rage of the +storm, as well as to escape from the pestilential stench. + +The sexton alone remained outside to heap up the earth again on the +uncanny corpse, and shut up the grave. + +"Are you sure you stabbed the corpse in the neck, severing the +throat, and thus preventing it from ever sucking blood again?" asked +the priest. + +"Yes, I believe I have," answered Vranic, with a whining voice. + +"I don't ask you what you believe; have you done it--yes, or no?" +said the ecclesiastic, sternly. + +"Well, just as I lifted my knife to stab, the candle went out. I +couldn't see at all; the night was so dark; you all were far from me. +Besides, as I bent down, the smell made me so sick that----" + +"You don't know where you stabbed?" added the priest, angrily. + +"He stabbed him in the cheek!" said the sexton, coming in. + +"Fool!" burst out the priest, in a stentorian voice. + +"I was sure this would be the case," cried out one of the party. +"Vranic has always been a bungler of a tailor." + +"You have done a fine piece of work, you have, indeed, you wretch!" +hissed the priest, looking at Vranic scornfully. + +"You have endowed that cursed brother of yours with everlasting +life," said the other priest, "and now the whole town will be +infested with another vampire for ever!" + +"Do you really think so?" asked Vranic, ready to burst out crying. + +"Think so!" said all the other men, scornfully. "To bring us here in +the middle of the night with this storm, to stifle us with this +poisonous stench, and this is the result!" + +"But really----" stammered Vranic. + +"Anyhow, he'll not leave you till he has sucked the last drop of +blood from your body." + +The storm having somewhat abated, all the company wended their way +homewards, taking no notice of the tailor, who followed them like a +mangy cur which everyone avoids. + +That night, Vranic had not a wink of sleep. No one would have him in +his house; nobody would sleep with him, for fear of falling +afterwards a prey to the vampire. As soon as he lay down and tried to +shut his eyes, the terrifying sight appeared before him. The +festering ghost with the horrible gash in the cheek, just over the +jaw-bone, was ever present to his eyes; nor could he get rid of the +loathsome, sickening stench with which his clothes, nay, his very +body, seemed saturated. If a mouse stirred he fancied he could see +the ghost standing by him. He hid his head under the bed-cover not to +see, not to hear, until he was almost smothered, and every now and +then he felt a human hand laid on his head, on his shoulder, on his +legs, and his teeth chattered with fear. + +The storm ceased; still, the sky remained overcast, and a thin, +drizzling rain had succeeded the interrupted showers. The dreadful +night came to an end; he was happy to see the grey light of dawn +succeed the appalling darkness. Daylight brought with it happier +thoughts. + +"Perhaps," said he to himself, "my brother was no vampire, after all! +Perhaps the blade of the dagger, driven in the cheek, had penetrated +slantingly into the neck, severed the throat, and thus killed the +vampire; for something must have happened to keep the ghost away." + +On the next day Vranic remained shut up at home. He felt sure that +his own relations would henceforth hate him, and his acquaintances +would stone him if they possibly could. Nothing makes a man not only +unjust, but even cruel, like fear, and no fear is greater than the +vague dread of the unknown. That whole day he tried to work, but his +thoughts were always fixed either on the festering corpse he had +stabbed or on the coming night. + +Would the ghoul, reeking of hell, come and suck up his blood? + +As the light waned his very strength began to flow away, his legs +grew weak, his flesh shivered, the beating of his heart grew ever +more irregular. + +He lighted his little oil-lamp before it was quite dark, looked about +stealthily, trembling lest he should see the dreaded apparition +before its time, started and shuddered at the slightest noise. + +He was weary and worn out by the emotions of the former sleepless +night; still, he could not make up his mind to go to bed. He placed +his elbows on the board, buried his head within his hands, and +remained there brooding over his woes. Without daring to lift up his +eyes or look around, he at times stretched out his hand, clutched a +gourd full of spirits and took a sip. Time passed, the twilight had +faded away into soft, mellow darkness without; but in the tailor's +room the little flickering light only rendered the shadows grim and +gruesome. + +Drink and lassitude at last overpowered the poor man; his head began +to get drowsy, his ideas more confused; the heaviness of sleep +weighed him down. + +All at once he was roused from his lethargy by a sound of rushing +winds. He hardly noticed it when it blew from afar, like the slight +breeze that ruffles the surface of the sea; but, now that it came +nearer, he remembered having heard it some evenings before. He grew +pale, panted, and then his breath stopped, convulsed as he was by +fear. + +As upon the previous night, the wind was lost in the distance, and +then in the stillness of the night he heard the low, hushed sound of +footsteps coming from afar; but they drew nearer and ever nearer, +with a heavy, slow, metrical step. The night-walker was near his +house, at his door, on his threshold. The loathsome, sickening smell +of corruption grew stronger and stronger. Now it was as +overpoweringly nauseous as when he had bent down to stab his dead +brother. The sound of footsteps was now within his room; the spectre +must surely be by his side. He kept his eyes tightly shut and his +head bent down. A cold perspiration was trickling from his forehead +and through his fingers on to the table. + +All at once, something heavy and metallic was thrown in front of him. +Although his eyes were tightly shut, he knew that it was the black +dagger that his brother had come to bring him back, and he was not +mistaken. + +Was there a chuckle just then? + +Almost against his will he opened his eyes, lifted his head, and +looked at his guest. The vampire was standing by his side grinning at +him hideously, notwithstanding the gash in his right cheek. + +"Thank you, brother," said he, in a hollow, mocking voice, "for what +you did yesterday; you have, in fact, given me everlasting life; and, +as one good turn deserves another, you soon will be a vampire along +with me. Come, don't look so scared, man; it's a pleasant life, after +all. We sleep soundly during the day, and, believe me, no bed is so +comfortable as the coffin, no house so quiet as the grave; but at +night, when all the world sleeps and only witches are awake, then we +not only live, but we enjoy life. No cankering care, no worry about +the morrow. We have only fun and frolic, for we suck, we suck, we +suck." + +Vranic heard the sound of smacking lips just by his neck, the vampire +had already laid his hands upon him. + +He tried to rise, to struggle, but his strength and his senses +forsook him; he uttered a choked, raucous sound, then his breath +again stopped spasmodically, his face grew livid, he gasped for +breath, his face and lips got to be of a violet hue, his eyes shut +themselves, as he dropped fainting in his chair. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +THE FACE IN THE MIRROR + + +A few days after Radonic had been brought back dying, Uros was +walking down the mountain path leading from the heights of Montenegro +to the Dalmatian coast. He was even in higher spirits than he was +usually wont to be. + +His father had accompanied him to the frontier, and on the way he had +opened his heart to him, and told him of his love for Milena, and +even obtained his consent for his marriage, which might take place as +soon as her widowhood was over. Bellacic, moreover, had promised to +write to his friend, Giulianic, to release him from his pledge. + +The day, as it dawned now, was a glorious one, bright, clear and +fresh. After the storm and rain of the day before, the dark crags of +the Cernagora seemed but newly created, or only just arisen out of +the glittering waters that stretched down below in a translucent, +misty mass of sluggish streams flowing through a cloudy ocean. + +The breeze that blew from the mountain-tops seemed to him like some +exhilarating, life-giving fluid. Exercise--not prolonged as yet +--rendered his senses of enjoyment keener; he felt happy with himself +and with the world at large. He was in one of those rare moods in +which a man would like the earth to be a human being, so as to clasp +it fondly to his breast, as he does a child, or the woman he loves. + +Although he did not rejoice at Radonic's death, still, as he loved +Milena, it was natural that he was glad the obstacle to his happiness +had been removed, and a wave of joy seemed to rise from his heart +upwards as his nerves tingled with excitement at the thought that in +a few months she might be his wife. + +Therefore, with his blithe and merry character, ever prone to look on +the bright side of life, it is easy to imagine his buoyancy of +spirits as he walked down to Budua. Every step was bringing him +nearer her; before the sun had reached its zenith he would be at +home, clasping her in his arms; she--Milena--would be his for ever, +and he crossed his arms and hugged himself in his excited state of +mind. + +Then he began to imagine Milenko's delight when he would hear that +he, too, could marry the girl he loved. + +It is not to be wondered at that he thought the earth a good +dwelling-place, and that life--taking it on the whole--was not only +worth living, but very pleasant besides. It is true, he said to +himself, that man sometimes mars the work of God with his passions; +still, _karvarinas_ were the clouds of life, enhancing the beauty of +the bright days which followed sudden showers. Sullen and malicious +men like Vranic and his brood were buzzing insects, more tedious than +harmful to their fellow-creatures. + +Such were the thoughts that flitted through his mind as he walked +briskly along, singing as blithely as a lark. As he had, the day +before, sent word to Milenko that he would be back on the morrow, he +stopped at every turn of the road, and, shading his eyes with his +hand, he looked down the road, hoping to see his friend's graceful +figure coming to meet him, as was sure to be the case. + +He had never been separated from Milenko for so many days, and now +that he was about to see him, his longing seemed to increase at every +step. + +As for Milenko, being of a more sensitive character, and having +remained on board, he had missed his friend even more keenly than +Uros had done. He would have started to meet him at early dawn, but +he had been obliged to remain behind and look after the ship's cargo, +that had been delayed the evening before on account of some trifling +incident--for, sometimes, things of no importance in themselves lead +to the most dreadful calamities. Likewise, the string of one of +Milenko's shoes broke, so he stopped to tie it; after some steps it +broke again. He stopped once more, pulled off his shoe, unlaced it, +tied the string as well as he could. After a quarter of an hour the +string of the other shoe broke too; he had again to stop and mend it. +More than five minutes was thus lost; besides, the loose strings not +only made him linger, but even slacken his pace. + +Uros went down singing snatches of some merry song, little thinking +that the delay in meeting his friend would almost cost him his life. + +The news of Radonic's death had soon been spread about Budua, and he, +who had never been a favourite during his lifetime, became a hero +after death. The Samson-like way in which he had fought was extolled, +the number of wounds he had received, the hundreds of Turks he had +killed went on daily increasing. His dauntless courage, his bold +feats, his cunningness in council were becoming legendary; in fact, +he was for some time a second Marko Kraglievic. The Vranite party +--especially after the night of the burying-ground affair--had +dwindled into nothing. The Radonites ruled the day. + +Earless Vranic, as he was called everywhere, was galled by his +defeat; his envious, jealous disposition could find no rest. Being, +moreover, doomed to a certain death, he found himself like a stag at +bay, and he almost felt at times the courage of despair. + +The radiant day which followed the dreadful night when the vampire +appeared to him brought no change to Vranic's gloom. He was too much +like a night-bird now to feel any pleasure at the sight of the sunlit +sky. Like an owl he shunned the light, and only prowled about when +every man had shut himself up in his house. He dreaded the sight of a +human face on account of the scowl of hatred he was sure to see +there, for he knew that everyone looked upon him not as a man, but as +the bloodsucker he would soon become. + +Having recovered from his fainting-fit after the visit of the +_voukoudlak_, he almost lost his senses again, seeing the black +dagger on the table in front of him. With a fluttering heart, and +aching head and tottering limbs, he walked about his room, asking +himself what he should do and how he could escape the wretchedness of +his present life. Suicide never came into his head, for, in spite of +all his misery, life still was dear to him. The best thing would, +perhaps, be to leave Budua for a short time, and thus frustrate the +vampire. + +As he had to go and pay the priest for the ceremony of the exorcism, +he decided to ask, and perhaps take, his advice upon what he was to +do and where he should go. He went grudgingly, indeed, to pay a large +sum of money for a ceremony which had been of no avail, and although +it had not been the priest's fault if the ghost had not been killed, +still the money was being thrown away, for all that. + +Before leaving the house, he took the black dagger, washed and +scrubbed it with fine sand to cleanse it from the offensive smell it +had, then he put it in his breast pocket, where he had had it some +nights before. With heavy steps he trudged towards the priest's house +at dawn, before the people of the town were up and about the streets. +The priest, who was an early riser, had just got up. Vranic, with +unwilling hands, undid the strings of his purse, and counted out, +with many a sigh, the sum agreed upon, for the priest would not bate +a single cent. Then Vranic, with his eyes gloating on the silver +dollars, told the clergyman how the vampire had appeared to him and +overcome him. + +"Aye," said the priest, "I was afraid that would be the case." + +"And now I'd like to leave the town, for I might thus avoid the +vampire." + +"The best thing you could do." + +"Yes, but where am I to go in order to escape the ghost?" + +"I think the best place for you is the Convent of St. George. Surely +the spectre 'll not follow you there in those hallowed walls, amongst +all those saintly men." + +"Yes, but will the brotherhood receive me?" + +"Tell them that I sent you. Moreover, I'll call myself during the day +and speak to them. May I add that, perhaps, you'll be induced to turn +caloyer yourself some day or other. Meanwhile, a little charity to +the convent would render your stay more agreeable. You know the +brotherhood is poor." + +Vranic thanked the priest, and promised to be guided by his advice; +still, he could not help thinking of all the money this new scheme +might cost him. It is true, if he turned friar, he might get rid of +the vampire, but would he not also lose all his money into the +bargain? + +Which was the greater evil of the two--to be sucked of all his blood, +or drained of all his money? + +Out of the town gate, far from the haunts and scowling faces of men, +he breathed a little more at ease. Were they not all a set of +grasping, covetous ghouls, whose only aim was to wrench all he had +from him? The dazzling sunshine and the dancing waves, far from +soothing him, only irritated him, for he fancied that all the world +was blithe, merry and happy, and he alone was miserable. He thought +how happy he, too, might have been had that cursed _karvarina_ not +taken place. He had never felt any deep hatred against Radonic, nor +had he any real reason for disliking him; for, to be true to himself, +his brother's murder had been an incident, not an accident, in his +life. It was not Radonic's fault if the ghost-seer had become a +vampire after his death. All his grudge was rather against Bellacic, +who had helped to frustrate him of a good round sum of money, owed to +him for his brother's blood. He hated him especially for having +inflicted a bodily and moral wound by cutting off his ear, rendering +him thus an object of everlasting scorn in the whole town. + +Radonic was dead, but Bellacic lived to triumph over him. If he could +only wreak his vengeance upon him he might pacify the vampire's rage; +if not, he could always make his escape into the convent. With these +thoughts in his head, he clutched the handle of the dagger and, as he +did so, he shivered from head to foot with a kind of hellish delight. + +Just then he fancied he heard a distant chuckle and looked round. He +could see nobody. It was only his imagination. Almost at the same +time he heard a voice whisper softly in his ear: + +"Use this dagger against my enemies better than you did against me, +and then, perhaps, you might be free." + +Was it his brother ordering him what he was to do? Instead of +stopping at the convent, should he go on to Montenegro, waylay +Bellacic and murder him? + +He had been walking, or rather, crawling quietly on, for about two +hours; the sun was high up in the sky, the day was hot, the road +dusty, and, worn out by sleeplessness, by worry and, above all, by +the great loss of blood, he was now overcome by weariness and +weakness. The monastery was at last in sight; still, he felt as if he +could hardly crawl any further on; so, undecided as he was, he sat +down at the side of some laurel-bushes to rest and make up his mind +as to what he was to do. + +He had not been sitting there a quarter of an hour, blinking at the +sun, like an owl, when he heard snatches of an unknown song, wafted +from afar. It was not one of the plaintive lays of his own country, +but a lively, blithe Italian canzonet, with trills that sounded like +the merry warbling of a lark. The singing stopped--it began again, +then stopped once more; after that he heard a light, brisk step +coming towards him. A man who could sing and walk in such a way must +surely be happy, he thought. Then, without knowing who the man was, +he hated him for being happy. Why should some people have all the +sweetness, and others all the gall of life? he asked himself. Is not +this world a fool's paradise for him and a dungeon for me? In my +wretchedness he seems to taunt me with his mirth. Well, if ever I +become a vampire, the first blood I'll suck is that man's; and I'll +drain the very last drop, for it must be warm and sweet. + +Just then the light-hearted singer passed by the laurel-bushes, +without perceiving the owl-like man half hidden behind them. Vranic, +lifting up his head, saw the flushed face, the sparkling eyes, the +red and parted lips of his enemy's son--the youth who, by his beauty +and his criminal love, had been the cause of all the mischief. Had it +not been for him, his brother would probably not have been murdered, +and, what was far worse, become a _voukoudlak_. Instinctively he +clasped the handle of his dagger, and the words he had heard a little +while before rang once more in his ears, urging him to make good use +of the knife now that an opportunity offered itself. Besides, would +not his revenge be a far keener one in killing this young man, his +father's only son, than in murdering Bellacic himself? This was real +_karvarina_, and his lost ear would be dearly paid for. + +Uplifted by a strength which was not his own, urged on almost +unconsciously, Vranic jumped up and ran after the merry youth. + +Uros just at that moment had perceived Milenko at a distance, and, +hurrying down to meet him, he, in his joy, had not heard the fiend +spring like a tiger from behind the bush and rush at him with +uplifted knife. + +Milenko, seeing Vranic appear all at once, with a dagger in his hand, +stopped, uplifted both his hands, and uttered a loud cry of terror, +threat and anger. + +Uros, for an instant, could not understand what was happening; but +hearing someone running after him, and already close to his heels, he +turned round, and to his horror he saw Josko Vranic scowling at him. +The face, with its blinking eyes and all its nerves twitching +frightfully, had a fierce and fiendish expression--it was, in fact, +just as he had seen it in the glass on New Year's Eve, at the fatal +stroke of twelve. + +A moment of overpowering superstitious terror came over Uros; he knew +that his last hour had arrived. In his distracted state, Uros had +only time to lift up his arm in an attitude of self-defence, but +Vranic was already upon him, plunging the sharp-pointed blade in his +breast. The youth uttered a low, muffled groan, staggered, put his +hands instinctively to the deep gash, as if to stop the blood from +all rushing out; then he fell senseless on the ground. + +Vranic plucked the poniard out of the wound mechanically; his arm +fell heavily of its own weight. Then, struck with a sudden terror, +not because he saw Milenko rushing up, but because he was bewildered +at what he had so rashly done, he, after standing quite still for a +moment, turned round and fled. + +Milenko had already rushed to his friend's side; he was clasping him +in his arms, lifting him up with the tender fondness of a mother +nursing a sickly babe. Alas! all his loving care seemed vain; the +point of the dagger must have entered within his heart, and death had +been instantaneous. + +Milenko did not lose his presence of mind for an instant; nor did he +try to run after the murderer. He took off his broad sash which he +wore as a belt, tore up his shirt, rolled a smooth stone in the rag, +and with this pad (to stop up the blood) he bandaged up the wound as +tightly as he possibly could. Then he took up his friend in his arms, +and although Uros was a heavier weight than himself, still his life +of a sailor had strengthened his muscles to such a degree that he +carried his burden, if not with ease, at least, not with too great +difficulty, down to the neighbouring convent. + +It was well known in town that some of the holy men were versed in +medicine, and especially that the secret of composing salves, and the +knowledge of simples with which to heal deadly wounds, was +transmitted by one friar on his death-bed to another. Still, when +Milenko had laid down his friend upon a bed, the wisest of these wise +men shook their heads gravely and declared the case to be a desperate +one. The head surgeon said that, if life were not already extinct--as +Milenko had believed--still the youth's recovery could only be +brought about by a miracle, for he was already beyond all human help. + +Milenko felt his legs giving way. A cold, damp draught seemed to blow +on his face. + +"He might," continued the old man, "last some hours; he might even +linger on for some days." + +"Anyhow," added another caloyer, "we have time to administer the Holy +Sacrament and prepare him for heaven." + +"Oh, yes! there is time for that," quoth the doctor, shrugging his +shoulders; "but, before the wine and bread, I'll prepare the +cathartic water with which to wash the wound, for while there is life +a doctor must not give up hope." + +"Then," said Milenko, falteringly, "I can leave him to your care, and +run and fetch his mother; he'll not pass away till my return?" + +"Not if you make every possible haste." + +"You promise?" + +"He is in God's hands, my son." + +With a heavy heart, and with the tears ever trickling down his +cheeks, Milenko ran down the mountain, and all the way from the +convent to the gates of Budua. He stopped to take breath before +Bellacic's house, and then he went in, and, composing his face as +well as he could, he gently broke the terrible news to the forlorn +mother. + +Mara was a most courageous woman. Far from fainting and requiring all +attendance upon herself, she bethought herself at once of the +difficulty in the way, for she knew that no women were admitted into +a convent of monks. One person alone might help her. This was her +uncle, a priest of high degree, and a most important personage in the +town. + +She hastened to his house, and, having explained matters to him, she +implored him to start at once with her for the Convent of St. George +and obtain for her the permission she required. The good man, +although he hated walking, was not only very fond of his niece, but +loved Uros as his own son, so he acceded at once to her request and +set out with her, notwithstanding that it was nearly dinner-time, and +not exactly an hour suited for a long up-hill walk. Milenko, having +broken the news to Mara, hastened to his own house to inform his +parents of the great misfortune. His father, snatching up a loaf of +bread and a gourd of wine, started at once with him. He would go as +far as the convent, enquire there how Uros was getting on, and then +hasten on to Montenegro and inform Bellacic of what had taken place. +When they all got to the convent they found that Uros was still alive +and always unconscious. + +Just when Milenko had got back to the convent he remembered that, in +his hurry to go and return, he had forgotten one person, dearer to +his friend, perhaps, even than father or mother; that person was +Milena. + +When the news of Radonic's death reached Budua, Milena made up her +mind to return to her father's house. Still, she was rather weak to +undertake the journey, and, moreover, she would not go there until +Uros had come back. + +On the morning on which Uros was expected she had gone to her own +house, to put things in order previous to her departure, and Mara had +promised to come and see her that afternoon, and take her home with +her. + +Time passed; Milena was sitting in her house alone, waiting for her +friend. At every step she heard outside, her heart would begin to +beat faster, and with unsteady steps she would go to the window, +hoping to see Uros and his mother; but she was always disappointed. +Her sufferings had told their tale upon her thin pale face, which, +though it had lost all its freshness, had acquired a new and more +ethereal kind of beauty. Her large and lustrous eyes--staring at +vacancy--seemed to be gazing at some woful, soul-absorbing vision. +The whole of that day she had been a prey to the most gloomy +forebodings. + +All at once a little urchin of about four or five summers stood on +the doorstep. + +"_Gospa_ Milena," lisped the little child, "I've come to see you." + +It had been a daring deed to wander all the way from home by +himself, and he was rather frightened. + +This child was the son of one of Mara's neighbours, whom Milena had +of late made a pet of, and whom she had sometimes taken along with +her when coming to her house. + +Milena turned round and looked at the little child, that might well +have been taken for an angel just alighted from heaven, for the +slanting rays of the setting sun shining through his fair, +dishevelled, curly locks seemed to form a kind of halo round his +little head. + +"Have you come all the way from home to see me?" + +"Yes," said the child, staring at her to see whether she was cross. +"I've come for you to tell me a story." + +Milena caught up the boy and covered him with kisses. She was about +to ask him if he knew whether Uros had returned, but the question +lingered for an instant on her lips; then she blushed, and feared to +frame her thoughts in words. Anyhow, it was a very good excuse to +shut up her house and take the little boy back home. + +"Will you tell me a story?" persisted the urchin. + +"Yes," said Milena, smiling, "for you must be tired and hungry, too." + +She went into the orchard behind the house, and presently came back +with a huge peach, which made the child's eyes glisten with pleasure. + +"Now, come and sit down here, and when you've finished your peach +I'll take you home." + +Thereupon she sat down on her favourite seat, the doorstep, and the +child nestled by her side. + +"What story shall I tell you?" + +"One you've already told me," replied the boy, for, like almost all +children, he liked best the stories he already knew. + +Milena then began the oft-repeated tale of + + +THE MAN WHO SERVED THE DEVIL. + +"Once a farmer's only son married a very young girl----" + +"How old was she?" interrupted the child. + +"She was sixteen." + +"Last time you told me she was fifteen." + +"So she was, but that was a year ago. They had a very grand wedding, +to which all the people of the village were invited----" + +"Not the village, the town," said the child. + +"You are right," added Milena, correcting herself. + +"For eight days they danced the _Kolo_ every night, and had grand +dinners and suppers." + +"What had they for dinner?" + +"They had roast lambs, _castradina_, chickens, geese----" + +"And also sausages?" + +"Yes; and ever so many other good things." + +"But what had they for supper?" + +"They had huge loaves of milk-bread and cakes with raisins----" + +"Had they also peaches?" asked the boy, with his mouth full, whilst +the juice of his own luscious peach was trickling down his chin. + +"Yes; they had also grapes, melons and pomegranates; so when every +guest had eaten till he could hardly stand, all squatted on the floor +and sucked sticks of sugar-candy. When the eight days' feasting was +over, the bridegroom weighed himself and, to his dismay, found that +he was eight pounds lighter than on the eve of his marriage." + +"Why?" asked the child, with widely-opened eyes. + +"Because," answered Milena, with a slight smile and the faintest of +blushes, "because, I suppose, he had danced too much." + +"But if he ate till he couldn't stand?" + +"Anyhow," continued Milena, "he was so frightened when he saw how +much he had lost in weight that he made up his mind to run away and +leave his wife at home." + +"But why?" quoth the urchin. + +"Because he thought that if he kept getting thin at that rate, +nothing would soon be left of him. He, therefore, made a bundle of +his clothes and went off in the middle of the night. He walked and +walked, and after a few days, at early dawn, he got to a bleak and +desolate country, where there was nothing but huge rocks, sharp +flints, and sandy tracts of ground. Far off he saw a large castle, +with high stone walls and big iron gates. Being very tired and not +seeing either a tree or a bush as far as eye could reach, he went +and knocked at one of the gates. An elderly gentleman, dressed in +black, came to open, and asked him what he wanted. + +"'I come,' said the bridegroom, 'to see if you are, perhaps, in want +of a serving-man.' + +"'You come in the nick of time,' said the old man, grinning. 'I'll +take you as my cook; you'll not have much to do.' + +"'But,' answered the young man, 'I'm not very clever as a cook.' + +"'It doesn't matter; you'll only have to keep a pot boiling and be +ever stirring what's in it.' + +"He then led the young man into a kind of underground kitchen, where +there was an immense pot hanging on a hook, and underneath a roaring +fire was burning. Then the old gentleman gave the youth a ladle as +big as a shovel, and bade him stir continually, and every now and +then add more fuel to the fire. + +"The youth stirred on and on for twenty-five years, and then he grew +tired and stopped for a while. When he was about to begin again he +heard a voice coming out of the cauldron, which said: + +"'You've been mixing us up for a good long while; couldn't you let us +have a little rest?' + +"The cook--who was no more a youth, but an elderly man--got +frightened. He left the kitchen and went to find his master. + +"'Well,' said the elderly gentleman, who was not a day older than he +had been twenty-five years before, 'what is it you want?' + +"'I'm rather tired of always stirring that pot, and I'd like to go +home.' + +"'Quite right,' replied the master. 'I suppose you want your wages?' + +"He then went to an iron box and took out two big sacks of gold +coins. + +"'You have served me faithfully, and I'll pay you accordingly. This +money is yours.' + +"The man took the money and thanked his master. + +"'I'll give you, moreover, some advice, which is, perhaps, worth more +than the money itself. Listen to my words, and remember them. Upon +leaving me, always take the high road; on no account go through lanes +and byways. Never put up for the night at little hostelries, but +always stop at the largest inns. Whenever you are about to commit +some rash act, defer your purpose till the morrow. Lastly, when +people speak badly of the devil, tell them that he is less black than +he is painted.' + +"The man thanked his master and went off. He walked for some time on +the highway, and then he met another traveller, who was walking in +the same direction. After a few hours they came to a crossway. + +"'Let us take this path, for we'll get to the next town two hours +sooner,' said the traveller. + +"The devil's cook was about to follow the stranger's advice, when he +heard his master's words ringing in his ears: 'Always take the high +road, and on no account go through lanes and byways.' + +"He, therefore, told his fellow-traveller how he had pledged his word +to his master to follow his advice. As neither could persuade the +other, they parted company, promising each other to meet again at +nightfall, at the neighbouring town. + +"As soon as the devil's cook reached the inn where he was to spend +the night, he asked for his new friend, and, on the morrow, he was +grieved to hear that a wayfarer, answering to the traveller's +description, had been murdered the day before, when crossing the +lonely byway leading to the town. + +"The devil's cook set out once more on his way, and he was soon +overtaken by a party of merry pedlars, all journeying towards his +native town, where, a few days afterwards, there was to be a fair +held in honour of a patron saint. He made friends with all of them, +especially as he bought silk kerchiefs, dresses and trinkets, as +presents for his wife. They trudged along the high road, avoiding all +short cuts, lanes and byways. In the evening they came to a large +village, where they were to pass the night. + +"'Let us stop here,' said one of the party, pointing to a tavern by +the roadside; 'I know the landlord; the cooking is very good, nowhere +can you get a better glass of wine; and besides, it is much cheaper +than at the large inn farther down.' + +"The devil's cook was already on the threshold, when he again +remembered his master's words: + +"'Never put up at little hostelries, but always stop at the larger +inns.' + +"He, therefore, parted from his company, and went off by himself to +the next inn. + +"He had his supper by himself, and then, being very tired, he went +off to bed. In the middle of the night he was awakened by a very loud +noise and a great bustle. He got out of bed, and, going to the +window, he saw the sky all red, and the village seemed to be in +flames. He went downstairs, and he was told that the little tavern by +the roadside was burning. It appears that the travellers who had +stopped there had all got drunk. Somehow or other they had set fire +to the house, and, in their sleep, had all got burnt. + +"The devil's cook was again grateful to his master for his good +advice, and on the morrow he once more set out on his way alone. + +"In the evening he at last reached his native town. He was surprised +at the many changes that had taken place since he had left it +twenty-five years before. On the square, just in front of his own +house, a large inn had been built; therefore, instead of going at +once to his wife's, he went to pass the night at the inn, and see +what was taking place at home. + +"From the windows of the inn he saw all his house illuminated, and +people coming in and going out as if some wedding or other grand +feast were taking place. Then, in one of the rooms of the first floor +he saw his wife--now a buxom matron--together with two handsome +youths in priest's attire. To his horror and dismay, he saw her +hugging and fondling the young men, who were covering her with +kisses. At this sight he got into such a rage that he took out his +pistol." + +"No," said the child, interrupting, "he took up his gun, which was in +a corner of the room." + +"Quite right," answered Milena; "he took up his gun, aimed at his +wife, and was about to shoot, when he fancied he heard his master's +voice saying: + +"'Whenever you are about to commit some rash act, put off your +purpose till the morrow.' + +"He, therefore, thought he would postpone his revenge till the next +day, and he went downstairs to have his supper. + +"'Who lives opposite,' he asked of the landlord, 'in that house where +they seem to be having such grand doings?' + +"'A very virtuous woman,' quoth the host, 'whose husband disappeared +in a strange, mysterious way on the eighth day of the wedding feast, +and has never been heard of since.' + +"'And she never married again?' + +"'No, of course not.' + +"'But who are those two handsome priests that are with her?' + +"'Those are her two boys, twins born shortly after the marriage. The +house is illuminated as to-morrow the two young men are to be +consecrated priests, and their mother is giving a feast in their +honour.' + +"On the morrow the husband went home, made himself known, presented +each of his two sons with a sack of gold coins, gave his wife all the +beautiful presents he had bought for her; then he went to church and +assisted at the ceremony of the consecration. After that he gave all +his old friends a splendid feast, which lasted eight days; and he +told them how, for twenty-five years, he had served the devil, who +was by no means as black as he is painted." + +"I wonder," said the child, "if he got thin again after the feast." + +"I don't know," replied Milena, "for the story stops there." + +"No, it doesn't, for my papa said that many people tried to go and +offer themselves as cooks to the devil, but that they had never been +heard of since then." + +"And now I'll take you home. Perhaps we'll meet _gospa_ Mara on our +way." + +"No, we'll not meet her," said the child, abruptly. + +"Why? Because Uros has come home?" + +"But Uros hasn't come home." + +"How do you know?" + +"I know, because _Capitan_ Milenko came this morning and told _gospa_ +Mara that Josko Vranic had killed Uros, and so she went off at once +to the Convent of St. George, where----" + +Milena heard no more. A deadly faintness came over her; she loosened +the grasp of the door she had clutched, her legs sank under her, and +she fell lifeless on the ground. + +The urchin looked at her astonished. He, for a moment, gave up +sucking his peach-stone; then he turned on his heels and scampered +home to inform his mother about what had happened. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + +THE CONVENT OF ST. GEORGE + + +When Mara reached the convent, it was with the greatest difficulty, +and only through the persuasive influence of her uncle, Danko +Kvekvic, that she was allowed to see her son. Uros, moreover, had to +be transported from the cell into which he had been carried, into a +room near the church--a sort of border-land between the sanctuary and +the convent. Even there she was only allowed to remain till +nightfall. + +"Tell me," said Mara, to the ministering monk (a man more than six +feet in height, and who, in his black robes, seemed a real giant), +"tell me, do you think he might pass away during the night while I am +not with him?" + +"No, I don't think so. He is young and strong; he is one of our +sturdy race--a Iugo Slav, not a Greek, or an effete Turk eaten away +by vice and debauchery. He'll linger on." + +"Still, there is no hope?" + +"Who can tell? I never said there was none. For me, as long as there +is a faint spark of life, there is always hope." + +"Still, you have administered the sacrament to him?" + +"You wouldn't have him die like a dog, would you?" answered the +priest, combing out his long white beard with his fingers. + +"No, certainly not." + +"Besides, we all take the sacrament when we are in bodily health. +Your son came to himself for a few moments, and we seized the +opportunity to administer to him the Holy Communion and pray with +him; it does no harm to the body, whilst it sets the troubled mind at +ease." + +Danko Kvekvic, Mara and Milenko crossed themselves devoutly. + +"It cannot be denied," continued the monk, "that our patient lies +there with both his feet in the grave. Still, God is omnipotent. I +have seen many a brave man fall on the battlefield----" + +"You have been in war?" asked Milenko, astonished. + +"Bearing the Cross and tending the wounded." + +"Still, it is said that at times you wielded the gun with remarkable +dexterity," interrupted Danko Kvekvic, with a keen smile. + +"Do people say so? Well, what if they do? I am sure no harm is meant +by it; for, if my memory does not deceive me, the very same thing was +said about a priest who is no monk of our order, Danko Kvekvic, and +who, for all that, is said to be a holy man." + +"Well, well, we all try to serve our God and our country as well as +we can; and no doubt we have done our best to save our flag from +being trampled in the dust, or a fellow-countryman's life when in +danger. But I interrupted you; tell me what you have seen on the +battlefield." + +"Nothing, except blood spilt; but I was going to say that I've seen +many a man linger within the jaws of death for days together, and +then be snatched from danger when his state became desperate." + +"By your skill, father," said Mara, "for we are all aware that you +know the secrets of plants, and that you have effected wonderful +cures by means of simples." + +"Aye, aye! perhaps I have been more successful than the learned +doctors of Dunaj" (Vienna) "or Benetke" (Venice); "still, shall I +tell you the secret of my cures?" + +Mara opened her eyes in wonder. "I thought it was only a death-bed +secret transmitted from one dying monk to his successor," said she. + +"We are not wizards," said the old man, with a pleasant smile; "we +make no mystery of the herbs we seek on the mountains, and even the +youngest lay-brother is taught to concoct an elixir or make a salve +for wounds." + +"But the secret you spoke of?" said Mara. + +"It is the pure life-giving air of our mountains, the sobriety of our +life, our healthy work in the open fields or on the wide sea. Our +sons have in their veins their mothers' blood, for every Serb or +Montenegrin woman is a heroine, a brave _juna-kinja_, who has often +suckled her babe with blood instead of milk. These are the secrets +with which we heal dying men." + +Then, turning to Milenko, he added: + +"You, too, must be a brave young man, and wise even beyond your +years. You have the courage of reason, for you do not lose your head +in moments of great danger. We have already heard how you saved +several precious lives from the waves, and now, if your friend does +recover--and, with God's help, let us hope he will--it is to you, far +more than to anyone else, that he will owe his life. A practised +surgeon could surely not have bandaged the wound and stopped the +hemorrhage better than you did. Your father should have sent you to +study medicine in one of the great towns." + +Mara stretched forth her hand and clasped Milenko. + +"You never told me what you had done, my boy," said she, while the +tears trickled down her cheeks. + +"What I did was little enough; besides, did Uros ever tell you how he +saved my life and dragged me out of prison at Ragusa?" and Milenko +thereupon proceeded to tell them all how he had been accused of +manslaughter, and in what a wonderful way he had been saved by his +friend. + +"In my grief I have always one consolation," said Mara; "should the +worst happen, one son is left me, for they are _pobratim_," said she, +turning to the monk. + +"What has become of the murderer? Has he been arrested?" asked +Kvekvic of Milenko. + +"He took to the rocks and disappeared like a horned adder. At that +moment I only thought of Uros, who would have bled to death had he +been left alone." + +"Oh, those Vranics are a cursed race! The Almighty God has not put a +sign on them for nothing. This one has a cast in his eye, so that men +should keep aloof from him. They are all a peevish, fretful, +malicious race," said Kvekvic. + +"Their blood turns to gall," added the monk. + +"Oh, but I'll find him out, even if he hide himself in the most +secret recess!" quoth Milenko, turning towards Mara. "I'll not rest +till my brother's blood is avenged." + +"'Tooth for tooth, eye for eye,' say our Holy Scriptures," and Danko +Kvekvic crossed himself. + +"Amen!" added the monk, following his example. + +Just then Uros opened his eyes. He came to his senses for a few +seconds, and, seeing his mother, his pupils seemed to dilate with a +yearning look of love. She pressed his hand, and he slightly--almost +imperceptibly--returned the pressure. His lips quivered; he was about +to speak, when he again closed his eyes and his senses began once +more to wander. The monk bathed his lips with the cordial he was +administering him. The patient, apparently, had again fallen off to +sleep. + +Just then the sound of the convent bell was heard. + +"I am sorry," said the old caloyer, turning towards his guests, "but +I have to dismiss you now; the bell you have just heard summons us to +_vecernjca_. When our prayers are over, the doors of our house are +closed for the night--no one comes in or goes out after evensong." + +"But we two can surely remain with you to-night," said Kvekvic, +pointing to Milenko. + +"Surely Father Vjekoslav will readily give you permission to be our +honoured guests as long as you like, if he has not already granted +it; but----" (here the old man hesitated). + +"But what?" asked Kvekvic. + +"The _gospa_," said the monk, turning towards Mara, "must return +home." + +"Yes, I know," added Mara, sighing as she got up. + +"Still," quoth the good caloyer, "we shall take great care of him, +and to-morrow morning you can come as early as you like." + +The poor mother thanked the good old man; she slightly brushed off +the curls from her boy's forehead, kissed him with a deep-drawn sigh, +and with tearful eyes rose to go. + +"Thank you for all the care you have taken of my child; thank you, +uncle Danko, for all your kindness," and she kissed the priest's and +the monk's hands, according to the custom of the Slavs. + +Just then, a young lay-monk came to inform Mara that someone was +asking for her. It was Milenko's mother, who had come up to the +convent door to ask how Uros was getting on, and to see if she could +be of any use, for Milenko, with his usual thoughtfulness, had begged +his mother to come in the evening and accompany her friend back home. + +"Go, Milos, and join the brethren in their prayers," said Danko +Kvekvic. "I shall recite my orisons here, beside my nephew's bed." + +The monk and Milenko accompanied the forlorn mother to the convent +door, and bade her be of good cheer; then they went to church to take +part in the evening service. + +When the candles were all put out, and echoes of the evening-song had +died away, they all slowly, and with stately steps, wended their way +to the refectory, where a simple repast was spread out for them. +Being Friday, the frugal supper consisted of vegetarian food; there +were tomatoes baked with bread-crumbs, egg-plants stuffed with rice, +and other such oriental dishes. The dessert, especially, was a +sumptuous one, not only on account of the thickly-curded sour milk, +but of the splendid fruit which the convent garden afforded. There +were luscious plums as big as eggs; large, juicy and fragrant +peaches, the flesh of which clung to the stone; huge water-melons, +the inside of which looked like crimson snow, and melted away as +such, and sweet-scented musk-melons; above all, big clusters of +grapes of all shapes and hues; rosy-tinted, translucent berries, +looking like pale rubies; dark purple drupes covered with pearly +dust, which seemed like bunches of damsons; big white Smyrna grapes +of a waxy hue, the small sultana of Corinth, and the long grapes that +look like amber tears. + +Milenko, notwithstanding the grief he felt, made a hearty meal, for, +except a bit of bread, broken off as he walked along from his +father's loaf, and a draught of wine, he had scarcely tasted food the +whole of that day; therefore, he was more than hungry. Supper being +over, and a short thanksgiving prayer having been offered, Milenko +found himself all at once surrounded by the monks, who pressed him +with questions, for childish curiosity was their prevailing weakness. + +They were especially interested in the theatrical performances the +young man had witnessed at the Fenice of Venice, for they were amazed +to hear that the grand ladies of the town, all glittering with costly +gems, sat in boxes, where they exhibited to all eyes their naked arms +and breasts, whilst they looked at young girls in transparent skirts +hardly reaching their knees, who kept dancing on the tips of their +toes, or twirled their legs over their partners' heads. Hearing such +lewdness the saintly men were so greatly shocked that they crossed +themselves demurely, and the eldest shook their heads, and said, +reproachfully, that such dens of infamous resort were not places for +modest young men to go to. + +After that, Milenko told them of the last great invention, the boats +that went without sails, but which had two huge wheels moved by fire; +at which the monks again crossed themselves, and said that those were +the devil's inventions, and that if things continued at such a rate, +God would have to send another flood and destroy the world once more. + +Milenko would have willingly escaped from his persecutors, but he +still had to answer many questions about his life on board, the +hardships he had had to undergo, the storms his ship had met with. + +The medical monk had gone to take his place at Uros' bedside, and +Danko Kvekvic, after having had some supper, had come out to breathe +the fresh air on the convent's terrace, where all the caloyers had +assembled before retiring to rest. + +The scene was a most lovely one. Behind the terrace the high +mountains rose dark against the sky; nearer, the black rocks had +furry, velvety, and satin tints, for, under the dark and dusky light +of the disappearing twilight, the stones seemed to have grown soft; +whilst, on the other side, the broad expanse of the sea looked like a +mass of some hard burnished metal. + +The utter quietness, the perfect peace and rest which pervaded the +whole scene, rendered the sense of life a pleasurable feeling; still, +it is doubtful whether most of those holy men--who had never known +the real wear and tear of life--felt all the bliss of that beatific +rest. + +"Now," said Kvekvic to Milenko, "you can come and see your friend, +who, I am sorry to say, seems to be sinking; then you must retire to +rest; you'll soon have to start with your ship, and you should not +unfit yourself for your task." + +"No," pleaded Milenko; "it is, perhaps, the last watch we shall keep +together; therefore, let me stay by his bedside. But, tell me, is he +really getting worse?" + +"The fever is increasing fast, notwithstanding the father's +medicines." + +"Had we not better have a doctor from Budua or Cattaro?" + +"I don't think their skill could be of much use, for I really think +his hours are numbered here below--although he is young, and might +struggle back to life; darkness, albeit, is gathering fast around +him." + +Milenko, with a heavy heart, went back to the sufferer's cell, where +some other monks, also versed in the art of healing, had gathered +around him in a grave consultation. They all said to Milenko that +there was still hope; but, one by one, they all left the room, making +the sign of the Cross, and recommending him to God, as if human aid +could do nothing more for him. + +Poor Milenko felt as if all the nerves of his chest had contracted +painfully; life did not seem possible without the friend, the +constant companion of his infancy. + +As it was agreed that Danko Kvekvic should stay up with the old monk, +all the other caloyers went off to sleep; but presently one of the +younger brothers came in, bearing a tray of fragrant coffee, cooked +in the Turkish fashion. + +"Oh, thank you!" said Kvekvic, rubbing his hands, "I think you must +have guessed my wishes, for, to tell you the truth, I was actually +pining for a draught of that exhilarating beverage, one of the few +good things we owe to the enemies of our creed, for, in fact, I know +of few beverages that can be compared to a cup of fragrant coffee." + +"As far as luxuries go, the Turks are certainly our masters; not only +in confectionery, in sweet-scented sherbet, but even in cooking we +are rude barbarians compared to them." + +"They certainly are hedonists, who know how to render life +pleasurable." + +"Aye," said the monk, sternly, "theirs is the broad path leading to +perdition." Then, after a slight pause, he added: "What is that book +thou hast brought with thee, Blagoslav?" + +"I thought," replied the young man, somewhat bashfully, "I might help +you to pass your long vigil by reading to you; that is, of course, if +it be agreeable to you." + +The poor fellow stammered, and stopped, seeing the little success his +proposal seemed to elicit. + +"Blagoslav," retorted the old man, gravely, "vanity caused the +archangel's downfall, and vanity is thy besetting sin. Blagoslav, +thou knowest that thou readest well, for thou hast too often been +praised for it, and now thou seizest every opportunity to hear the +sound of thine own voice, which, I freely grant, is a pleasant one." + +"Let us hear it, then," said Danko Kvekvic, kindly; "besides, I +firmly believe that brother Blagoslav's intentions were good and----" + +"Danko Kvekvic," said the old man, gruffly, "you are not a general +favourite and an important man in Budua for nothing; you have the +evil knack of flattering people's foibles." + +"Come, come!" said the priest, good-humouredly, "should we pat a cat +on the right side or on the wrong side?" Then, turning to Blagoslav, +he added: "I, for myself, shall be thankful to you for beguiling away +the long hours by reading something to us." + +The young man, who had stood with his eyes cast down, and as still as +a statue, sat down on a stool by the table and opened his book. + +"What volume of ancient lore have you there?" asked the priest, +pleasantly. + +"'The Lives of the Saints,' written by a holy monk of our order." +Then, looking up at the old monk, "Which Life shall I read?" he +asked. + +"Begin with that of our patron saint, Prince George of Cappadocia. It +is a holy legend, which we, of course, all know, for the peasant +often sings it at his plough, the shepherds say it to one another +whilst tending their sheep, and"--turning to Milenko--"I suppose you, +too, have often recited it at the helm when keeping your watch on the +stormy sea." + +"Yes, and invoked his holy name in the hour of danger." Thereupon +Milenko crossed himself, and the others followed suit. + +"It is one of our oldest legends; still, always a very pleasant one +to hear, especially if it is well read. But, before you begin, +Blagoslav, let me first set the sufferer's pillow straight and +administer to his wants; then we shall listen to your reading without +disturbing you." + +The old man suited his actions to his words--felt Uros' pulse, gave +him with a spoon some drops of cordial, and afterwards sat down. + +"Now we are ready," said he to the young monk. + +Blagoslav thereupon began as follows:-- + + +PISMA SVETOGA JURJE. + +THE SONG OF ST. GEORGE + + All hail, O Bosnia! fairest of all lands, + Renowned throughout the world since many an age; + The springtide of the year renews thy bloom, + And with the spring St. George's Day is nigh. + He was the greatest glory of the Cross, + Who taught our fathers Christ's most holy creed. + Now God again has granted us His gifts-- + The life-awakening dews, the greenwood shade, + The sun's bright rays which warm the fruitful meads, + And melt the snow that lingers still a while + Upon the high and hoary mountain-tops; + The flowers fair that grow amongst the grass, + The blood-red rose that sheds its fragrance far, + The tawny swallows, from the sunny South, + That twitter sweetly 'neath the thatchèd eaves, + Are all the gifts that God sends every year + To Bosnia. Still He grants a greater boon; + This is the gladsome day of great St. George. + For though our land can boast of valiant knights, + Of warlike princes, eke of holy men, + Still greater far than all was _voyvod_ George + Who whilom was of Cappadocia Duke. + He killed the grisly dragon that of yore + Laid waste the land around Syrene's white walls, + And freed the country from a fearful scourge. + Far down a lake full many fathoms deep, + There dwelt this dragon dreadful to behold; + For from his round red eyes he shot forth flames, + And spouted from his snout a sooty smoke + That burnt and blasted all around the mere. + This dragon daily slew those daring knights, + Who, mounted all on prancing, warlike steeds + Had gone to try their strength against the beast; + For on his ghastly green and scaly skin + They bent and broke, or blunted, their best blades, + As striking on the dragon's horrid hide + Was worse than hitting at a coat of mail, + Or cleaving some hard, flinty rock in twain; + So, therefore, like an Eastern potentate, + He reigned and ruled the region round Syrene. + It was a terror-striking sight to see + The horrid beast rise out in snaky coils, + And rear his head with widely-gaping mouth, + As towards the town he hissed with such a din + That shook the strong and battlemented walls; + Thereon to satisfy his hungry maw. + The craven townsfolk, all appalled with fear, + Would--as a dainty morsel--send the beast + Some lovely maiden in the prime of youth. + If naught was offered to the famished beast, + He lifted up his huge and bat-like wings, + And flapping, leapt upon the town's white walls; + There, gripping 'twixt his sharp and cruel claws, + Whoever stood thereby within his reach, + He mauled and maimed, and gulped down men by scores, + Until the ground seemed all around to be + A marsh of mangled flesh and muddy gore, + With skulls half split and jagged, splintered bones. + When each and every man within the town + Had offered up his child unto the fiend, + And every mother wept from early morn, + And saw at night her child in dreadful dreams, + They told the King his turn had come at last + To offer up his daughter to the beast-- + His cherished child, the apple of his eye, + The only heir of all his wide domains. + Oh! brother mine, hadst thou but seen just then + The hot and blinding tears rush from his eyes, + Whilst cruel grief convulsed his manly frame; + At such a woful sight you would have thought + It was some abject woman, not a King, + Who, crouching low, was sobbing on the ground. + He kissed his child and said: "My daughter dear, + Woe worth the day that thou art reft from me! + For now, alas! who is to wear my crown, + Who is to grace my throne when thou art gone?" + When last he ceased to weep, he bade the maids + To deck his daughter out in richest dress, + With costly Orient pearls and priceless gems, + E'en as she were to wed the mighty Czar; + And then he said: "My daughter, as thy suite, + Take thou with thee my dukes, my noblest peers, + And likewise all the ladies of the land, + In sable garments clad to grace thy steps. + Still, let us hope some help may come at last, + And, meanwhile, pray the great god Alkoron. + In dire distress all earthly help is vain; + Alone, thy god may come to thy behest + And free thee from the dreadful dragon's claws." + The mother hugged her daughter to her heart, + The forlorn father blessed his weeping child, + Who then departed to her dismal doom; + And as she crossed the squares, the crowded streets, + The flutes and timbrels played a wailing dirge, + That might have melted e'en a heart of stone. + Behind her walked the lords of high degree, + Then all the noble ladies of the land, + All clad in widow's weeds and trailing veils. + It was, indeed, a grand and glorious sight + To witness all this pageantry of woe, + The stately show of grief, the pomp of tears. + The sun that shone upon the Princess's robes, + Now glittered brightly on the gold brocade; + Her eight rings sparkled all with costly gems, + For each alone was worth at least eight towns; + Her shining girdle, wrought of purest gold, + Was studded o'er with coral and turquoise; + Around her throat she wore a row of pearls, + Iridescent, all brought from far-off seas. + Upon her brow she bore the regal gem, + Which glittered in the sun with such a sheen + That every eye was dazzled by its light. + The maid, moreover, was of beauty rare, + Of tall and slender form, yet stately mien, + And graceful as the topmost bough that bends, + Or branchlet bowing 'neath the summer breeze; + Within her hand she held some lilies white, + The symbols of a young and modest maid. + She crossed with tearful eyes the crowded streets; + With grace she greeted every child she met, + And all--whose hearts were not as cold as clay-- + Shed bitter tears at such a sight of woe, + And sighing, said: "Alas, her mother dear!" + At last when she had almost reached the lake, + The mighty dukes, her father's noble peers, + As well as every lady of her suite, + Appalled with fear, now bade her all farewell, + And hastened back to town before the beast + Arose from out the mere to seize his prey. + Now, God Almighty chose to show His love + Not only to the crowd that stood aghast, + But unto all the region round Syrene. + He, therefore, sent His servant, saintly George, + To turn them from their evil ways to Christ. + The Knight came to the mere just when the maid + Remained alone to weep upon her fate, + Forsaken as she seemed by God and man. + The Knight, who saw her from afar, sped on + With all due haste; then leaping from his steed, + He strode up by her side and asked her why + She stood there by the lake appalled, aghast. + For all reply the Princess only sobbed, + And with her hand she bade him quickly go. + "Can I afford no help?" then asked the Knight. + "Flee fast away, spur on your sprightly steed; + With all due haste, take shelter in the town; + Uprising from the waters of the lake, + The hungry dragon now doth take his meal; + So hie thee hence. Just see, the waters move; + Thou hast no time to tarry here to speak." + But George, undaunted by her words, replied: + "Fair maiden, dry your eyes and trust in me. + Or rather trust in God, who sent me here." + "What shall I do, fair Knight?" the maid replied. + "Forswear," he answered, "all thy gods of clay, + And bow with meekness to the name of Christ, + Whose Cross we bear to reach a better life; + For, with His mighty help, I hope to slay + The hellish beast that haunts this lonely land; + So, therefore, stand aside and let me fight." + Now, when the girl had heard these words of hope, + She hastened to reply unto the saint, + "If God doth grant thee superhuman might, + That wonders as the like thou canst achieve; + If thou hast strength enough to slay the fiend + And free me from this awful fate of mine, + I shall forsake my god, false Alkoron, + And bow with thee unto thine own true God, + Extolling Him as mightier of the two. + If thou wilt also show me how the sign + Of that most mystic Cross is made, Sir Knight, + I shall then cross myself both morn and eve. + Moreover, thou shalt have most costly gifts, + As well as all the gems I bear on me." + She had but hardly uttered these few words + When, lo! the waters blue began to heave, + And bubble up with foam, and then the beast + Upreared on high his dark and scaly head, + That looked just like some sharp and jagged cliff, + 'Gainst which small shipwrecked smacks are dashed at night. + Then, rising from the lake, the horrid beast + Began to spout the water like a whale, + And bellow with a loud, appalling noise, + Just like the crocodiles that lurk unseen + Amongst the sedges growing by the Nile; + The roaring ended in a hollow moan, + As when the hot simoon begins to blow + In fitful blasts across the Libyan plain. + The Princess stood thereby and shook with fear; + She almost fainted at that dreadful sight. + St. George's warlike steed began to rear, + And prance and tremble; then it tried to flee; + But curbing it with might, and wheeling round, + The Knight with clashing strokes attacked the beast. + His sabre, striking on that scaly skin, + Struck forth a shower of sparks that glittered bright + Like ocean spray tossed by the wind at night, + Or glowing iron 'neath the smithy's sledge, + Or when the kindling steel is struck 'gainst flint. + The monster lifted then its leathern wings + And, bat-like, tried to fly. It only looked + Like some old hen alighting from its perch; + With flutt'ring wings outspread it floundered down, + And was about to fall upon the Knight + And crush him 'neath its huge and massy weight; + Or grasp him with its sharp and cruel claws, + Just as an eagle pounces on a lamb. + But George, invoking Mary to his help, + Bent down and wheeled aside; then with one stroke + He plunged his sword within the dragon's side, + Just near the heart, beneath the massy wings. + A flood of dark red blood at once gushed out, + Which forthwith tinged the water with this gore. + The monster yelled aloud with such a din + That shook the white and battlemented walls + Then, writhing like a trodden newt or worm + It wallowed in the dust and seemed to die. + But still, before the dragon passed away, + The Knight undid his long and silken scarf, + And bound it round the monster's scaly neck; + He handed then the scarf unto the maid, + Who now drove on the dragon like a lamb. + They both went through the gate within the town, + Between the gaping crowd that stood aside + To let them pass, amazed at such a sight; + And thus they crossed the streets and crowded squares, + Until they reached the lofty palace gate. + There 'neath the pillared portal stood the King, + Who stared astounded at the sight he saw. + The saintly Knight alighted from his steed, + And bowing low, he said in accents clear: + "Believe in God the Father, mighty King, + Believe in God the Son, and God the Holy Ghost; + Forsake for aye thy lying gods of clay, + And Sire, let all Syrene with bended knee, + Confess the Lord and make the mystic sign + Of Jesus Christ, who died upon the Cross. + If thou provoke the anger of the Lord, + Far greater scourges might then hap to thee." + The King, who saw his own dear child alive, + Shed tears of joy and clasped her to his heart, + And gladly then--and without more ado-- + There in the midst of all the gathered crowd, + With all his Court, he made the mystic sign + That scares the foe of man in darkest hell; + Then bowing down confessed the name of Christ. + Thereon the saint unsheathed the mighty sword, + And with a blow struck off the scaly head. + The dragon, that till then had scourged the town, + Lay wriggling low amidst the throes of death, + And wallowed in a pool of dark red blood, + Emitting a most foul and loathsome smell. + Still, at the ghastly sight all stared well pleased, + Nay, some threw stones and hit the dying beast, + For 'gainst a fallen foe; the vile are brave. + And during all this time the kind old King + Had tried to show the gratitude he felt; + He led the saint within his palace halls, + For there he hoped to grant him many a boon. + "Thou art, indeed," said he, "most brave and true, + Endowed by God with superhuman might, + And as a token of my heartfelt thanks + Accept this chain of gold, for 'tis the meed + Of daring deeds, the like of which thou didst. + This diamond ring till now adorned my hand; + I give it thee. Besides, my gallant Knight, + One half of all my land will now be thine; + Nor even then can I requite thy worth, + Except by granting thee my only child, + My darling daughter, as thy loving bride." + The saint, however, thanked for all these gifts, + And bowing low, he said unto the King: + "Thy gratitude to God alone is due, + For I am but a tool within His hand; + 'Tis He who sent me here to kill the beast, + That hell had sent to waste and scourge your land. + Without His help, a man is but a reed, + A blade of grass that bends beneath the breeze, + A midge that ne'er outlives a single night; + To thy distress He lent a listening ear, + And freed thee from that foul and fiendish beast. + Then dash thy foolish gods of stone and brass, + Build shrines and temples, praise His holy name. + Still, for thy gifts accept my heartfelt thanks; + My task, howe'er, is that to go and preach + The name of Jesus Christ from town to town. + To Persia straightway I must wend my way + And there declare the love of God to man." + Thereon he took his leave and went away + To preach in distant lands a better life; + Converting men of high and low degree. + To Alexandra, who then reigned in Rome, + He bore the tidings of Christ's holy name; + And God e'er granted to this _voyvod_ saint + The might of working strange and wond'rous deeds. + At last he met a saintly martyr's death, + And shed his precious blood for Jesus Christ. + To Thee, St. George, we now devoutly pray, + To be our intercessor with the Lord, + That He vouchsafe His mercy to us all. + + + + +CHAPTER XIX + +THE "KARVA TAJSTVO" + + +The sun had already set as Mara and her friend left the convent gates +and slowly wended their way homewards. The mother's heart was heavily +laden with grief, for although the holy men had done their best to +comfort and encourage her, still doubt oppressed her, and she kept +asking herself whether she would still find her son alive on the +morrow. Now the darkness which slowly spread itself over the open +country, and rendered the surrounding rocks of a gloomier hue, the +broad, blue sea of a dull, leaden tint, only made her sadness more +intense. + +Dusk softens the human heart; it opens it to those tender emotions +unfelt during the struggle of the day, whilst the raging sun pouring +from above enkindles the fierce passions lurking in the heart. That +dimness which spreads itself over the world at nightfall, wrapping it +up as in a vaporous shroud, has a mystic power over our nature. That +clear obscure mistiness seems to open to the mind's eye the distant +depths of borderland; we almost fancy we can see dim, shadowy figures +float past before us. The most sceptic man becomes religious, +superstitious and spiritual at gloaming. + +The two women hardly spoke on their way; both of them prayed for the +sufferer lying in the convent; but whilst they prayed their minds +often wandered from Uros to Milena, who had been left at home ailing. +When they arrived at the gates of the town night had already set in. +Mara hastened home with her friend, but Milena was not there; they +both went to Radonic's house to look for her. They were afraid lest, +in her state of health, she might have heard of her husband's death. + +A dreary night awaited the women there. After the child had left her, +Milena, who had fallen into a swoon, had been delivered of a son; but +the infant, uncared for, and finding the world bleak and desolate, +had fled away, without even waiting for the holy water and the salt +to speed it forth to more blessed regions. + +Milena had only been roused to life by the throes of childbirth, and +no sooner had her deliverance taken place than she again fainted +away. + +Mara's neighbour having, in the meanwhile, been informed by her +little boy of Milena's illness, hastened at once to her help. +Moreover, on her way thither, she called the _babica_ (or midwife), +but when she reached Radonic's house, she found the new-born infant a +cold corpse and the mother apparently dead. The two women did their +utmost to recall Milena to life, but all their skill was of no avail. +At last, at their wits' end, a passer-by was hailed and begged to go +for the doctor at once. + +When Mara came, all hopes of rousing Milena to life had been +despaired of, but what the skill of the scientific practitioner and +of the wise old woman could not bring about, was effected simply by +Mara's presence. After Uros' mother had stood some time by her side, +stroking her hair, pressing her hand on the sufferer's clammy +forehead, and whispering endearing words in her ear, Milena opened +her eyes. Seeing Mara standing beside her, the sight of that woman +whom she loved, and whose son she doated on, slowly roused her to +life. Consciousness, little by little, crept back within her. When +she heard from the mother's lips that Uros was not dead, nay, that +there was hope of his recovery, she whispered: + +"If I could only see him once more, then I should be but too happy to +die." + +After this slight exertion she once more fainted, but she was soon +afterwards brought back again to life, and Mara then was able to make +her take the cordial the doctor had prepared for her. + +A few hours later, when the physician took his leave for the night, +prescribing to the women what they were to do, he and the midwife +warmly congratulated each other, not doubting that their skill had +snatched the young woman out of the jaws of death. + +After a night of pain and restlessness, Milena, early on the next +morning, exhausted as she was, fell into a quiet, death-like sleep. +Mara then left her to return to the Convent of St. George to see if +Uros were still alive and how he was getting on. Milenko's mother +went with her. They had not been away long when Milena, shuddering, +uttered a loud cry of terror, sat up in her bed and looked straight +in front of her. + +"What is the matter?" said the midwife, running up to the bedside. + +"Don't you see him standing there?" cried the awe-stricken woman. + +"There is nobody, my dear; nobody at all." + +"Yes! Radonic, my husband, all covered with wounds! He is dying--he +is dead!" and Milena, appalled, stared wildly at the foot of the bed. + +"It is your imagination; your husband is with your father at +Cettinje." + +"No, no; I tell you he's there; help him, or he'll bleed to death!" +and the poor woman, exhausted, fell back on her bed unconscious. + +The midwife shuddered, for, although she saw nobody, she was quite +sure that the apparition seen by Milena was no fancy of an overheated +brain, but Radonic's ghost, that had come to visit his wife, for the +news of the _heyduk_'s death had been carefully withheld from Milena. + +The midwife went to the fount of holy water, took the blessed sprig +of olive which was over it, dipped it into the fount and sprinkled +the bed and the place where the ghost had stood, uttering all the +while the appropriate prayer for the purpose. Then she sprinkled +Milena, and made the sign of the Cross over her. After that she gave +her some drops of cordial, and little by little brought her back to +her senses, vowing all the while not to remain alone again in that +haunted house. + +When Milena recovered, "My husband is dead, is he not?" she asked. + +"But--no," said the midwife, hesitatingly. + +"You know he is. Did you not see him standing there? He had one wound +on the head and several in the breast." + +The elderly woman did not answer. + +"When did he die?" quoth Milena. + +"Some days ago; but----" + +"He was killed by the Turks, was he not?" + +"Yes." + +"Why did no one tell me?" + +"Because they were afraid to upset you." + +"He is dead," said Milena to herself, staring at the spot where she +had seen her husband, "dead!" Then she heaved a deep sigh of relief. + +The midwife tried to comfort her, but she did not seem to heed her +words. + +"My babe is dead, all are dead!" + +Presently the doctor came in to see how she was getting on. + +"Is Uros dead?" was Milena's first question. + +"No, he is still alive; a message came from the convent this +morning." + +"But is there any hope of recovery?" + +"If he has lasted on till to-day he may yet pull through; he is young +and healthy." + +"Can I get up to-day?" asked Milena, wistfully. + +"Get up?" asked the doctor, astonished. + +"Yes." + +"Did you hear her?" said the physician, turning towards the midwife. +"She asks if she can get up. Yes, you can get up if you wish to kill +yourself." + +A look of determination settled in the young woman's eyes; but +neither the doctor nor the midwife noticed it. + +"Anyhow, it is a good sign when the patient asks if he can get up, +except in consumption," added the physician, taking his leave. "If +you keep very quiet, and lie perfectly still, without tossing about +and fretting, you'll be able to get up in a few days." + +Milena pressed her lips, but did not say anything in reply; only, +after a little time: + +"Do I look very ill?" + +"No, not so very ill, either." + +"Give me that looking-glass," she added. + +The midwife hesitated. + +"Is that the way you are going to lie still and get well; you must +know that yesterday you were very ill." + +"I know; but please hand me the looking-glass." + +The midwife did as she was bid. Milena took up the glass and looked +at herself scrutinisingly, just like an actor who has made up his +face. + +"I am very much altered, am I not?" + +"Oh, but it'll be all over in one or two days! Wait till to-morrow, +and----" + +"But to-day I think people would hardly recognise me?" + +"Oh, it is not quite as bad as that! besides----" + +Milena opened her eyes questioningly, and looked at the midwife. + +"I care very little whether I am good-looking or not; whom have I to +live for now?" + +"Come, you must not give up in that way. You are but a child, and +have seen but little happiness up to now; you are rich, free, +handsome; you'll soon find a husband, only don't talk, take a cup of +this good broth, and try to go to sleep." + +"Very well, but I know you are busy, so go home and send me your +daughter; she can attend upon me; besides, _gospa_ Markovic will soon +be here." + +The midwife hesitated. + +"Go," said Milena; "I'll feel quieter if you go." + +"But you must promise me to keep very quiet, and not to attempt, on +any account, to get up." + +"Certainly," said Milena; "the doctor said I was not to rise; why +should I disobey him? Besides, where have I to go?" + +The midwife, after having tucked her patient carefully in bed and +made her as cosy as she could, went off, saying that her daughter +would soon come to her. + +Milena, with anxious eyes and a beating heart, watched the midwife, +and, at last, saw her go away and close the door after her. She +waited for some time to see that she did not return; then she +gathered up all her strength, and tried to rise. + +It was, however, a far more difficult task than she had expected, for +she fancied that she had fallen from the top of a high mountain into +a chasm beneath, and that every bone in her body had been broken to +splinters. If she had been crushed under horses' hoofs, she could not +have felt a greater soreness all over her body. Still, rise she +would, and she managed to crawl slowly out of her bed. + +Her legs, at first, could hardly hold her up; the nerves and muscles +had lost all their strength, she fancied the bones had got limp; her +back, especially, seemed to be gnawed by hungry dogs. + +Having managed to get over her first fit of faintness, she, holding +on to the bed and against the wall, succeeded in dragging herself +towards the table and dropped into a chair. + +She sat there for a while, making every effort to overcome her +faintness, but she felt so sick, so giddy, and in such pain, that her +head sank down on the table of its own weight, and she burst out +crying from sheer exhaustion. + +When she had somewhat recovered, she slowly undid her long tresses, +and her luxuriant hair fell in waves down to the ground. She shook +her head slightly, as if to disentangle the wavy mass, plunged her +fingers through the locks to separate them, and felt them lovingly, +uttering a deep sigh of regret as she did so; then after a moment's +pause, she shrugged her shoulders, took up a pair of scissors, and, +without more ado, she clipped the long tresses as close to her head +as she possibly could, carefully placing each one on the table as she +cut it off. Then she felt her head, which seemed so small, so cold, +and so naked; she took up a mirror with a trembling hand and +quivering lips pulled down at each corner. After she had seen her own +reflection in the glass, she burst into tears. She had hardly put +down the mirror, when Frana, the midwife's daughter, came in. + +The young girl, seeing Milena, whom she had expected to find in bed, +sitting on the chair with all her hair clipped off, remained rooted +to the spot where she was standing. + +"Milena, dear, is it you?" + +"Yes," replied Milena, mournfully. + +"But why did you get up? and why have you cut off your beautiful +hair?" asked the midwife's daughter, scared. + +"My hair burdened my head; I could not bear the weight any more; +besides----" + +The young girl looked at Milena, wondering whether she were in her +right senses, or if the grief of having lost her husband and her +child had not driven her to distraction. + +"Besides what, Milena?" + +"Well, I am not for long in this world, you know!" + +"Do not say such foolish things; and let me help you back to bed." + +Milena shook her head, and fixing her large and luminous deep blue +eyes on the young girl, she said, wistfully: + +"Listen, Frana. Uros is dying, perhaps he is dead! I must see him +once more. I must go to him, even if I have to die on the way +thither!" + +"What! go to the Convent of St. George?" + +Milena nodded assent. + +"But what are you thinking about? How can you, in your state, think +of going there?" + +"I must, even if I should have to crawl on all-fours!" + +"But if you got there, if I carried you there, they would never let +you go in; you know women----" + +"Yes, they will; that's why I've cut off my hair." + +"I don't understand." + +"I'll dress up as a boy; you'll come with me; you'll say I'm your +brother, and Uros' friend. You'll do that for me, Frana?" + +And Milena lifted up her pleading eyes, which now seemed larger than +ever and lighted up with an inward ethereal fire. + +The young girl seemed to be hypnotised by those entreating eyes. + +"But where will you find the clothes you want?" + +"If you can't get me your brother's, then borrow or buy a suit for +me; but go at once. You must get me a cap, and all that is required, +but go at once." + +"Very well; only, in the meantime, go to bed, take some broth, and +wait till I return." + +"But you promise to come back as quickly as you can?" + +"Yes, if you are determined to put your life in danger, and----" + +"And what?" + +"If you don't care what people say." + +"Frana, if ever you love a man as I love Uros, you will see that you +will care very little for your own life, and still less for what +people might say about you." + +Frana helped Milena to go to bed again. She made her take a cup of +broth, with the yolk of an egg beaten into it; placed, on a chair by +her bed, a bowl of mulled wine, which she was to take so as to get up +her strength; put away the long locks of hair lying on the table, and +at last she went off. + +Presently, Milenko's mother came to see Milena, and stayed with her +till Frana returned, and then she was persuaded to go back home. When +she had gone, Frana undid the bundle she had brought, took out a +jacket, a pair of wide breeches and leggings, the _opanke_; lastly, +the small black cap with its gold-embroidered crimson crown. + +Frana helped Milena to dress, and, in her weak state, the operation +almost exhausted her. The broad sash, tightly wound round her waist, +served to keep her up, and, leaning on Frana's arm, she left the +house. + +"I have managed to find a cart for you, so we need not cross the +town, but go round the walls, in order that you may not be seen; +besides, the cart will take us to the foot of the mountain, not far +from the convent." + +"How shall I ever be able to thank you enough for what you have done +for me, Frana?" + +"By getting over your illness as quickly as possible, for if any harm +should come of it my mother 'll never forgive me, and I don't blame +her." + +The sun was in the meridian when the cart arrived at the foot of the +mountain and the two friends alighted. As they climbed the rough and +uneven path leading up to the convent, Milena, though leaning on +Frana's strong arm, had more than once to stop and rest, for at every +step she made the pain in every joint, in every muscle, was most +acute. It seemed as if all the ligaments that bind the bones of the +skeleton together had snapped asunder, and that her body was about to +fall to pieces. Then she felt a smarting, a fire that was burning +within her bowels, and which increased at every effort she made; in +fact, had it not been for the young girl, she would either have sunk +by the roadside or crawled up--as she had said herself--on all-fours. + +Her head also was aching dreadfully, her temples were throbbing, and +she was parched with fever. Her limbs sank every now and then beneath +her weight; still, her love and her courage kept her up, and she +trudged along without uttering a word of complaint. At last they +reached the convent. Then her strength gave way. Anxiety, pain and +shame overpowered her, and she fell fainting on the threshold. Frana +summoned help; but, before the monks came, Milena had recovered, and +was sitting down on a bench to rest. + +In the meanwhile Uros was lingering on--a kind of death in life; the +vital flame was flickering, but not entirely extinguished; the ties +that fastened the soul to life were still strong. Towards midnight he +had sat up in his bed, and--as the monks thought--the Virgin and +Christ had appeared to him, then he had, for some time, not given any +further signs of consciousness. Nay, the monks were so sure the +sufferer was passing away, that they, in fact, began reciting the +prayers for the dying. They did so with much fervour, regarding Uros +almost as a saint, for never had mortal man been so highly favoured +by the Deity. Little by little, however, life, instead of ebbing +away, seemed to return; but the sufferer's mind was quite lost. + +In the morning, first his father had come, together with his friend +Janko, and a little while afterwards Mara came. + +The monks related to the wondering parents how the Virgin had +appeared, bringing with her the infant Christ for him to kiss. +Milenko, however, kept his peace, feeling sure that if he expressed +an opinion as to the weird apparition, his words would be regarded as +blasphemy. + +Coming to himself, Uros recognised his parents, and as Mara bent upon +him to kiss his brows: + +"Milena," whispered Uros, almost inaudibly. + +"Milenko," said the mother, "he wants you." + +"No," said Milenko, softly to Mara, "it is not me he wants; he has +been calling for Milena since he has been coming back to life. I am +sure that her presence would quiet him, and, who knows? perhaps add +to his recovery." + +The poor mother said nothing; she only patted her boy's brown hand, +which seemed to have got whiter and thinner in this short space of +time. + +"I think it is so hard to refuse him a thing upon which he has set +his heart," said Milenko, pleadingly. + +Mara still gave no answer. + +"Perhaps I am wrong in mentioning it--but you do not know how dearly +he loved this cousin of his." + +Mara's eyes filled with tears. + +"Could these priests not be persuaded to let her come in just for a +moment?" + +"Milena is too ill to come here; in fact----" + +"Is she dead?" asked the young man. + +"No, not dead, but as ill as Uros himself is." + +"What is the matter with her?" asked Milenko. + +Mara whispered something in the young man's ear. + +Danilo Kvekvic had left the sufferer to attend to his own duties. All +the monks of the convent had, one by one, come to recite an orison by +the bedside, as at some miraculous shrine; then Uros was left to the +care of his parents; even the old monk, after administering to the +young man's wants, had gone to take some rest. + +For some time the room was perfectly quiet; Mara and Milenko were +whispering together in subdued tones; the _pobratim_'s fathers stood +outside. + +After a little while Uros began to be delirious, and to speak about +Radonic and Vranic, who were going to kill Milena. + +"There, you see, she is dying; let me go to her. Why do you hold me +here? Unhand me; you see she is alone--no one to attend upon her." +(The remainder of his words were unintelligible.) + +The tears rolled down Mara's cheeks, for she thought that her son's +words were but too true; at that moment Milena was probably dying. + +"She came to me for help, and I----" + +"Milenko," added the delirious man, "get the ship ready; let us take +her away." + +"Yes," said Milenko; "we have only to heave the anchor and be off." + +Uros thereupon made an effort to get up, but the pain caused by his +wound was so great that he fell fainting on his bed with a deep moan. + +The two men standing at the door came to the sufferer's bedside. Mara +herself bent over him to assist him. Just then Milenko was called +out--someone was asking for him. + +The fever-fit had subsided. The sufferer, falling back on his pillow, +exhausted, seemed to be slowly breathing his last. + +The tears were falling fast from Mara's eyes. The two men by the bed +were twisting their bristling moustaches, looking helplessly forlorn. +Just then Milenko appeared on the threshold, followed by a wan and +corpse-like boy. Bellacic frowned at the intruder. Mara, at the +sight, started back, opening her eyes widely. + +"You?" said she. + +Milena's head drooped down. Milenko put his arm round her waist to +keep her up. + +"You here, my child?" added Mara, opening her arms and clasping the +young woman within them. + +Milena began to sob in a low voice. + +"The blessed Virgin must have given you supernatural strength, my +poor child; still, you have been killing yourself." + +Milena did not utter a word. She pressed Mara's hand convulsively; +her face twitched nervously as she looked upon her lover lying +lifelessly on his bed; then (Mara having made way for her) the +exhausted woman sank down upon her chair. + +"I told you," said the old monk, coming in, "that in your weak, +exhausted state it was not right for you to see your friend, but +nowadays," added he, in a grumbling tone, "young people are so +headstrong that they will never do what is required of them for their +own good. Now that you have seen him, I hope that you are satisfied +and will come out." + +"Just let me stay a little longer, till he comes to himself again, +only a very few minutes," said Milena, imploringly, and clasping her +hands in supplication. + +"Please let him stay; Uros 'll be so glad to see him when he opens +his eyes. He'll keep very quiet till then." + +"Be it so," said the monk; "only the room is getting too crowded. The +best cure for a sick man is sympathy and fresh air." + +"You are right," said Milenko, "but I give up my place to him; +besides, I have some business in town." + +As Bellacic accompanied the _pobratim_ out-- + +"Where are you going?" said he. + +"To find out Vranic, and settle accounts with him." + +"No, no! Wait!" said the father. + +"Wait! for what?" + +"Let us not think of vengeance as long as Uros lives." + +Milenko did not seem persuaded; Bellacic insisted: + +"Don't let us provoke the wrath of the Almighty by more bloodshed." + +As they were thus discussing the matter, the doctor from Budua +arrived, having been sent by Danilo Kvekvic at the request of the +monks. + +The old practitioner, the same one who had attended Milena, looked at +Uros, shook his head gravely, as if he would say: "There is no hope +whatever;" then he touched the sufferer's pulse and examined his +wound. He approved of the treatment he had received, and then, after +a few moments' brown study, and after taking a huge pinch of snuff, as +if to clear his head, he said, slowly, that all human effort was +vain; the young man could not last more than a few hours--till +eventide, or, at the longest, during the night. + +"Umph!" grunted the old man, shrugging his shoulders; "he is in the +hands of God." + +"Of course, of course. We are all in the hands of God." + +"I thought," added the caloyer, "he would not pass yesterday night, +especially after the Most Blessed appeared to him, holding her Infant +in her arms." + +"What!" said the doctor; "you mean to say that the Virgin appeared to +him?" + +"Of course, and I was not the only one who saw her, for, besides, +Blagoslav, Danko Kvekvic, and this young man"--pointing to Milenko +--"were also in the room." + +"Then God may perform another miracle in his favour," said the +doctor, incredulously, "for he is beyond all earthly skill." + +Uros, in fact, was sinking fast, and, although the old man clung to +hope, still the doctor's words seemed but too true. After some time +the sufferer seemed to give signs of consciousness, and when Milena +placed her thin white hand on his forehead, he felt the slight +pressure of her fingers, and, with his eyes closed, said: + +"Milena, are _you_ here?" and a faint smile played over his lips. + +"Yes, my love," whispered Milena, "I am here." + +Uros opened his eyes, looked at her, and seemed bewildered at the +change which had come over her; still, he said nothing for a while, +but was evidently lost in thought, after which he added: + +"Milena, have you been here all night?" + +"No, I only came here just now." + +"You look ill--very ill; I thought you were dying." + +Milena kissed his hand, bathing it with tears. Uros once more sank +down on his bed exhausted; still, after a few moments' rest, he again +opened his eyes and looked round for his father. Bellacic understood +the mute appeal, and bent down over him. + +"Father," said he, "I don't think I am in this world for a long time. +I feel that all my strength is gone; but before----" + +The father bent low over his son. + +"Before what?" he asked. + +"Before dying----" + +"Well, my son?" + +"Will you promise, father?" + +"Yes, I promise; but what is it you want, my darling?" + +"To be married to Milena," he said, with an effort. + +The tears trickled down the elderly man's sunburnt cheeks. + +"I promise to do my utmost," said he. + +He at once turned round and explained the whole affair to his wife. +Milena, who seemed to have guessed Uros' request, had hid her face in +her hands and was sobbing. Thereupon Bellacic left the room and went +to find the old monk, who had gone out with the doctor. Taking him +aside, he explained the matter to him. + +"What!" said the old monk, "bring another woman into the convent, and +a young woman besides?" + +"Oh, there is no need to bring her in!" + +"What do you mean?" + +"She is already in," replied Bellacic, unable to refrain from +smiling. + +"How did she come in? When did she come in? And with whom did she +come in?" asked the caloyer, angrily. + +"She came in just before the doctor; you yourself accompanied her." + +The old man stared at Bellacic. + +"She is the one who came in dressed in boy's clothes; the midwife's +daughter accompanied her as far as the----" + +"What! do you mean to say that there are three women, and that one of +them is a midwife?" quoth the monk, shocked. + +Bellacic explained matters. The caloyer consented that Danilo Kvekvic +should be sent for to perform the wedding rites _in extremis_, +provided Milena left the convent together with Mara that very +evening, and did not return again on the morrow. Bellacic, moreover, +having promised to give the church a fine painting, representing the +Virgin Mary as she had appeared to Uros the evening before, the whole +affair was settled to everyone's perfect satisfaction. + +Mara, who had taken Milena into the adjoining room, said to her: + +"Uros has made his father a strange request, and Bellacic has +consented; for who can gainsay a dying man's wish?" + +"I know," said Milena, whose lips were twitching nervously. + +"He wishes to be married to you." + +Milena fell into Mara's arms and began to sob. + +"But," said Milena, "I am so frightened." + +"Frightened of what?" + +"My husband." + +Mara, bewildered for a moment, remembered that Milena had never been +told of Radonic's death. + +"I know," continued the young woman, "that he was killed, for he +appeared to me only a few hours ago; and I am so frightened lest he +should be recalled again and scare Uros to death." + +"Oh! if incense is burning the whole time, if many blessed candles +are lighted, and the whole room sprinkled with holy water, the ghost +will never be able to show itself in such a place; besides, my dear, +you know that you were almost delirious, so that the ghost you saw +must have only been your fancy." + +"Still, I did not know that he was dead, and I saw him all covered +with wounds, and as plainly as I see you now; he looked at me so +fiercely----" + +Milena shuddered; her features grew distorted at the remembrance of +the terrible apparition, and, in her weak state, the little strength +left in her forsook her, and she fell fainting into Mara's arms. + +It was with great difficulty that she was brought back to life, and +then she consented to the marriage. + +A messenger was sent to Budua to ask Danilo Kvekvic to come and +officiate, and the midwife's daughter went with him to bring Milena a +dress, as it would have almost been a sacrilege for her to get +married in a boy's clothes. + +Danilo Kvekvic came at once; the young girl brought the clothes and +the wreaths, and everything being ready, the lugubrious marriage +service was performed; still, it was to be gone through once more, +when Uros should have recovered, if he ever did recover. The monks +crowded at the door, looking on wonderingly at the whole affair, for +in their quiet, humdrum life, such a ceremony was an unheard of +thing, and an event affording them endless gossip. + +The emotion Uros had undergone weakened him in such a way that he +fell back fainting. His pulse grew so feeble that it could not be +felt any more; his breathing had evidently stopped, a cold +perspiration gathered on his brow; his features acquired not only the +rigidity, but also the pinched look and livid tint of death. + +"I am afraid that it is the beginning of the end." + +He began once more reciting the prayers for the dying. Danilo Kvekvic +sprinkled him with holy water. All the rest sank on their knees by +the bed. A convulsive sob was heard. Milenko, unable to bear the +scene any longer, rushed out of the room. + +Whilst he was sobbing, and the friars outside were trying to comfort +him, the old monk came out. + +"Well, father?" said the young man, with a terror-stricken face. + +"It is all over," said the old man, shaking his head gravely. + +Milenko uttered a deep groan; then he sank on his knees, kissing the +monk's hand devoutly. + +"Thank you, father, for all that you have done for my brother. If +earthly skill could have recalled him to life, yours would have done +so. Thank you for your kindness to me and to all of us. Now my task +begins; nor do I rest until it is accomplished." + +Unable to keep back the tears that were blinding him, nor the sobs +rising to his throat, he rose and ran out of the convent. + +Arriving at Budua, he went everywhere seeking for Vranic; but he +could not find him anywhere. Nothing positive was known about him; +only, it was said that three children had seen him, or someone +looking like him, outside the city walls. Later on, a young sailor +related that he had rowed a man answering to Vranic's description on +board of a ship bound for the coasts of Italy. The ship, a few hours +afterwards, had sailed off. + +Weary and disheartened, Milenko went home, where he found his father +and mother, who had come back from the convent. + +"Well," said the father, "have you heard anything about Vranic?" + +"He has fled; my vengeance has, therefore, to be postponed. It might +take weeks instead of days to accomplish it; months instead of weeks, +and even years instead of months. But I shall not rest before Vranic +pays with his own blood for his evil deed," said Milenko. + +"You would not be a Slav, nor my son, if you did not act in this way. +Uros had certainly done as much for you." + +"And now," added Milenko, "as I might be called away from this world +before accomplishing this great deed of justice, we must gather, +to-night, such of our friends and relations as will take with us the +terrible oath of blood, the _karva tajstvo_." + +"Be it so," said Janko Markovic. "I, of course, will take the oath +with you, my son, and will help you to the utmost of my power." + +Milenko shook his father's hand, and added: "Danilo Kvekvic will be +the officiating priest. He, being a relation, will not refuse, will +he?" + +"No, certainly not. He may, of course, demur, but by his innuendoes +he led me to understand that he will be waiting for you." + +"He is a real Iugo Slav." + +Milenko and his father busied themselves at once about the great +ceremony. They went to all the relations and friends of the two +families, begging them, now that Uros was dead, to join with them in +taking the oath of revenge against Vranic, the murderer. + +Not a man that was asked refused. All shook hands, and promised to be +at Markovic's house that night, and from there accompany him to the +priest's. + +Night came on. Milenko's mother had gone to sit up with Mara and +Milena; Bellacic had remained to pray at his son's bedside, together +with the good monks. One by one the friends and relations of the +_pobratim_, muffled up like conspirators, knocked at Markovic's door, +and were stealthily allowed to enter. _Slivovitz_ and tobacco were at +once placed before the guests. When they were all gathered together, +and the town was asleep, they crept out quietly and wended their way +through the deserted streets to the priest's house. + +Milenko tapped at the door. + +"They are all asleep at this house," said one of the men; "you must +knock louder." + +Hardly had these words been uttered than a faint ray of light was +seen, and, contrary to their expectations, the door was opened by +Danilo himself. + +"Milenko! You, at this hour of the night? I thought you were at the +convent, reciting prayers over my nephew, your _pobratim_." + +"A _pobratim_ has other duties than praying--the holy monks can do +that even better than myself." + +"But I am keeping you standing at the door; what can I do for you?" + +"We have a request to make, which you will not be surprised at. You +must follow us to church." + +"To church, at this hour of the night?" + +"Yes. We wish--one and all here present--to take the oath of blood +against the murderer." + +"But, my children, think of what you are asking of me. Our religion +commands us to forgive our enemies. Christ----" + +"We are Slavs, Danilo Kvekvic," said one of the men. + +"But Christians, withal, I hope?" + +"Still, vengeance with us is a duty, a sacred duty." + +"I am the _pobratim_," quoth Milenko, "the brother of his choice. Did +I not swear before you to avenge any injury done to Uros, your +nephew? Do you wish me to forget my oath--to perjure myself?" + +"Mind, it is the priest, not the uncle, who speaks," said Danilo, +sternly; "therefore, remember that the _karva tajstvo_ is illegal by +the laws of our country." + +"By the laws of Austria," cried out several of the men, "not by the +laws of our country. We are Slavs, not Austrians." + +"Come, Danilo, we are men, not children; trifling is useless, words +are but lost breath in this matter," said Janko Markovic. "We are +losing time." + +"If you do not follow us with a good will----" + +"I see that you mean to carry out your intentions, and that preaching +is useless; therefore, I am ready to follow you." + +Saying this, he put his cap on his head, and opened the door. + +"And the key?" asked Milenko. + +"What key?" + +"The key of the church." + +"Why, I happen to have it in my pocket." + +The church being opened, what was their surprise to see it draped in +black; but Danilo Kvekvic explained that there had been a funeral +service on that very day, and so the church had remained in its +mourning weeds. + +Thereupon he shut and locked the doors. Some tapers were lighted on +the altar, and the priest, putting on his robes, began to read the +service. + +The few candles shed but a glimmering light in the sacred edifice, +and the small congregation, kneeling on the benches by the altar, +were wrapt in a gloomy darkness which added a horror to the mystery +of the ceremony. + +The service for the dead having been read, Kvekvic knelt and partook +of the Holy Communion; then, lighting two other tapers, he called the +congregation to him. All gathered at the foot of the altar, and knelt +down there. He then took up the chalice, where, according to the +Orthodox rites of the Communion, bread and wine were kneaded +together. Milenko, as the head of the avengers, went up to the altar, +and, bowing before the sacred cup containing the flesh and blood of +Jesus Christ, he made a slight cut in the forefinger of his left +hand, and then caused a few drops of his own blood to fall on the +Eucharist. He was followed by his father, and by all the other +partakers of the oath. When the last man had offered up a few drops +of blood, the priest mixed it up with the consecrated bread and wine +already in the cup. + +"Now," said he, with an inspired voice, "lift up your hands to +heaven, and repeat after me the following oath." + +All the men lifted up their hands, each one holding a piece of Uros' +blood-stained shirt, and then the priest began: + +"By this blessed bread representing the flesh of our Lord Jesus +Christ, by the wine that is His own blood, by the blood flowing from +our own bodies, for the sake of our beloved Uros Bellacic, heinously +murdered, and now sitting amongst the martyrs in heaven, and from +there addressing us his prayers, I, Milenko Markovic, his _pobratim_; +I, Janko Markovic, his father of adoption; I, Marko Lillic, his +cousin" (and so on), "all related or connected to him by the ties of +blood, or of affection, solemnly swear, in the most absolute and +irrevocable manner, not to give our souls any peace, or any rest to +our bodies, until the wishes of the blessed martyr be accomplished by +taking a severe revenge upon his murderer, Josko Vranic, of this +town, on his children (if ever he has any), or, in default, on any of +his relations, friends and acquaintances who might shelter, protect, +or withhold him from our wrath; and never to cease in our intention, +or flag in our pursuit, until we have obtained a complete and cruel +satisfaction, equal, at least, to this crime committed by this common +enemy of ours. We swear to God the Father, God the Son, and God the +Holy Ghost, that not one of us will ever try to evade the dangers his +oath may put him to, or will allow himself to be corrupted by gold or +bribes of the murderer or his family, or will listen with a pitiful +ear to the prayers, entreaties, or lamentations of the person or +persons destined to expiate the crime that has taken place; and, +though his kith-and-kin be innocent of the foul deed perpetrated by +their relation, Josko Vranic, we will turn a deaf ear to their words, +and only feel for them the horror that the deed committed awakes +within us. + +"We swear, moreover, by the blessed Virgin and by all the saints in +heaven, that should any of us here present forget the oath he has +taken, or break the solemn pact of blood, the others will feel +themselves bound to take revenge upon him, even as upon the murderer +of Uros Bellacic; and, moreover, the relations of the perjured man, +justly put to death, will not be able to exact the rites of the +_karvarina_." + +Thereupon, the men having taken the oath, the priest at the altar +sank down on his knees, and, uplifting the chalice, continued as +follows: + +"We pray Thee, omnipotent God, to listen to our oaths, and, moreover, +to help us in fulfilling them. We entreat Thee to punish the murderer +in his own person, and in that of his sons for seven successive +generations; to persecute them with Thy malediction, just as if they +themselves had committed the murder. We solemnly declare that we will +not consider Thee, O Lord, as just; Thee, O Lord, as saintly; Thee, O +Lord, as strong; nor shall we regard Thee, O Lord, as capable of +governing the world, if Thou dost not lend a listening ear to the +eager wishes of our hearts; for our souls are tormented with the +thirst for revenge." + +When they had all finished this prayer, if it can be called a prayer, +they, one by one, went and partook of that loathsome communion of +blood with all the respect and devotion Christians usually have on +approaching the Lord's Table. After that Danilo Kvekvic knelt down +once more, and uplifting his hands in supplication: + +"O Lord, Protector of the oppressed," said he, "Thou punishest all +those who transgress Thy wise laws and offend Thee, for Thou art a +jealous God. Help these parishioners of mine to fulfil an act of +terrestrial justice. Punish, with all Thy wrath, the perpetrator of +so abominable a crime; let him have no rest in this world, and let +his soul burn for ever in hell after his death; scatter his ashes to +the winds, and obliterate the very memory of his existence. Amen." + +"Amen," repeated every man after him. + +Thereupon he blessed them all; and coming down from the altar he +shook hands with each one, no more as a priest, but as a relation of +the murdered youth, and thanked them for the oath they had taken. + +The candles having been put out, the door of the church was +stealthily opened, and, one by one, all the men crept out and +vanished in the darkness of the night. + + + + +CHAPTER XX + +"SPERA IN DIO" + + +After the ceremony of the _karva tajstvo_, all the men who had taken +part in it met together at Janko Markovic's house, so as to come to a +decision as to what they were to do in their endeavours to capture +the murderer. All the information that had been got in Budua about +Vranic helped to show that he had embarked on board of an Italian +ship, the _Diana_, which had sailed the evening of the murder. If +this were the case, nothing could be done for the present but wait +patiently till they could come across him, the communications between +Budua and Naples being few and far between. + +"Well," said Milenko, "I'll sail at dawn for Trieste. It is one of +the best places where I can get some information about this ship. +Moreover, I'll do my best to get a cargo for one of the ports to +which she might be destined, and I must really be very unlucky not to +come across him before the year is out." + +"And," replied Janko Markovic, "if our information is wrong--if, +after all, he's still lurking in this neighbourhood, or hiding +somewhere in Montenegro, we shall soon get at him." + +"We have taken the oath," replied all the friends. + +"Thank you. I'm sure that Uros' death will very soon be avenged." + +_Slivovitz_ and wine were then brought out to drink to the success of +the _karva tajstvo_. + +At the first glimmer of dawn, Milenko bade his mother farewell and +asked her to kiss Mara and Milena for him; then, receiving his +father's blessing, and accompanied by all his friends, he left home +and went to the ship. + +All the cargo had been taken on board several days before, the papers +were in due order, and the ship was now ready to start at a moment's +notice. + +No sooner had Milenko got on board than the sleeping crew was roused, +the sails were stretched, the anchor was heaved, and the ship began +to glide on the smooth surface of the waters. + +"_Srecno hodi_" (a pleasant voyage), shouted the friends, applauding +on the pier. + +"_Z' Bogam_" (God be with you), replied Milenko. + +"_Zivio!_" answered the friends. + +The young captain saw the houses of Budua disappear, with a sigh. A +heaviness came over him as his eyes rested on a white speck gleaming +amidst the surrounding dark rocks. It was the Convent of St. George, +where, in his mind's eye, he could see his dearly beloved Uros lying +still and lifeless on his narrow bed. + +Then a deep feeling of regret came over him. Why had he rushed away, +when his friend had scarcely uttered his last breath? He might have +waited a day or two; Vranic would not escape him at the end. + +Never before--not even the first time he had left home--had he felt +so sad in quitting Budua. He almost fancied now his heart was reft in +two, and that the better part had remained behind with his friend. +Not even the thought of Ivanka, whom he so dearly loved, could +comfort him. A sailor's life--which had hitherto had such a charm for +him while his friend was on board the same ship with him--now lost +all its attraction, and if he had not been prompted by his craving +for revenge, he would have taken the ship to Trieste (where she was +bound to), and there, having sold his share, he would have gone back +to Budua. + +The days seemed endless to him. The crew of the ship, although +composed of Dalmatians, was almost of an alien race; they were from +the island of Lussin, and Roman Catholics besides--in fact, quite +different people from the inhabitants of Budua or the Kotor; and, had +it not been for a youth whom he had embarked with him from his native +town, he would have scarcely spoken to anyone the whole of the +voyage, except, of course, to give the necessary orders. + +No life, indeed, is lonelier than that of a captain having no mate, +boatswain or second officer with him. Fortunately, however, for +Milenko, Peric--the youth he had taken with him to teach him +navigation--was a rather intelligent lad, and, as it was the first +time he had left home, he was somewhat homesick, so, in their moments +of despondency, each one tried to cheer and comfort the other. + +In the night--keeping watch on deck--he would often, as in his +childhood, lean over the side of the ship and look within the fast +flowing waters. When the sea was as smooth and as dark as a metal +mirror, he--after gazing in it for some time--usually saw the water +get hazy and whitish; then, little by little, strange sights appear +and disappear. Some of them were prophetic visions. Once, he saw +within the waters a frigate on fire. It was, indeed, a sight worth +seeing. The vision repeated itself three times. Milenko, feeling +rather anxious, began to look around, and then he saw a faint light +far on the open sea. There was no land or island there. Could that +light, he asked himself, be that of a ship on fire? He at once gave +orders to steer in the direction of the light. As the distance +diminished, the brightness grew apace. The flames, that could now be +seen rising up in the sky, made the men believe that it was some new +submarine volcano. Milenko, however, felt that his vision had been +prophetic. + +He added more sails; and, as the breeze was favourable, the _Spera in +Dio_ flew swiftly on the waters. Soon he could not only see the +flames, but the hulk of the ship, which looked like a burning island; +moreover, the cargo must have been either oil or resin, for the sea +itself seemed on fire. + +In the glare the conflagration shed all around, Milenko perceived a +small boat struggling hard to keep afloat, for it was so over-crowded +that, at every stroke of the oars, it seemed about to sink. + +The joy of that shipwrecked crew, finding themselves safe on board +the _Spera in Dio_, was inexpressible. + +Another time he saw, within the sea, the country beyond the walls of +his native town. A boy of about ten was leading an old horse in the +fields. After some time, the boy seemed to look for some stump on +which to tether the horse he had led to pasture; but, finding none, +he tied the rope round his own ankle and lay down to sleep. Suddenly, +the old horse--frightened at something--began to run, the boy awoke +and tried to rise, but he stumbled and fell. His screams evidently +frightened the old horse, which ran faster and ever faster, dragging +the poor boy through the bushes and briars, dashing him against the +stones of the roadside. When, at last, the horse was stopped, the boy +was only a bruised and bleeding mass. + +"Oh," said Milenko to Peric, "I have had such a horrible vision!" + +"I hope it is not about my little brother," replied the youth. + +"Why?" + +"I really don't know; but all at once the idea came into my head that +the poor boy must have died." + +"Strange!" quoth Milenko, as he walked away, not to be questioned as +to his vision. + +One evening, when the moon had gone below the horizon looking like a +reaping-hook steeped in blood, and nothing could be seen all around +but the broad expanse of the dark waters, reflecting the tiny stars +twinkling in the sky above, Milenko saw, all at once, the white walls +of St. George's Convent. The doors, usually shut, were now opened. +Uros appeared on the threshold. There he received the blessing of the +old monk who had tended him during his illness, and whose hands he +now kissed with even more affection and thankfulness than devotion; +then, hugged and kissed by all the other caloyers, who had got to be +as fond of him as of a son or a brother, he bade them all farewell. +Then, leaning on Milena's arm, and followed by his father and mother, +he wended his way down the mountain and towards the town. Uros was +still thin and pale, but all traces of suffering had disappeared from +his face. Though he and Milena were man and wife--having been married +_in extremis_--still they were lovers, and his weakness was a +plausible pretext to lean lovingly on her arm, and stop every now and +then to look lovingly within her lustrous eyes, and thus give vent to +the passion that lay heavy on his heart; and once, when his parents +had disappeared behind a corner, he stopped, put his arm round her +waist, then their lips met in a long, silent kiss, which brought the +blood up to their cheeks. Then the picture faded, and the waters were +again as black as night; only, his ears whistled, and he almost +fancied he could hear Uros' voice in a distance speaking of him. + +Of course, Milenko knew that all this was but a delusion, a dream, a +hallucination of his fancy, and he tried to think of his friend lying +stiff and stark within his coffin; still, his imagination was unruly, +and showed him Uros at home alive and happy. + +These visions about his friend were all the same; thus, nearly three +weeks after he had left Budua, one evening, when sad and gloomy, he +was thinking of Uros' funeral, to which he now regretted not to have +remained and assisted, he saw, within the depths of the dark blue +sea, Bellacic's house adorned as for a great festivity. Not only was +a banquet prepared; _guzlars_ played on their instruments, and guests +arrived in holiday attire, but Uros, who had almost regained his +former good looks, was, in his dress of the Kotor, as handsome as a +_Macic_. Milena, as beautiful as when, in bridal attire, she had come +from Montenegro, was standing by his side. Soon Danilo Kvekvic came, +wearing a rich stole. The guests lighted the tapers they were +holding; wreaths were placed on Milena's and Uros' heads. This was +the wedding ceremony that would have taken place had Uros recovered +from his wound, and of which Milenko had certainly not been thinking. + +Milenko at last reached Trieste, where he found a letter waiting for +him. The news it contained would have made his heart beat rapidly +with joy had Uros only been with him. Now, reading this letter, he +only heaved a deep sigh. It was almost a sigh of forlorn hope. Fate +but too often, whilst granting us a most coveted boon, seems to feel +a malicious pleasure either in disappointing us entirely, or, at +least, in blunting the edge of our joy. This letter was from +Giulianic, who, having redeemed his pledge from his friend Bellacic, +was now but too glad to have him for his son-in-law. Moreover, he +urged him to come over to Nona. + +Nothing, indeed, prevented Milenko from consigning the ship to the +captain, who was waiting for him at Trieste, and selling his share of +the brig. Still, he could not think of doing so, or engaging himself, +or settling any time for his marriage before Uros' death had been +avenged. He, therefore, wrote at once to Giulianic, thanking him for +his kindness to him, stating, nevertheless, the reasons which obliged +him to postpone his marriage until the vows of the _karvarina_ had +been fulfilled. + +At Trieste, Milenko found out that the _Diana_, the ship on which +Vranic was embarked, was a Genoese brig, usually sailing to and from +the Adriatic and the Levant ports; occasionally, she would come as +far as Trieste or Venice, usually laden with boxes of oranges and +lemons, and sail back with a cargo of timber. It would have been easy +enough to have him apprehended by one of the Austrian consuls in the +ports where the _Diana_ might be bound to, but the vengeance of the +_karva tajstvo_ is not done by deputy nor confided to the police. + +At the shipbroker's to which the _Spera in Dio_ was consigned, +Milenko also found a letter from the captain, his partner in the +ship, saying that, far from coming to take charge of the ship, he was +inclined to sell his share; and Milenko, who was very anxious to be +free and to sail for those ports where he might easier come across +the _Diana_, bought the other half, and soon afterwards, having +managed to get a cargo of timber for Pozzuoli, he set sail without +delay, hoping to be in time to catch Vranic in Naples. + +Not far from the rocky island of Melada, which the Dalmatians say is +the Melita of the Scriptures, the _Spera in Dio_ met with very stormy +weather and baffling winds. Thereabouts one rough and cloudy night, +when not only Milenko but almost all the men were on deck, they all +at once saw a ship looming in the darkness at a short distance from +them. The captain had either forgotten to hoist a light, or else had +let it go out. When they perceived that dark shadow, only a little +darker than the surrounding night, they did their utmost to steer out +of her way. The other ship likewise seemed to try and tack about, but +driven as she was by a strong head-wind, it was quite impossible to +make her change her direction and avoid a collision. + +A few moments after the dark phantom was seen a loud crash was heard; +it was the groan of a monster falling with a thud upon his adversary, +felling him with his ponderous mass. The unknown ship had +unexpectedly come and butted against the _Spera in Dio_ amidships, +like a huge battering-ram, breaking the beams, shivering the planks, +cutting the harmless ship nearly in two, and allowing the waters to +pour in through the huge cleft. + +Some of the sailors managed to climb up the other ship; most of the +crew clung to the timber with which the ship was laden. Milenko +remained on the sinking wreck until dawn. + +The other ship--an Italian schooner--cruised about, and tried to +remain as much as she possibly could on the same spot, till early in +the morning, so as to pick up all the men of the wreck. Three of the +crew, however, must have been washed away, for they were not seen +anywhere, or ever afterwards heard of. + +The schooner, that had been also considerably damaged, sailed to +Trieste as well as she could. Fortunately for Milenko, the _Spera in +Dio_ had been insured for more than her value, and happening to find +another ship for sale, the _Giustizia di Dio_, he bought it, and, on +the whole, made a very good bargain. He soon got another cargo for +Naples, and, a month after his return, he once more sailed in search +of Vranic. + + + + +CHAPTER XXI + +FLIGHT + + +Vranic, having stabbed Uros, remained for a moment rooted to the spot +where he stood. When he saw the red blood gush out of the wound and +dye the white shirt, he stared at the young man bewildered; he could +hardly understand what he had done. A strange feeling came over him. +He almost fancied he was awaking from a horrid dream, and that he was +witnessing a deed done, not by himself, but by some person quite +unknown to him. When he saw Uros put his hand up to the wound, then +stagger, he was about to help him; but Milenko having appeared, he +shuddered, came to his senses and ran off. + +Vranic had always been cursed with a morbidly discontented +disposition, as peevish and as fretful as a porcupine. Although he +was superstitiously religious, and strictly kept all feasts and +fasts, still, at the same time, he felt a grudge--almost a hatred +--against God, who had made him so unlike other men; who, far from +granting him the boon of health to which he felt he had a right, had +stamped him with an indelible sign so that all might keep aloof from +him. He envied all the men he knew, for they laughed and were merry, +when he himself was as gloomy as a lonely spider in its dusty old +web. Still, as he vented the little energy that was in him in secret +rancour, he would never have harmed anybody. He had, it was true, cut +down Bellacic's vines, but had done so instigated by his friends, or +rather, by Bellacic's enemies. If he had stabbed Uros, it was really +done in a moment of madness, driven almost to despair by many +sleepless nights, by the shame and pain caused by the loss of his +ear. + +Having done that dreadful deed, he understood that the Convent of St. +George was no shelter for him. Besides, seeing Uros fall lifeless, +his first impulse was flight. It mattered little whither he went. It +was only after a short time when, breathless and faint, he stumbled +against a stone and fell, that the thought of finding some +hiding-place came into his head. + +He lurked amongst the rocks the whole of that day, terrified at the +slightest noise he heard, trembling with fear if a bird flew beside +him, startled at his own shadow. At times he almost fancied the +stones had eyes and were looking at him, and that weird, uncouth +shapes moved in the bushes below. + +He was not hungry, but his lips were parched, his mouth felt clammy +with thirst; still, there was not a drop of water to be had, nothing +but the hot sun from the sky above, and the glow of the scorching +stones from below. + +Then he asked himself again and again what he was to do and where he +was to go. + +Fear evoked a terrible bugbear in every imaginary path he took. If he +went back to Budua he would be murdered by his foes or arrested by +the Austrian police; Montenegro was out of the question. + +He had, by chance, seen during the day an Italian vessel ready to +sail. The ship was still at anchor in the bay, for he could see it +from his hiding-place. If he could only manage to get on board he +might be safe there. Once out of Budua, he cared but little +whithersoever chance sent him. + +The best thing he could do was to wait till nightfall, then to creep +stealthily into town. It was not likely that the murder was known to +everybody; if he could only get unseen to the _marina_ without +crossing the town, he then might get some boatman to row him to the +Italian ship. + +The day seemed to be an endless one, and even when the sun had set, +the red light of the after-glow struggled to keep night away. + +At last, when the shades of night fell upon the country, he began to +scramble down, avoiding the path and the high road, shuddering +whenever he caught the sound of a footstep, feeling sick if a +rustling leaf was blown down against him. At last he reached the +gates of the town, but instead of going in, he followed the walls, +and thus managed to get to the port. + +It was now quite dark; some fishermen were setting out for the night, +others were coming back home, laden with their prey. He kept aloof +from them all. + +After some time, he found a sailor lad sleeping in his boat. He shook +him and woke him, then he asked him to row him to the Italian ship +that was about to sail. + +The boy at first demurred, but the sight of a small silver coin +overcame all his drowsiness as well as his objections. He consented +to ferry him across. + +"Do you know what boat she is?" asked Vranic. + +"Yes." + +"Well?" + +"If you are going to her, I suppose you know her name, too." + +"Can't you answer a question?" said Vranic, snappishly. + +"She's the _Diana_." + +"From?" + +"Genoa, I believe." + +"And bound?" + +"To Naples; but Italian ships don't take Slavs on board," said the +lad. + +Vranic did not give him any answer. + +"Are you a sailor?" asked the boy, after a while. + +"No. I--I have some business in Italy." + +As soon as they were alongside the ship, Vranic called for the +captain. + +The master, who was having his supper on deck, asked him what he +wanted. + +"Are you bound for Naples?" + +"Yes." + +"Can you take me on board?" + +"As?" + +"As sailor? I'll work my way." + +"No. I have no need of sailors." + +"Then as a passenger?" + +"We are a cargo ship." + +"Still, if I make it worth your while?" + +"Our accommodation might not be such as would suit you." + +The captain suspected this man, who came to him in the midst of the +darkness asking for a passage, of having perpetrated some crime. He +felt sure that Budua was too hot a place for him, and that he was +anxious to get away. + +"I can put up with anything--a sack on deck." + +"Climb up," replied the captain. + +Vranic managed to catch the rope ladder, and, after much difficulty, +he climbed on board. + +The captain, seeing him and not liking his looks, felt confirmed in +his suspicions; therefore he asked him a rather large sum, at least +three times what he would have asked from anybody else. + +Vranic tried to haggle, but at last he paid the money down. The lad +with the boat disappeared; still, he only felt safe when--a few hours +afterwards--the anchor having been heaved, the sails spread, the ship +began to glide on the waters, and the dim lights of Budua disappeared +in the distance. + +The sea was calm, the breeze fair; the crossing of the Adriatic +seemed likely to be a prosperous one. + +A bed having been made up for him in the cabin, Vranic, weary and +worn out, lay down; and, notwithstanding all his torturing thoughts, +his mind, by degrees, became clouded and he went off to sleep. It is +true, he had hardly closed his eyes when he woke up again, thinking +of Uros as he had seen him when the blood was gushing out of his +wound; then a spectre even more dreadful to behold rose before his +eyes. It was the _voukoudlak_, from which he was escaping. Still, +bodily and mental fatigue overcame all remorse, and, feeling safe +from his enemies, he went off to sleep, and, notwithstanding a series +of dreadful dreams, he slept more soundly than he had done for many a +night. + +When he awoke the next morning, all trace of land had disappeared; +nothing was seen but the glittering waters of the blue sea and the +glowing sun overhead. He was safe; remorse had vanished with fear; he +only felt, not simply hungry, but famished. + +Everything went on well for two or three days. The smacking breeze +blew persistently. In a day more they hoped to reach Naples. The crew +had nothing to do but to mend old sails, to eat and sleep. They were +a merry set of men, as easily amused as children; besides, all of +them were wonderfully musical and possessed splendid voices. Gennaro, +the youngest, especially might have made a great fortune as a tenor. +In the evening they would sing all in a chorus, accompanying +themselves with a guitar, a mandoline and a triangle. + +Vranic, amongst them, was like an owl in an aviary of singing-birds; +besides, he knew but few words of Italian and could hardly understand +their dialect. Although his sleep was no more molested by vampires, +and he tried not to think of the crime he had committed, and almost +succeeded in driving away the visions that haunted him at times, +still he was anything but happy. Was he not an exile from his native +country, for, even if the Austrian law could be defeated, would not +the terrible _karvarina_ be exercised against him whenever he met one +of Bellacic's numerous friends? + +In this mood--wrapped in his gloomy thoughts--Vranic kept aloof from +every man on board. To the captain's questions he ever answered in +monosyllables; nor was he more talkative with the sailors. Once they +asked him to tell them a story of his country, and he complied. + +"Shall I tell you the story of the youth who was going to seek his +fortune?" + +"Yes; it must be a very interesting one." + +"Well--a youth was going to seek his fortune." + +"And then?" + +"The night before he was about to leave his village a storm destroyed +the bridge over which he had to pass." + +"Well--and then?" + +"He waited till they built another bridge." + +"But go on." + +"There is no going on, for the young man is waiting still," said he, +with a sneer. + +After two or three days, Vranic was looked upon by all on board as a +peevish, sullen fellow, and he was left to his own dreary +meditations. + +One of the sailors, besides, got it into his head that Vranic had the +gift of the evil eye, and it did not take very long to convince every +man on board of the truth of this assertion. Whenever he looked at +them, they invariably shut their two middle fingers, and pointed the +index and little finger at him, so as to counteract the effect of the +_jettatura_. The only man on board who did not fear Vranic was the +mate, for he possessed a charm far more potent than a crooked nail, a +horse-shoe, a bit of horned coral, or even a little silver +hump-backed man--this was a horse-chestnut, which he was once +fortunate enough to catch as it was falling from the tree, and before +it had touched the ground. He cherished it as a treasure, and kept it +constantly in his pocket. It was infallible against the evil eye, and +was powerful in many other circumstances. He was a most lucky man, +and, in fact, he felt sure he owed his good fortune to this talisman +of his. + +Although the weather was delightful, still the captain and the crew +could not help feeling a kind of premonition of evil to come; all +were afraid that, sooner or later, Vranic would bring them ill-luck. +At last the coasts of Italy were in sight, but with the far-off +coasts, a small cloud, a mere speck of vapour, was seen on the +horizon. It was but a tiny white flake, a soft, silvery spray, torn +from some shrub blossoming in an unknown Eden, and blown by the west +wind in the sky. It also looked like a patch worn by coquettish +Nature to enhance the diaphanous watchet-blue of the atmosphere. +Still, the sailors frowned at it, and called the feathery cloudlet +--scudding lazily about--a squall, and they were all glad to be in +sight of the land. The breeze freshened, the sea changed its colour, +the waves rolled heavily; their tops were crested with foam. Still, +the ship made gallantly for the neighbouring coast. + +The little cloud kept increasing in size; first it lengthened itself +in a wonderful way, like a snake spreading itself out; it also grew +of a darker, duller tint. Then it rolled itself together, piled +itself up, augmenting in volume, till it almost covered the whole of +the horizon. Finally, it began to droop downwards, tapering ever +lower, and losing itself in a mist. The sea underneath began to be +agitated, to boil and to bubble, seething with white foam; then a +dense smoke arose from the sea and mounted upwards as if to meet the +descending column of mist from the cloud just above it; both the +cloud and the upheaving waves moved with the greatest rapidity, and +seemed to be attracted by the ship, which endeavoured to tack about +and steer away from them. + +All at once, the water overhead met the ascending mist, and then a +sparkling, silvery cloud arose in the spout, just like quicksilver in +a glass tube. + +All the men were on deck, attending to the captain's directions; all +eyes were attracted by the weird, beautiful, yet terrifying sight. +The master, at the helm, did his best to avoid it, by changing the +ship's direction; still, the column of water advanced threateningly +in their course. It came nearer and ever nearer; now it was at a +gun-shot from the ship; if they had had a cannon on board, they might +have fired against it and dissolved it, but they had no firearms. The +atmosphere around them was getting dark with mist, the waterspout was +coming against them, and if that mass of water burst down on the ship +it would founder at once. + +What was to be done? + +"Leave the ship, and take to the boats," said some of the crew, but +it was already too late; they could not help being involved in the +cataclysm. + +Some of the men had sunk on their knees, and were asking the Virgin +or St. Nicholas of Bari to come to their help. + +"There is a remedy," said Vranic to the captain; "an infallible +remedy." + +"What is it?" asked the master, with the eagerness of a drowning man +clutching at a straw. + +"If a sailor amongst the crew happens to be the eldest of seven sons +he can at once dissolve that cursed column of water, the joint work +of the evil spirits of the air and those of the sea." + +"How so?" asked the captain. + +"Draw, at once, a pentagon, or five-pointed star, or King Solomon's +seal, on a piece of white paper, and let such a sailor, if he be on +board, stab it through the centre." + +The captain called all the men together, and asked if anyone amongst +them happened to be, by chance, the eldest of seven brothers. + +"My father has seven sons, and I am the eldest," said Gennaro, that +curly-headed, bright-eyed Sicilian youth, for whom life seemed all +sunshine. "Why, what am I to do?" + +The waterspout was advancing rapidly, the sea was lashed by the +mighty waves, and the ship, like a nutshell, was being tossed against +it. + +Vranic, who had drawn the cabalistic sign, handed it to the captain. + +"Stab that star in the centre, quickly." + +The Slav took out a little black dagger, and gave it to the youth. + +"Be quick! there is no time to be lost." + +The murmuring and hissing sound the column of water had been making +had changed into the deafening roar of a waterfall. It seemed to be +whirling round with vertiginous rapidity, as it came upon them. + +"Make haste!" added the captain. + +"But why?" + +"Do it! this is no time to ask questions!" replied the master. + +"And then?" quoth the youth, turning to Vranic. + +"The waterspout will melt into rain." + +"And what will happen to me?" + +"To you? Why, nothing." + +"I am frightened." + +A vivid flash of lightning appeared, and the rumbling of the thunder +now mingled itself with the roaring of the waters. + +"Frightened of what?" said the captain. + +"That man has the _jettatura_; I am sure he means mischief." + +"What a coward you are! Do what I order you, or, by the Madonna----" + +"What harm can befall you for stabbing a bit of paper?" said some of +the sailors. + +"Quick! it is the only chance of saving us all!" added the boatswain. + +"Only, if you don't make haste, it'll be too late." + +The abyss of the waters seemed to open before the ship, ready to +engulf it; the waves were rolling over it. + +Gennaro crossed himself devoutly, then he muttered a prayer; at last +he took up the dagger and stabbed the pentagon in the very middle, +just where Vranic had pointed to him with his finger; still, he grew +ghastly pale as he did so. + +"Holy Mother," said the youth, "forgive me if I have done wrong!" + +All the eyes anxiously turned from the bit of paper to the +waterspout, whirling round and coming ever nearer. + +All at once the whirling seemed to stop; then, as the motion relaxed, +the column of water snapped somewhat above the middle; the lower +portion, or base, relapsed and gradually fell; it was absorbed by the +rising waves and the bubbling and foaming waters. The higher portion +began to curl upwards and to disappear amidst the huge mass of +lowering clouds overhead. + +"There," said Vranic, "I told you the spout would melt away and +vanish." + +"Wonderful!" said the captain. + +"Yes, indeed!" said Gennaro, as he again crossed himself and handed +the dagger to its owner, evidently glad to get rid of it. + +"Well, you see that you were not struck dead," said the boatswain to +the youth. + +"Nor carried away by the devil," said another of the sailors. + +"The year is not yet out, nor the day either," thought Vranic to +himself; "and even if you live, you may rue this day and the deed +you've done." + +"You have saved all our lives, and we thank you, Gennaro," added the +captain. "I shall never forget you; and I hope that, as long as I +command a ship, we'll never part." + +Thereupon, he clasped him in his arms and kissed him fondly. + +"Thank you, captain; and may San Gennaro, my patron saint, and the +blessed Virgin, grant you your wish and mine." + +"We thank you, too," said the captain to Vranic, feeling himself +bound to say something; "you are really a magician, and you know the +secret of the elements." + +"Oh! it is a thing that every child knows in our country, just like +pouring oil in the sea to calm the waves." + +The men said nothing, but they were all glad the coasts were near, +and that they would soon get rid of this uncanny and uncouth man. + +In the meanwhile, the sun had gone down, and dark night spread itself +like a pall over the sea. The storm then increased with the darkness. +The waterspout had vanished, but in its stead a pouring rain came +down; the wind also began to blow in fitful blasts, and as it came in +a contrary direction they were obliged to tack about, and to take in +the sails. The storm, however, kept increasing at a fearful rate; the +wind was blowing a real hurricane; all sails, even the jib, had to be +reefed. The sea, lashed by the wind, became ever more boisterous; the +waves rose in succession, uplifting themselves the one on top of the +other, and dashing against the ship, which ever seemed ready to +founder. All hands were now at the pumps, and Vranic, along with the +others, worked away with all his strength. + +Steering--as the ship had done--to avoid the waterspout, she had been +continually altering her course, so that the captain did not exactly +know whereabouts they were. In the midst of the darkness and with the +torrents of rain that came pouring down, all traces of land had long +disappeared. + +All at once a mightier gust of wind came down upon the ship, the +beams groaned, then there was a tremendous crash and one of the masts +came down. There was a moment of panic and confusion; Vranic fell +upon his knees and began to pray for help. + +Soon after that a light was seen at no very great distance. + +"We are saved," said the captain; "there is Cape Campanella +lighthouse." + +All eyes were fixed upon that beacon. + +"It is rather too low to be Cape Campanella," added the boatswain. + +"Yes; and, besides, it flashes every two minutes," replied the +captain. + +They thereupon concluded that it was the lighthouse on Carena Point, +the south-western extremity of the island of Capri. + +Thinking it to be Cape Campanella, they had steered towards the +light--the only dangerous part of the island, on account of the reef, +which stretches out a long way into the sea. When they found out +their mistake it was too late to avoid the danger that threatened +them; the ship was dashed against the rocks, which were heard grating +under the keel and ripping open the sides, like the teeth of some +famished monster of the deep. Fortunately, the brig had got tightly +wedged between two rocks and kept fast there, so nothing was to be +done but work hard at the pumps, trying to keep out as much water as +they possibly could. + +The night seemed everlasting. Still, by degrees, the storm subsided, +and at dawn the wind had gone down and the sea had grown calm. + +At daybreak help came from the shore. + +"The ship is very much damaged," said the captain, "and so is the +cargo, doubtless; but, at least, there are no lives lost," added he, +looking round. + +A few moments afterwards, the boatswain, wanting something, called +Gennaro, but no answer came. He called again and again, cursed his +canine breed, but with no better success. + +"Where is Gennaro?" asked the captain. + +The youth was sought down below, but he was nowhere to be found. All +the men of the crew looked at one another enquiringly, and at last +the questions that everyone was afraid to ask were uttered. + +Had the youth been swept away by one of the huge breakers that washed +over the deck? Had he been killed by the falling mast, or blown into +the deep by a sudden and unexpected gust of wind? No one had seen him +disappear; all looked around, expecting to see the handsome face of +the youth they loved so well rising above the waves; but the green +waters kept their secret. After that, all eyes turned towards Vranic, +as if asking for an answer. + +"The last time I saw the youth was when he was working at the pumps +by me, just before the mast came down." + +They all muttered some oath, unintelligible to him, and then a prayer +for the youth. After that Vranic was only too glad to leave the ship, +for every man on board seemed to look upon him as the cause of +Gennaro's mysterious disappearance. + +Having remained a week in Naples, seeing his money, the only thing he +loved, dwindle away, Vranic did his best to find some employment. He +for a few days got a living as a porter, helping to unload sacks from +an English ship. Still, that was but a very precarious living, and he +decided to follow a seafaring life, not because he was fond of it, +but only to keep clear from his enemies and the laws of his country, +and the vampire that had haunted him there every night. + +He happened to find employment, as cook, on the very ship he had +helped to discharge. It was an English schooner, bound for Glasgow. +The captain, a crusty old bachelor, was a real hermit-crab; the men, +a most ruffianly set. Vranic, being hardly able to speak with anyone, +indulged in his morose way of living, and, except for being kicked +about every now and then, he was left very much to himself. + +From Glasgow the schooner sailed for Genoa, where she arrived just as +the _Giustizia di Dio_ was about to set sail. The two ships came so +close together that Vranic, who kept a sharp look-out whenever he saw +an Austrian flag, recognised Milenko standing on the deck and +ordering some manoeuvres. + +Although the young man could not perceive him, hidden as he was in the +darkness of the galley, and bending over the stove, still Vranic felt +a shock that for a few moments almost deprived him of his senses, and +made him feel quite sick. + +That day the dinner was quite a failure. The roast was burnt; the +potatoes, instead, were raw; the cauliflower was uneatable, and salt +had been put in the pudding instead of sugar. + +If there is anything trying to human patience, it is a spoilt dinner, +especially the first one gets in port. It is, therefore, not to be +wondered at that the captain, never very forbearing at the best of +times, got so angry that he kicked Vranic down the hatchway and +almost crippled him. + +Although the Dalmatian ship sailed away, bound probably towards the +East, and he would perhaps never see her captain again, still the +shock he felt had quite unnerved him. From that day matters began to +go on from bad to worse. Sailing from Genoa, they first met with +contrary winds, and much time was lost cruising about; after that +came a spell of calm weather, and for long weeks they remained in +sight of the bold promontory and of the lighthouse of Cape Bearn, not +far from the port of Vendres. At last a fair wind arose, the sails +were made taut, and the schooner flew on the crested waves. A new +life seemed to have come over the crew, tired of their listless +inactivity; the captain cursed Vranic and kicked him a little less +than he had done on the previous days. + +It was to be hoped that the wind would continue fair; otherwise their +provisions would begin falling short. Ill-luck, however, was awaiting +them in another direction. + +Opening a keg of salted meat a few days later, the stench was so +loathsome, that it reminded Vranic of that awful night when he had +stabbed the vampire; besides, big worms were crawling and wriggling +at the top. Vranic at once called the mate and showed him the rotten +meat, and the mate reported the fact to the captain. He only answered +with a few oaths, then shrugged his shoulders, and said that dogs +would lick their chops at such dainty morsels, and were his men any +better than dogs? + +"Wash it well, clean it, and put some vinegar with it," said the +mate, who was the best man on board. "There is no other meat, and +that is better than starving." + +Vranic did as he was bid; he put more pepper than usual. Still, he +himself did not taste it, but lived on biscuit, for even the potatoes +had been all eaten up. + +A few days afterwards, taking out another piece from the cask, he +drew out a sinewy human arm, hacked in several places, and with the +fingers chopped off. Shuddering, and seized with a feeling of +loathsomeness, he stood for a moment bewildered. Then he almost +fancied he had touched something hairy in the cask, and looking in, +he saw a disfigured and bearded man's head. Sickening at the gruesome +sight, he dropped the arm into the cask and hastened to the mate, +trying to explain to him what the barrel contained. + +The mate could hardly understand and would not believe him, but soon +he had to yield to the evidence of his own senses. The mate, in his +turn, reported the horrible fact to the captain, who asked both men +not to divulge the secret to the crew. When night came on, the cask +and its contents were thrown overboard. The captain was not to blame +for what the cask contained, nor were the ship-chandlers, who had +supplied him at other times upon leaving Scotland. The cask bore the +trade-mark of a well-known foreign house trading in preserved meat. + +The provisions, which had been scarce, now began to fall short; but +in a day or two they would have reached their destination. The wind, +however, was contrary, and some delay ensued. Hunger was now +beginning to be felt. The crew, overworked and badly fed, first grew +sullen; the foremost of them, with scowling looks, began to utter +threatening words. Orders given were badly obeyed, or not obeyed at +all. Long pent-up anger seemed every moment ready to break out--first +against the captain, then against the mate, finally against Vranic, +who, they said, was leagued against them. + +The boatswain especially hated him. + +"Since that cursed foreigner has come on board," said he, "everything +has been going from bad to worse. Even the provisions seem to dwindle +and waste away." + +"I'd not be surprised," added one of the sailors, "that he is leagued +with the captain to poison the whole lot of us, for, in fact, the +meat tasted like carrion, and I don't know what's up with me." + +"Nonsense! Why poison us? Starving is much better," quoth another. + +A trifle soon brought on a quarrel, which ended in a tussle. Vranic +got cuffed and kicked about; he had been born in an unlucky moment, +and everyone hated him without really understanding why or wherefore. + +Why do most people dislike toads or blind-worms? + +The mate, seeing the poor cook unfairly used, interfered on his +behalf, and tried to put an end to the fight. This only made matters +worse. The captain, hearing the noise, appeared on deck, and a mutiny +at once broke out. + +The boatswain, who was at the head of the revolted crew, snatching up +a hatchet which happened to be there within his reach, advanced and +demanded a distribution of provisions. + +The captain, for all answer, knocked him down with a crow-bar; at the +same time he showed the crew the coast of England, which was faintly +visible at a distance, as well as a man-of-war coming full sail +towards them. + +A day after this incident, the ship had landed her rebellious crew at +Cardiff. The boatswain was sent to jail, where, if he had been a man +of a philosophical turn of mind, he might have meditated on the +difference between right and might. + +As for Vranic, he was but too glad to quit a ship where he was hated +by everybody, even by the captain, who had treated him more like a +galley slave than a fellow-creature. + +After having earned a pittance as a porter for a short time, he again +embarked on board the _Ave Maria_, an Austrian ship bound for +Marseilles. This ship had had a remarkably prosperous voyage from the +Levant. The captain had received a handsome gratuity, and now a cargo +had been taken at a very high freight; therefore, from the captain to +the cabin-boy, every man on board was merry and worked with a good +will. + +Although the weather was bleak, rainy and foggy, still the wind blew +steadily; moreover, the _Ave Maria_ was a good ship, and a fast +sailer, withal she laboured under a great disadvantage, that of being +overladen, and was, consequently, always shipping heavy seas. + +On leaving Cardiff, the captain found that two of the sailors, who +had been indulging in excesses of every kind whilst on shore, were in +a bad state of health. A third sickened a few days afterwards, and +for a long time all three were quite unfit for work. Still, the ship +managed to reach Marseilles without any mishap. + +The cargo was unloaded, a fresh one was taken on board; the men +received medical assistance, and seemed to be recovering. On leaving +Marseilles, matters went from bad to worse; the captain, his mate, +and two other sailors fell ill. + +"It seems," said the captain, "as if someone has the gift of the evil +eye, for, since we left England, ill-luck follows in our wake." + +The crew was, therefore, greatly diminished, for the three men, who +had been recovering, were now, on account of improper food and +overwork, quite ill again. + +On leaving Marseilles they met with heavy gales and baffling squalls +of wind; the ship began to pitch heavily, then to labour and strain +in such a way that, overladen as she was, the pestilence-stricken +crew could hardly manage her. For three days the wind blew with such +violence that two men had to be constantly kept at the helm. +Moreover, she shipped so many seas that hands had to be always at the +pumps. The very first day the waves had washed away the coops; then, +at last, the jib-boom and the bowsprit shrouds had been broken loose +and torn away by the grasp of the storm. + +At last the storm subsided, and then the captain ascertained that the +ship had sustained such damage as to render her unsafe. In such a +predicament, with the crew all ailing, the captain deemed it +necessary to go back to Marseilles for repairs. + +After a short stay there, the _Ave Maria_ set sail again for Palermo, +where she arrived without further mishap; only the sick sailors, +having had to work hard during the storm, were rather worse than +better. On leaving Palermo two other men of the crew had to be put on +the sick-list, so that by the time they reached the Adriatic the ship +was not much better than a pestiferous floating hospital. In fact, +the only ones who had escaped the loathsome contagion were Vranic and +the two boys, and they had to do the work of the whole crew. + +It was fortunate that, notwithstanding the stormy season of the year, +the weather kept steadily fair, for, in case of a hurricane, the crew +would have been almost helpless. At last land was within sight; the +hills of Istria were seen, towards evening, as a faint greyish line +on the dark grey sky. The captain and the men heaved a sigh of +relief; that very night they would cast anchor in the port of +Trieste. There some had their homes; all, at least, had relations or +friends. Vranic alone hoped to meet no one he knew. + +That evening they made a hearty meal, for, as their provisions had +slightly begun to fall short, they had scarcely satisfied their +hunger for several days; but now--almost within sight of the +welcoming, flashing rays of the Trieste lighthouse--they could, +indeed, be somewhat prodigal. + +The sirocco, which had accompanied them all the way from Palermo, now +fell all at once, just as they had reached the neighbourhood of Cape +Salvore. That sudden quietness boded nothing good. Soon, the captain +perceived that the wind was shifting in the Gulf of Trieste. By +certain well-known signs, he argued that the north-easterly wind was +rising; and soon afterwards, a fierce _bora_, the scourge of all the +neighbourhood, began to blow. + +Orders were at once given to reef the topsails; then they began to +tack about, so as to come to an anchorage in the roads of Trieste as +soon as possible. + +With the want of hands, the work proceeded very slowly and clumsily. +Night came on--dark, dismal night--amidst a howling wind and raging +billows dashing furiously against the little ship. It was a comfort +on the next morning to see the white houses and the naked hills of +Trieste; for they were not far from the port. Every means was tried +to get near the land without being dashed against it and stranded, or +split against the rocks; but the fierce wind baffled all their +efforts. And the whole of the day was passed in uselessly tacking +about and ever being driven farther off in the offing. Still, late in +the afternoon, they managed to get nearer the port, and at sunset +both anchors were dropped, not far from the jetty; still, the violence +of the wind was such that all communication with the land was +rendered impossible. That evening the last provisions were eaten, for +they had spent the whole day fasting. The strength of the gale +increased with the night. More chain was then added; but still the +anchors began to come home. By degrees, all the chains were paid out; +and, nevertheless, the ship was drifting. In so doing, she struck her +helm against a buoy. The shock caused one of the chains, which was +old and rusty, to snap. After that, the _Ave Maria_ was driven back +bodily towards the coasts of Istria, till finding, at last, a better +bottom, the anchor held and the ship was stopped at about a mile from +Punta Grossa, not far from Capo d'Istria. There was no moon; the sky +was overcast; the darkness all around was oppressive. The huge +surges, dashing against the bows and the forecastle, washed away +everything on deck. The boats themselves were rendered unserviceable. +The thermometer had fallen eighteen degrees in two days, and the +keen, sharp wind blowing rendered the cold most intense. A fringe of +icicles was hanging down from the sides of the ship, the spray froze +on the tackle, and rendered the ropes as hard as iron cables. + +Then the ship sprung a leak, and the pumps had to be worked to +prevent her from sinking. To keep the men alive, the captain opened a +pipe of Marsala which had been destined for the shippers. That night, +which seemed everlasting, finally wore away, dawn came, and the +signal of distress was hoisted; a ship passed at no great distance, +but took no notice of them. Anyhow, help could be expected from +Trieste; the coastguards must have seen them struggling against the +storm. That day the wind increased; not a ship, not a sailing-boat +was to be seen in the offing; what a long, dreary day of baffled hope +that was. When evening came on, the fasting crew, now completely +fagged out, began to lose courage, and yet they were but a few miles +from the coast. That night Vranic had a dreadful vision. When he took +his place at the pump, opposite him, at the other handle, stood the +vampire grinning at him, with the horrible gash in his cheek. That +gruesome sight was too dreadful to be borne; he felt his arms getting +stiff, and he fell fainting on the deck. He only recovered his senses +when a huge wave came breaking against the deck and almost washed him +overboard. + +In the morning the wind began to abate; but now all the sailors were +not only thoroughly exhausted, but all more or less in a state of +intoxication. The pumps could hardly be worked any more; even Vranic, +the boys and the captain, who had worked to the last, hoping to save +their lives, were obliged to leave the vessel to sink. + +The _Ave Maria_ was going down rapidly, and now, even if the men +could have worked, it was impossible to think of saving her; she was +to be the prey of the waves. As for help from Trieste, it was useless +looking out for it. Still, the titled gentlemen, in their warm and +cosy offices of the _See-Behörde_, which fronted the harbour, had +seen the ship fighting against the wind and the waves. They knew, or, +at least, ought to have known, of her distress; but it was carnival +time, and their thoughts were surely not with the ships at sea. + +At last, at eight o'clock, a ship was seen, and signals of distress +were made. The ship answered, and began tacking about and trying to +come near the sinking craft. When within reach of hearing, the whole +crew of the _Ave Maria_ summoned up all their strength and shouted +that they were starving. + + + + +CHAPTER XXII + +THE "GIUSTIZIA DI DIO" + + +Since his departure, Milenko had never received any letters from his +parents, for, in those times of sailing-ships, captains got news from +home casually, by means of such fellow-countrymen as they chanced to +meet, rather than through the post. Lately they had happened to come +across a Ragusian ship at Brindisi, but, as this ship had left Budua +only a short time after Milenko himself had sailed, all the +information the captain could give was rather stale. As for Vranic, +nothing had been heard of him these many months. + +Peric (the youth sailing with Milenko) heard, however, that the +forebodings he had had concerning his brother were but too well +founded; the poor boy had been killed while taking care of his +father's horse. Still, the man who told him the news did not know, or +had partly forgotten, all the details of the dreadful accident, for +all he remembered was that the poor child had been brought home to +his mother a mangled, bleeding corpse. + +Milenko then seemed again to see the vision he had witnessed within +the waters, and he could thus relate to the poor boy all the +particulars of the tragic event. + +Poor Peric cried bitterly, thinking of the poor boy he had been so +fond of, and whom he would never see again; then, having somewhat +recovered from his grief: + +"It is very strange," said he, "that, on the very night on which you +saw my brother dragged by the horse, I heard a voice whispering in my +ear: 'Jurye is dead!' and then I fancied that the wind whistling in +the rigging repeated: 'Jurye is dead!' and that same phrase was +afterwards lisped by the rushing waters. Just then, to crown it all, +I looked within the palm of my hand--why, I really do not know; but +that, as you are aware, brings about the death of the person we love +most. At that same moment a cold shivering came over me, and I felt +sure that my poor brother was dead. All this is very strange, is it +not?" + +"Not so very strange, either," replied Milenko; "the saints allow us +to have an inkling of what is to happen, so that when misfortune does +come, we are not crushed by it." + +"Oh! we all knew that one of our family would die during the year; +only, as I was going to sea, I thought that I might be the one +who----" + +"How did you know?" asked Milenko. + +"Because, when our grandmother died, her left eye remained open; and, +although they tried to shut it, still, after a while, the lids parted +again, and that, you well know, is a sure sign that someone of the +house would follow her during the year." + +The youth remained thoughtful for a little while, and then he added: + +"I wonder how my poor mother is, now that she has lost both her +sons." + +"We shall soon have news from home, for, if the weather does not +change, to-morrow we shall be in Trieste, where letters are surely +awaiting us." + +"Do you ever have voices whispering in your ears?" asked Peric. + +"No, never; do you?" + +"Very often, especially when I keep very still and try to think of +nothing at all, just as if I were not my own self, but someone else." + +"Try and see if you can hear a voice now." + +The youth remained for some time perfectly still, looking as if he +were going off into a trance; when he came to himself again: + +"I did hear a voice," said he. + +"What did it say?" + +"That to-morrow you will meet the man you have been looking for." + +"Nothing else?" + +"Nothing." + +"Is it not imagination?" + +"Oh, no! besides, poets often hear the voice of the moon, who tells +them all the stories they write in their books." + +"Do they?" quoth Milenko, smiling. + +"Yes; do you not know the story of 'The Snowdrop,' that Igo Kas heard +whilst he was seated by a newly-dug grave?" + +"No, I never heard it." + +"Then I'll read it to you, if you like." + +Milenko having nothing better to do, listened attentively to the +youth's tale. + + +THE SNOWDROP. + +A Slav Story. + +The last feathery flakes of snow, fallen in the night, had not yet +melted away, when the first snowdrop, which had sprung up in the +dark, glinted at the dawning sun. A drop of dew, glistening on the +edge of its half-opened leaves, looked like a sparkling tear. That +dainty little flower, as white as the surrounding snow, had sprouted +up beside a newly-dug grave. As I stooped down to pick the little +snowdrop, I saw the words inscribed on the white marble slab, and +then sorrow's heavy hand was laid upon my heart. The name was that of +the Countess Anya Yarnova, a frail flower of early spring, as +spotless as the little snowdrop. + +What had been the cause of her sudden death? Was it some secret +sorrow? Was it her love for that handsome stranger whose flashing +eyes revealed the hunger of his heart? + +At gloaming I was again beside the newly-opened grave. The sun had +set, the birds in the bushes were hushed; the breeze, that before +seemed to be the mild breath of spring, began to blow in fitful, cold +blasts. + +The round disc of the moon now rose beyond the verge of the horizon, +and its mild, amber light fell upon the marble monument of the +Yarnova family, almost hidden under a mass of white roses, camellias +and daffodils, made up in huge wreaths. + +Mute and motionless, I sat for some time musing by the tomb; then at +last, looking up at + + "That orbed maiden, with white fire laden, + Whom mortals call the Moon," + +I said: + + "Tell me, Moon, thou pale and grey + Pilgrim of Heaven's homeless way," + +didst thou know young Countess Yarnova, so full of life a few days +ago, and now lying there in the cold bosom of the earth? Tell me what +bitter and unbearable grief broke that young heart; speak to me, and +I shall listen to thy words as to the voice of my mother, when, in +the evening, she whispered weird tales to me while putting me to +sleep. + +A loud moan seemed to arise from the tomb, and then I heard a voice +as silvery sweet as the music of the spheres, lisp softly in my +ear:-- + + +Passing by the Yarnova Castle three days ago, I peeped within its +casements, and, in a dimly-lighted hall, I saw Countess Yadviga, who +had just returned from Paris. She wore a black velvet dress, and her +head was muffled in a lace mantilla; although her features twitched +and she was sad and careworn, still she looked almost as young and +even handsomer than her fair daughter. + +Presently, as she sat in the dark room, the door was opened; a page +stepped in, drew aside the gilt morocco portière emblazoned with the +Yarnova arms, and ushered in the handsome stranger, Aleksij Orsinski. + +The Baron looked round the dimly-lighted room for a while. At last he +perceived the figure of the Countess as she sat in the shadow of the +huge fire-place; then he went up to her and bowed. + +"Thank you, Countess Yarnova, for snatching yourself away from +beautiful Paris and coming in this dismal place." + +The figure in the high-backed arm-chair bowed slightly, and without +uttering a single word, motioned the stranger to a seat at a short +distance. The Baron sat down. + +"Thank you especially for at last giving your consent to my marriage +with the beautiful Anya." + +The Baron waited for a reply, but as none came, he went on: + +"Although her guardian hinted that Anya was somewhat too young for +me, still I know she loves me; and as for myself, I swear that +henceforth the aim of my life will be that of making her happy." + +The Baron, though sixteen years older than his childlike bride, was +himself barely thirty; he was, moreover, a most handsome man--tall, +stalwart, with dark flashing eyes, a long flowing moustache, a mass +of black hair, and a remarkably youthful appearance. He waited again +a little while for an answer, but the mother did not speak. + +The large and lofty hall in which they were, with its carved stalls +jutting out of the wainscot, looked far more like a church than a +habitable room; the few fantastic oil lamps seemed like stars shining +in the darkness, while the mellow light of the moon, pouring in from +the mullioned windows, fell on the Baron's manly figure, and left the +Countess in the dark. + +As no answer came, the stranger, at a loss what to say, repeated his +own words: + +"Yes, all my days will be devoted to the happiness of our child." + +"Our child?" said the Countess at last, with a slight tremor in her +voice. + +The Baron started like a man roused in the midst of a dream. + +"Your daughter I mean, Countess." + +Seized by a strange feeling of oppression, which he was unable to +control, the Baron, in his endeavour to overcome it, began to relate +to the mother how he had met Anya by chance, how he had fallen in +love with her the very moment he had seen her, how from that day she +had engrossed all his thoughts, for, from their first meeting, her +image had haunted him day and night. + +"In fact," added he, "it was the first time I had loved, the very +first." + +"The first?" echoed the voice in the dark. + +The strong man trembled like an aspen leaf. Those two words coming +from that dark, motionless figure, sitting at some distance, seemed +to be a voice from the tomb, an echo from the past; that past which +never buries its dead. To get over his increasing nervousness the +Baron began to speak with greater volubility: + +"In my early youth, or rather in my childhood I should say," added +he, "I did love once----" + +"Once?" repeated the voice. + +The Baron started again and stopped. Was it Anya's mother who spoke, +or was there an echo in that room? Still, he went on: + +"Yes, once I loved, or, at least, thought myself in love." + +"Thought?" added the voice. + +That repetition was getting unbearable; anyhow, he tried not to heed +it. + +"Well, Countess, it was only a childish fancy, a boy's infatuation; +at sixteen, I was spoony on a girl two years younger than myself, +just about the age my Anya is now. Fate parted us; I grieved a while; +but, since I saw your daughter, I understood that I had never loved +before, no, never!" + +"Never before--no, never!" uttered the woman in the dark. + +The Baron almost started to his feet; that voice so silvery clear, so +mournfully sweet, actually seemed to come from the far-off regions +from where the dead do not return. After a short silence, only +interrupted by two sighs, he went on: + +"There were, of course, other loves between the first and the last +--swift, evanescent shadows, leaving no traces behind them. And now +that I have made a full confession of my sins, Countess, can I not +see my Anya?" + +"Your Anya?" + +This was carrying a joke rather too far. + +"Well, my fiancee?" said he, rather abruptly. + +"No, Aleksij Orsinski, not yet. You have spoken, and I have listened +to you; it is my turn to speak. I, too, have something to say about +Anya's father." + +The Baron had always been considered as a brave man, but now either +the darkness oppressed him, or the past arose in front of him +threateningly, or else the strange and almost weird behaviour of his +future mother-in-law awed him; but, somehow or other, he had never +felt so uncomfortable before. Not only a disagreeable feeling of +creepiness had come over him, but even a slight perspiration had +gathered on his brow. He almost fancied that, instead of a woman, a +ghost was sitting there in front of him echoing his words. Who was +that ghost? Perhaps, he would not--probably, he dared not recognise +it. He tried, however, to shake off his nervousness, and said, with +forced lightness: + +"I have had the honour of knowing Count Yarnova personally; he was +somewhat eccentric, it is true; still, a more honourable man +never----" + +"He was simply mad," interrupted the Countess; "anyhow, it is not of +Count Yarnova, but of Anya'a father of whom I wish to speak." Then, +after a slight pause, as if nerving herself to the painful task, the +woman in the dark added: "For you must know that not a drop of the +Count's blood flows in my daughter's veins." + +There was another awkward pause; Aleksij's heart began to beat much +faster, the perspiration was gathering on his brow in much bigger +drops. + +"Count Yarnova was not your daughter's father, you say?" He would +have liked to add: "Who was, then?" but he durst not. + +"No, Aleksij Orsinski, he was not." + +A feeling of sickness came over the Baron; he hardly knew whether he +was awake, or asleep and dreaming. Who was that woman in the dark? + +The Countess, after a while, resumed her story: "I was born in St. +Petersburg, of a wealthy and honourable, but not of a noble family. +I, too, was but a child when I fell in love, deeply in love, with a +neighbour's son. Unlike yours, Baron, and I suppose all men's, a +woman's first love is the only real one. I was then somewhat younger +than my daughter now is, for I had barely reached my thirteenth year, +and as for my lover, he was fifteen. We often met, unknown to our +parents, in our garden; I saw no harm in it--I was too young, too +guileless, not to trust him----" + +She stopped. + +"And he?" asked the Baron, as if called upon to say something. + +"He, like Romeo, whispered vows of love, of eternal fidelity. He +believed in his vows just then, as you did, Aleksij Orsinski; for I +daresay that with you, as with all men, the last love is the only +true one." + +"Then?" asked the Baron. + +"Once we stepped out of the garden together; a carriage was waiting +for us; we drove to a lonely chapel not far from our house; a priest +there blessed us and made us man and wife. Our marriage, however, was +to be kept a secret till we grew older, or, at least, till my husband +was master of his actions, for he knew that his parents would never +consent to our union." + +There was another pause; but now the Baron could not trust himself to +speak, his teeth were almost chattering as if with intense cold. + +"A time of sickness and sorrow reigned over our country; the people +were dying by hundreds and by thousands. The plague was raging in St. +Petersburg. My husband's family were the first to flee from the +contagion. We remained. The scourge had just abated, when, to my +horror and dismay, I understood that I should in a few months become +a mother. I wrote to my husband, but I received no answer; still, I +knew he was alive and in good health. I wrote again, but with no +better success. The day came when, at last, I had to disclose my +terrible secret to my parents." + +The Countess stopped, passed her hands over her brow as if to drive +away the remembrance of those dreadful days. + +"It is useless to try and relate their anger and my shame. My parents +would not believe in my marriage; besides, the priest that had +married us, even the witnesses, had all been swept away by that weird +scavenger, the plague. I had no paper, no certificate, not even a +ring to show that I was married. Contumely was not enough; I was not +only treated by my parents with pitiless scorn, but I was, moreover, +turned out of their house. When our own parents shut their doors +against us, is it a wonder if the world is ruthless? + +"What was I to do? where was I to go? With the few roubles I had I +could not travel very far or live very long. I wandered to the castle +where my husband was living; I asked for him, but I was told that he +was ill." + +"But he was ill," said the Baron, "was he not?" + +"Perhaps his watery love had already flowed away, and he had given +orders not to receive me if I should present myself. For a moment I +stood rooted on the doorstep, bewildered, not knowing what to do; +then I asked to see his mother. This was only exposing myself to one +humiliation more. She came out in the hall; there she called me +bitter names, and when I told her that I had not a bed whereon to lie +that night, she replied that the Neva was always an available bed for +girls like me; then she ordered her servants to cast me out. + +"Houseless, homeless, almost penniless; my husband's mother was +right--the Neva was the only place where I could find rest. In its +fast-fleeting waters I might indeed find shelter. + +"With my thoughts all of suicide I directed myself towards the open +country, hoping soon to reach the banks of the broad river, for I was +not only tired out, but weak and faint for want of food. My legs at +last began to give way; weary, disheartened, I sank down by the +roadside and began to sob aloud. All at once I heard a creaking noise +of wheels, the tramp of horses, and merry human voices singing in +chorus. As I lifted up my head I saw two carts passing, wherein a +band of gipsies were all huddled together. Seeing my grief and +hearing my sobs, the driver stopped; a number of boys and young men, +girls and women jumped, crawled or scrambled down from the carts, as +crabs do out of a basket; then they all crowded around me to find out +what had befallen me. I would not answer their questions, nor could I +have done so even if I had wanted. I was almost too faint to speak. +An elderly woman, the chief's wife, pushed all the others aside, came +up to me, took my hand and examined it carefully; then she began to +speak in a language I did not understand. + +"'Poor child!' said she at last, patting my hair and kissing me on my +eyes; 'you are indeed in trouble; still, bright days are in store for +you; take courage, cheer up, live, for you will soon be a grand lady, +and then you will trample over all your enemies--yes, over every one +of them. You have no home,' said she, as if answering my own +thoughts; 'What does it matter? Have we a home? Have the little birds +that nestle in the leafy boughs a home? No, all the world is their +home. Come with us. You have no family; well, you will be our child.' + +"Saying this she gave an order to the men around her, and almost +before I was aware of it, half-a-dozen brawny arms lifted me tenderly +and placed me on a heap of clothes in one of the carts. Soon my +protectress was by my side whispering words of endearment in my ear; +and as for myself, weak and starving, forlorn and dejected as I was, +I cared very little what became of me. + +"The gipsy woman, who was versed in medicine, poured me out some kind +of cordial or sleeping draught and made me drink it; a few minutes +afterwards a pleasant drowsiness came over me, then I fell fast +asleep. I only awoke some hours later, and I found myself lying on a +mattress in a tent. I remained for some time bewildered, unable to +understand where and with whom I was; still, when I came to my senses +the keen edge of my grief was blunted. The gipsy woman, my +protectress, kissed me in a fond, mother-like way; then she brought +me a plate of food. + +"'Eat,' said she, 'grief has a much greater hold on an empty stomach +than on a satiated one.' + +"I was young and hungry; the smell of the food was good; I did not +wait to be asked twice. I never remembered to have tasted anything so +delicious. It was not soup, but a kind of savoury stew, containing +vegetables and meat--an _olla-podrida_ of ham, beef and poultry. +After that, they offered me some fragrant drink, which soon made me +feel drowsy, and then sent me off to sleep again. I woke early the +next morning, when they were about to start on their daily +wanderings. With my head still muddled with sleep, I was helped into +the cart, and sat down between my new friend and her husband. + +"That life in the open air, the kindness and good-humour of the +people amongst whom I lived, soothed and quieted me. All ideas of +suicide vanished entirely from my mind. Self-murder is an unknown +thing amongst gipsies. Besides, my friend assured me, again and +again, that I should soon become a very great lady, and then all my +enemies would be at my mercy. + +"'But how shall I ever repay you for your kindness?' I asked. + +"'The day will come when the hand of persecution will be uplifted +against us; then you alone will protect us.' + +"In the meanwhile I was treated like a queen by all of them. +Moreover, they were a wealthy band, possessing not only horses, carts +and tents, but also money. They might have lived comfortably in some +town, or settled as farmers somewhere; but their life was by far too +pleasant to give it up. Heedless, jovial, contented people, their +only care seemed to be where they were to have their next meal. + +"A few months afterwards, my daughter was born in a tent, not far +from Warsaw." + +"She must have been a great comfort to you," quoth the Baron, +thinking he ought to say something appropriate. + +"A comfort? The unwished-for child of a man that had blighted my +life, a comfort? No, indeed, Baron. In fact, I saw very little of +this daughter of mine; a young gipsy nursed her and took care of her. +My own parents had taught me what love was. My husband's mother--a +grand lady--thought that the Neva was the best cradle for her unborn +grandchild. Besides, other work was waiting for me than nursing and +rearing Anya. + +"Count Yarnova one day met our band of gipsies on the road, and he +stretched his ungloved hand to have his fate read and explained. My +friend--no ordinary fortune-teller--was well versed in palmistry, and +a most lucid thought-reader; she told him that before the year was +out he would be a married man. + +"'In a few days,' added she, 'on Christmas Eve, you will see your +young bride in your own mirror; you will see her again after a few +days, and she will tend upon you and cure you from a fever when the +doctor's help will be worse than useless. As soon as you get well you +will start on a journey; then you will stop for some days in two +large towns, both of which begin with the same letter; there you will +see again that beautiful child you saw on Christmas Eve.' + +"'But when and where shall I meet her, not as a vision, but as a real +person?' + +"The Baron wore on the forefinger of his right hand a kind of magic +ring, in which a little crystal ball was set. The gipsy lifted the +Baron's hand to her eyes and looked at the crystal ball for a few +seconds. + +"'It is spring,' said she; 'the trees are in bloom, and Nature wears +her festive garb. In a splendid saloon, where all the furniture is of +gold and the walls are covered with rich silks, I see a handsome +young girl dressed in spotless white, holding a guitar and singing; +behind her there is a mass of flowers; around her gentlemen and +ladies are listening to the sound of her sweet voice.' + +"Count Yarnova was a Swedenborgian, and he not only believed in the +occult art, but had dabbled himself in magic, until his rather weak +mind was somewhat unhinged. He, of course, did not doubt the truth of +what the gipsy had foretold him; moreover, he was right, because +everything happened exactly as she had predicted. + +"On Christmas Eve the Count was alone in his room sitting at a little +table reading, and glancing every now and then, first at a clock, +afterwards at a huge cheval-glass opposite the alcove. All the +servants of the house, except his valet--a young gipsy of our band +--had gone to Mass, according to the custom of the place. At half-past +eleven my friends accompanied me to the Count's palace; the valet +opened the door noiselessly and led me unseen, unheard, in the +alcove. I was dressed in white and shrouded in a mass of silvery +veils. On the stroke of twelve I appeared between the two draped +columns which formed the opening of the alcove; the light hanging in +the middle of the room was streaming on me, and my image, reflected +in the glass, looked, in fact, like a vision. The Count, seeing it, +heaved a deep breath, started to his feet, drew back, stood still for +an instant, uttered an exclamation of surprise, then made a step +towards the looking-glass. At that moment the valet opened the door +as if in answer to his master's summons. The Count looked round, +thus giving me time to slip away; when he glanced again at the mirror +I had disappeared. Then the thought came to him that the image he had +seen within the glass was only the reflection of some one standing in +the alcove; he ordered the valet to look within the inner part of the +room, and when the servant man assured him that there was nobody, he +ventured to look in it himself. The valet swore that nobody had come +in the house, and by the time the servants returned from midnight +Mass I was already far away. + +"The Count had not been well for some days, and the shock he received +upset his nerves in such a way that he took to his bed with a kind of +brain fever. I attended him during his illness whilst he was +delirious, and when he recovered he had a slight remembrance of me, +just as of a vision we happen to see in a dream. He asked if a young +girl had not tended him during his illness; his valet and the other +servants told him that a mysterious stranger had come to take care of +him, and that she had soothed him much more by placing her hand upon +his brow, than all the doctor's stuff had done; still, no one had +ever seen her before, or knew where she had come from. + +"As soon as the Count was strong enough to travel, he decided to go +and visit some of the large towns of Europe, thus hoping to find me. + +"The vigilant eye of the police had long suspected Yarnova of being +an agitator; some letters addressed to him, and some of his own +writings on occult lore, had been strangely misinterpreted, and from +that time a constant watch had been held over him. No sooner had he +started than information was sent to the police that he was +conspiring against the Government, and thus I managed to be sent +after him and watch over him. Money, passports, and letters of +introduction to the ambassadors were handed to me. + +"Vienna was one of the towns where he stopped for a few days. A +follower of Cagliostro's was at that time showing there the phantoms +of the living, and those of the dead--not for money, of course, but +for any slight donation the visitors were pleased to give. The gipsy, +who accompanied Yarnova as valet, came to inform me that the Count +intended to go to this spiritualistic séance. The medium was also +acquainted of the fact, and for a slight consideration I was allowed +to appear before the public as my own materialised spirit. How most +of the ghosts were shown to the public, I cannot tell; I only know +that I appeared on a dimly-lighted stage, behind a thick gauze +curtain, wrapped up in a cloud of tulle, whilst harps and viols were +playing some weird funereal dirges. The people--huddled all together +in a dark corner--saw, I fancy, nothing but vague, dim forms passing +or floating by; but they were so anxious to be deceived that they +would have taken the wizard at his word, even if he had shown them an +ape and told them it was their grandmother. + +"When Yarnova saw me, he got so excited that it was with the greatest +difficulty that he could be kept quiet. + +"On the morrow the Count started for Venice, this being the nearest +town the name of which began with the same letter as Vienna. We got +there on the last days of the Carnival; an excellent time for the +purpose I had in hand, as the whole town seemed to have gone stark +mad. The Piazza San Marco was like a vast pandemonium, where dominoes +of every hue glided about, and masks of every kind walked, ran and +capered, or pushed their way through the dense crowd, chattering, +laughing, shouting. Bands of music were playing in front of several +coffee-houses, people were blowing horns; in fact, the uproar was +deafening. Dressed up as a Russian gipsy, and masked, I met the Count +on the square, and I told him all that had happened to him from the +day he had met the gipsies on the road. I only managed to escape from +him when he was stopped by a wizard--his own valet--who told him he +would see again that evening, at the masked ball of the Venice +theatre, the beautiful girl whose vision he had seen in his own +castle on Christmas Eve. + +"The Count, of course, went to the masked ball, followed by his valet +and myself, both in dominoes. Seeing a box empty, I went in it, +remained rather in the background, took off my hood and appeared in +the white veils, as he had already seen me twice. As soon as I +appeared, the valet, who was standing behind his master, laid his +hand on the Count's shoulder and whispered to him: 'Yarnova, look at +that lady in that box on the second tier--the third from the stage.' +The Count saw me, uttered an exclamation of surprise, turned round to +find out who had spoken to him; but the black domino had slipped away +amongst the crowd. I remained in the same position for a few moments, +then I put on my domino and mask and left the box. I met the Count +coming up, but, in the crowd, he, of course, did not notice me. + +"A few days afterwards, we left Venice; even before the Carnival was +quite over." + +"I suppose you were sorry to leave that beautiful town of pleasure?" +said the Baron. + +"Very sorry indeed; still, there was something to me sweeter than +pleasure, young as I was." + +"What was it, Countess?" + +"Revenge, so sweet to all Slavs." + +"And you revenged yourself?" + +"I have bided my time, Baron; every knot comes to the comb, they +say." + +"Did they all come?" + +"Sooner or later, all, to the very last; some of my enemies even +rotted in the mines of Siberia----" + +The Baron shivered, thinking of his father. + +"Others----" The Countess, for a moment, seemed to be thinking of the +past. + +"Well?" + +"But it is my own story I am telling you, not theirs. Count Yarnova +and I reached Paris almost at the same time. On my arrival, I +presented myself at the Russian Embassy. As the Ambassadress happened +to be looking for a companion or reader, the place was offered to me; +I accepted it most willingly. A few days afterwards, I was informed +by the gipsy, that the Count was to call on the Ambassadress the next +day. I remembered the prediction; I did my best to bring it about. +The room was exactly like the one described by my friend the gipsy; +the furniture was gilt, the walls were covered over with old damask; +as the Ambassadress was fond of flowers, the room looked like a +hot-house. I had put on the same white dress in which he had already +seen me three times, and knowing the very moment the Count would +come, I spoke of Russian peasant songs; I mentioned the one I was to +sing, and being requested to sing it, I did so. Before I ended it, +the door was opened and Count Yarnova was announced. + +"I do not know whether his could be called love at first sight, but +surely everybody in the room thought that his sudden passion for me +had almost deprived him of his reason. + +"The Count called on the morrow, and asked if I could receive him; I +did so, and he at once confessed his love for me. He told me that +although he was old enough to be my father, still, he felt sure I +should in time be fond of him, for marriages being made in heaven, I +was ordained to be his wife. + +"I tried to explain the plight in which I found myself, but he +interrupted me at once, telling me that he knew everything. + +"'I am aware that you have been forsaken by a cruel-hearted man,' +said he, 'but henceforth I shall be everything to you.' + +"I summoned my courage, I spoke to him of my child. + +"'The child that was born on Christmas night?' + +"'Yes,' I answered below my breath. + +"'It is my own spiritual child,' said he. + +"I looked at him astonished. + +"'I know all about it,' he continued. 'On that night I saw you in a +vision, just as it had been predicted to me; I saw you just as I see +you now. That very night I had, moreover, a vision. I was married to +you, and---- but never mind about that dream. I have seen you after +that--first in this magic ring; then I saw you materialised at +Vienna, and again in Venice. Of course, it was not you, but your +double, for you were at that time here in Paris, quite unconscious, +quietly asleep, having, perhaps, a dream of what your other self was +seeing.' + +"Then he began to speak of materialisation, of the influence of +planets, in fact, of many chaotic and uninteresting things to which +I, apparently at least, listened with the greatest attention. I was +well repaid for my trouble, for a few weeks afterwards we were +married." + +"And your former husband?" + +"Was dead to me." + +"Did not the Government give you any trouble?" + +"The Russian Government knew that Countess Yarnova could be of great +help." + +"And was she?" + +"Even more than had been expected." + +The Countess paused a moment. "It happened that my enemies, Aleksij +Orsinski, were also those of my country, so I crushed them." + +The Baron trembled perceptibly. + +"But that is their own tale, not mine. We came back to Russia, my +husband worshipping me as a superhuman creature." + +"And you loved him?" + +"I loved but once." + +"Then you still loved the man who----" + +"Love either flows away like water, or it rankles in a festering +heart and changes into gall. At St. Petersburg I saw again my +parents. Their curse had fallen on their own heads; fortune's wheel +had turned--their wealth was all gone--they were paupers. How +despicable people are who, having once been rich, cannot get +reconciled to the idea of being poor! How mean all their little +makeshifts are! how cringing they get to be! You can even make them +swallow any amount of dirt for a dinner you give them. They are all +loathsome parasites. I might have ignored my parents--left them to +their fate, or else helped them anonymously. I went to see them; it +was so pleasant to heap burning coals on their heads. I doled out a +pittance to them, received their thanks, allowed them to kiss my +hands, knowing how they cursed me within their hearts. Gratitude is +the bitterest of all virtues; it sours the very milk of human +kindness." + +The Countess laughed a harsh, bitter, shrill laugh, and her guest +wiped the perspiration from his forehead. + +"I shall tell you all about them some other time, in the long winter +evenings when the wind howls outside and the country is all covered +with its pall of snow. It will be pleasant to sit by the fire and +tell you all these old family stories, Aleksij Orsinski." + +And the dark figure buried in the big arm-chair laughed again in a +mocking, discordant way. + +"After some years the Count died, and then I was left sole mistress +of all his wealth." + +"And Anya?" + +"Why, I hardly ever saw her. She was brought up here, in this dreary +old castle, like a sleeping beauty; you, like Prince Charming, came +to waken her up. You found her here by chance, did you not?" + +"Yes, Countess; I happened----" + +"Count Yarnova, likewise, found me by chance," said the woman in the +dark, jeeringly, and interrupting him. + +"What do you mean?" asked the Baron, breathing hard. + +"I mean that the last knot has come to the comb." Aleksij Orsinski +covered his face with his hands. + +"Perhaps, after all," he thought, "this is nothing but a hideous +dream." + +"Do you not find, Baron, that Anya, _your_ Anya as you call her, +reminds you of another girl, the girl you----" + +"Countess, for mercy's sake, I can bear this no longer; who are you?" + +The Baron, trembling, panting, sprang to his feet and went up to the +Countess. She thereupon threw off her mantilla, and appeared in the +bright light of the full moon, which was streaming through the +mullioned windows. + +The Baron stretched out his arms. + +"Jadviga!" he said, in a low, muffled tone; then he again covered his +face with his hands. + +"And now, Aleksij Orsinski, now that my story is at an end," said the +Countess, in a jeering tone; "now that, at last, you have wakened +from your day-dream, whom am I to call--Anya your fiancée, or Anya +your own daughter?" + +A low moan was the only answer. + +"Speak, man, speak!" said the Countess, sneeringly. + +Another moan was heard; not from the Baron, but from behind one of +the thick Arras portières. Then it moved, and Anya appeared within +the room. She advanced a few steps, stretched out her arms, just as +if she were walking in the dark; then, at last, she sank senseless +on the floor. The father ran to her, caught her up in his arms, +pressed her to his heart, tried to bring her back from her +fainting-fit, called her by the most endearing names; but, alas! she +was already beyond hearing him. + +"You have killed your daughter!" cried Aleksij, beside himself with +grief. + +"I?" said the Countess. + +"Yes, and you have blasted my life!" + +"Have you not blasted mine?" replied the Countess, laughing, and yet +looking as scared as a ghost. + +The Baron was moaning over his daughter's lifeless body. + +"You are happy, my Anya; but what is to become of me?" + +"Aleksij, rest can always be found within the waters of the Neva; its +bed is as soft as down, whilst the breeze blowing in the sedges sings +such a soft lullaby." + +Orsinski looked up at his wife. + +"I think you are right, Jadviga," said he. + +"Oh! I know I am," replied the Countess, bursting into a loud, +croaking, jarring fit of hysterical laughter. The Baron shuddered, +but the Countess laughed louder and ever louder, until the lofty room +resounded with that horrible, untimely merriment. + +And now, if you pass by the dreary and deserted old Yarnova Castle, +you will, perhaps, hear in the dead of the night those dreadful, +discordant peals of laughter, whilst the belated peasant who passes +by crosses himself devoutly on hearing that sound of fiendish mirth. + + +The southerly wind which had accompanied the _Giustizia di Dio_ to +Cape Salvore suddenly shifted, and a smacking northeasterly breeze +began to blow. The whole of that night was a most stormy one; still, +the ship bravely weathered the gale. At dawn the wind began to abate, +still the sea was very heavy. + +At about eight o'clock they perceived a ship, not only in distress, +but sinking fast. Milenko at once gave orders to reef the topsails +and tack about, so as to be able to approach the wreck, for the sea +was by far too heavy to allow them to use their boats. + +When they managed to get near enough to hear the shouts of the +starving crew, they found out that the sinking ship was the _Ave +Maria_, an Austrian barque. After much manoeuvring they got as close +to the stern of the sinking ship as they possibly could. Ropes were +then thrown across, so that the sailors might catch and tie them +around their bodies and jump into the sea. The weakest were first +helped to leap overboard, and then they were hauled into the +_Giustizia di Dio_, where they received all the help their state +required. + +Five men were thus saved, and then the two ships were driven apart by +the gale. A scene of despair at once ensued on board the _Ave Maria_, +which was sinking lower and lower. By dint of tacking about, the +_Giustizia di Dio_ was once more brought by the side of the wreck, +and then the captain and boatswain were saved; one of the men, who +was drunk, when about to be tied, reeled back to the wine, which, +apparently, was sweeter to him than life itself. + +Milenko, who had remained at the helm, now came to the prow. It was +just then that Vranic caught the rope that had been flung to him, and +tied it round his waist. He stood on the stern and was about to leap +into the foaming waves below. Milenko, who perceived him, uttered a +loud cry, almost a raucous cry of joy, just as mews do as they pounce +upon their prey. + +"Vranic at last!" said he. + +Vranic heard himself called; but, when he recognised his foe, it was +too late to keep back--he had already sprung into the sea. + +Milenko had snatched the rope from the hands of the sailor who had +thrown it. His first impulse was to cut the rope and leave his +friend's murderer to the mercy of the waves. + +Vranic, who had disappeared for an instant within the abyss of the +waters, was seen again, struggling in the midst of the whirling foam. +He looked up, and saw one of the _pobratim_ holding the rope. Milenko +remained for a moment undecided as to what he was to do. + +"Let me help you to pull up," said the boatswain. + +The young captain almost mechanically heaved up the rope, and was +astonished to find it so light. The rope came home; evidently it had +got undone, for Vranic was presently seen battling against the huge +billows, trying to regain the sinking ship. + +"What has happened?" + +"Did the rope get loose?" + +"Why did he not hold on?" + +"Why does he not try to catch it?" + +"Look, he is swimming back towards the wreck." + +"He must have cut the rope." + +These were the many exclamations of the astonished sailors. + +"Thank Heaven, he is guilty of his own blood," replied Milenko, "for +this is, after all, the justice of God." + +In fact, as soon as Vranic saw that it was Milenko himself who was +holding the rope that was tied round his waist, he pulled out the +black dagger that he always carried about him, and freed himself; +then he turned round and began to swim back towards the _Ave Maria_. +At the same time, a big wave came rolling over him; it uplifted and +dashed him against the sharp icicles hanging from the wrecked ship, +and which looked so many _chevaux de frise_. He tried to catch hold, +to cling to the frozen ropes, but they slipped from his grasp, and +the retreating surges carried him off and he disappeared for ever. + +The two vessels were parted once more, and Milenko, perceiving that +it was useless to remain there any longer and try and save the three +drunken sailors who had remained on board, thought it far more +advisable to proceed on to Trieste and send them help from there. + +When the _Giustizia di Dio_ reached Trieste, the storm had abated, +the wind had gone down, and the sea was almost calm. Help was at once +sent to the shipwrecked vessel, but, alas! all that could be seen of +the _Ave Maria_ was the utmost tops of her masts. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII + +THE WEDDING + + +Milenko had been most lucky in his voyages, and had reaped a golden +harvest. As steamers had not yet come into any practical use, and the +Adriatic trade was still a most prosperous one, ship-owners and +captains had a good time of it. In fact, his share of the profits was +such as to enable him to buy the ship on his own account. Still, now +that the _karvarina_ business was settled and Uros' death was +avenged, he did not care any more for a seafaring life; and, +moreover, his heart was at Nona with the girl he loved. + +The time he had been away had seemed to him everlastingly long, and, +besides, he had been all these months without any news from his +family. He was, therefore, overjoyed upon reaching Trieste to find a +whole packet awaiting him. + +The very first letter that caught his sight was one in a handwriting +which, although familiar, he could not recognise. Could it be from +Ivanka? Now that they were engaged, she, perhaps, had written to him; +still, it hardly seemed probable. Perhaps it was from Giulianic, for, +indeed, it was more of a man's than a woman's handwriting. Looking at +it closer, he thought, with a sigh, that if poor Uros were alive, he +would surely believe it came from him. At last he tore the letter +open. It began: + +"_Ljubi moj brati._" + +"Can it be possible," said Milenko to himself, "that Uros is still +alive?" + +He gave a glance at the signature; there was no more doubt about it, +the writer was Uros himself. In his joy, he pressed the letter to his +lips; then he ran over its contents, which were as follows: + + +"MY BELOVED BROTHER,--You will, doubtless, be very much surprised to +get this letter from me, as I do not think anybody has, as yet, +written to you; nor is it likely that you have met anyone from Budua +giving you our news. Therefore, as I think you believe me in my +coffin, it will be just like receiving a letter from beyond the +grave. Anyhow, if I am still alive, it is to you, my dear Milenko, +that I owe my life, nay, more than my life, my happiness. + +"The day you went away I remained for several hours in a +fainting-fit, just like a dead man. My heart had ceased to beat, my +limbs had grown stiff and cold; in fact, they say I was exactly like +a corpse. I think that, for a little while, I even lost the use of +all my senses. At last, when I came to myself, I could neither feel, +nor speak, nor move; I could only hear. I lived, as it were, rather +out of my body than within it. I heard weeping and wailing, and the +prayers for the dead were being said over me. My mother and Milena +were kissing my face and hands, and their tears trickled down on my +cold lips and eyelids. It was a moment of bitter anguish and +maddening terror. Should I lie stiff and stark, like a corpse, and +allow myself to be buried? The idea was so dreadful that it quite +paralysed me. I again, for a little while, lost all consciousness. +Little by little I recovered my senses; I could even open my eyes; I +uttered a few faint words. In fact, I was alive. From that moment I +began to recover my strength. In less than a fortnight I was able to +rise from my bed. From that day my mother's visits not only were +shorter, but Milena ceased to come. They told me that the monks had +objected to her presence. I was afraid this was an excuse, and, in +fact, I soon found out that she had been at the point of death, and, +as she was at our house now, my mother was taking care of her. Her +illness protracted my own, and my strength seemed once more to pass +away. But Milena returned to me, and soon afterwards I was able to +leave the convent. + +"Can I describe my happiness to you, friend of my heart? You yourself +will shortly be married to the girl you are fond of, and then you +will know all the bliss of loving and being loved. + +"But enough of this, for you will say that either my illness or my +stay in the convent has made me maudlin, sentimental--and, perhaps, +you will not be quite wrong. + +"Let me rather ask you, captain, how you have been faring, and on +what seas you have been tossing. Oh! how I long to hear from you, and +to see you. I hope you will soon be back amongst us, where a great +happiness is in store for you; but more than that I cannot say. + +"I sincerely trust you have not met with my enemy, and that your +hands are not stained with blood. God has dealt mercifully towards +me; He has raised me, as it were, from the dead. Let us leave that +wretched wanderer to his fate. Moreover, the first day I was able to +leave my cell I walked, or rather I should say I crawled, to church +to hear Mass. It was on Rose Sunday, which, as you know, is a week +after Easter, and the convent garden was in all its youthful beauty. +The priest recited the Scriptures for the day, and amongst the other +beautiful things that he read were these words, which seemed +addressed to me; they were: 'Vengeance is mine, saith the Lord.' +Hearing them in church, I almost fancied it was God Himself speaking; +and they made such an impression upon me, that I swore to forego all +thoughts of _karvarina_, feeling sure that the Almighty will, sooner +or later, keep the promise He made to me. + +"If I did not know you, my dear Milenko, I might imagine you saying +to yourself: 'His illness has crushed all manly spirit out of him.' +Still, I feel sure you will not say that of me. + +"How often I have been thinking of you, especially the day I left the +convent; and on my wedding-day my thoughts were more with you than at +home. + +"Have your ventures been prosperous? Anyhow, do not invest more money +in new ships, for our fathers have just bought a very large schooner. +It had been built for a ship-owner, who, having laid out more money +in his trade than he could afford, was only too glad to dispose of +it. The christening will take place as soon as you come back. Of +course, the name chosen is _The Pobratim_. + +"I do not write to you anything about your family, for your father +has written to you several times, although, by the letters we have +from you, none of them seem to have reached you as yet. "UROS." + + +Milenko hastened to open his father's letters, and he found there the +"happiness which was in store for him," to which Uros alluded, for +Bellacic wrote: + +"You will be surprised to hear that we have a new addition to our +circle of friends, a family you are well acquainted with. I do not +ask you to guess who these people are, for you would never do so. +Therefore, I shall tell you Giulianic has come to settle in Budua. +The country round Nona, which, as you know, is rather marshy and +consequently unhealthy, never agreed with any of them; for reasons +best known to themselves they have chosen Budua as their residence. I +had known Giulianic years ago, and I was very glad to renew his +acquaintance; your mother is greatly taken up with his daughter, who +seems to cling to her as to a mother. It appears that when Uros met +them last, he played some practical kind of joke upon them and +rendered himself rather obnoxious; but his marriage has settled the +matter to everybody's satisfaction, especially to Ivanka's, for she +and Milena are already great friends. I need not tell you how much +your mother longs to have you back." + +Milenko, after reading all his letters, could hardly master his +impatience any longer; a feeling of home-sickness oppressed him to +such a degree that, in his longing, he almost felt tempted to leave +his ship and run away. But as ill-luck would have it he could not +find a cargo either for Cattaro or Budua; therefore, having unloaded +his ship, he bought a cargo of timber, which then found a ready +market everywhere, and sailed at once for his native town. + +"The north-easterly wind 'll just last all the way out of the +Adriatic," said Janovic, the new boatswain they had engaged in +Trieste, "and we'll get to Budua in three days, so we'll have just +time to unload and go to Cattaro for the feast of San Trifone and the +grand doings of the _marinerezza_, that is, if the captain 'll give +us leave." + +"Oh, that 'll be delightful," replied Peric, "for I've not seen it +yet. What is it like?" + +"The feast of the _marinerezza_," said Janovic, sententiously, "is +more beautiful than any kind of pageantry I've seen; why, the +carnival of Benetke" (Venice), "the procession of _Corpus Domini_ in +Trst" (Trieste), "or the feast of the _Ramazan_, at Carigrad" +(Constantinople), "cannot be compared to it. So it's useless my +describing it to you; it's a thing you must see for yourself." + +Five days after their departure from Trieste, the _Giustizia di Dio_ +was casting her anchor in the roads of Budua. Although winter was not +yet over, spring seemed already to have set in; the sky was of a +fathomless blue, the sun was warm and of an effulgent brightness, the +brown almond-trees were covered with white blossoms; Nature had +already put on her festive garb. + +His two fathers, his brother of adoption, Giulianic, Danko Kvekvic, +and a host of friends, were waiting on the shore to welcome him back. +Then they accompanied him all in a body to his house. His mother, +Mara Bellacic and Milena were waiting for him on the threshold. +Presently, Giulianic went to fetch his wife and daughter. Ivanka came +trying to hide her blushes; nay, to appear indifferent and demure. In +front of so many people, Milenko himself felt awkward, and still +there was such a wistful, longing look of pent-up love in his +searching glances as he bashfully shook hands with her, that, in her +maidenly coyness, her eyelids drooped down, so that their long dark +lashes kissed her blushing cheeks. + +That day seemed quite a festivity for the little town. The _pobratim_ +had many friends; and besides, all the persons who had taken the +awful oath of the _karva tajstvo_ were anxious to know if Captain +Milenko had met Vranic during the many months that he had been away; +therefore, Markovic's house was, till late at night, always crowded +with people. + +When Milenko related to them how he had tried to save Vranic, and how +miserably the poor wretch had perished, everybody crossed himself +devoutly, and extolled the God of the Orthodox faith as the true God +of the _karvarina_. + +A few days after Milenko's arrival, his father went to Giulianic and +asked him for Ivanka's hand. + +"I am only too happy to give her to the man of her choice," said +Giulianic, "for although I had, indeed, accepted Uros for my +son-in-law, still I did so only in mistake. Not only was it Milenko +who first gallantly exposed his life to save us, but Ivanka, as she +confessed to her mother, fell in love with him the very moment she +awoke from her fainting-fit and found herself in his arms. Of course, +she ought never to have done so, for no proper girl ought ever to +fall in love but with the man chosen by her parents; still, young +people are young people all the world over, you know," said +Giulianic, apologisingly. + +After that, the fathers discussed the dower, and the mothers talked +about the outfit, the kitchen utensils, and the furnishing of the +house. + +Then followed a month of perfect bliss. During that time, they went +occasionally to look after the schooner, which was being fitted up +with far more luxury than sailing ships usually were; they visited +their fields and their vineyards; but most of their time was spent in +merry-making. + +One day they all went on a pilgrimage to the Convent of St. George, +where they left rich gifts to the holy caloyers for Uros' recovery; +another day they visited the famous subterranean chapel of Pod-Maini, +adorned with beautiful Byzantine frescoes. They also showed Ivanka +the tower where Boskovic, the great magician, lived; but she, being a +stranger, had never heard of him; and so they told her that he was an +astrologer who possessed a telescope with which he read all the names +of the stars. + +Another time they went for a sail on the blue, translucent waters, +and Milenko showed his bride that high rock jutting over the sea, +which is situated half-way between Castel Lastua and Castel Stefano, +and known as the Skoce Djevojka (The Young Girl's Leap). + +"Did a young girl jump down from that height?" asked Ivanka, +shuddering. + +"Yes. She was a young girl of exceeding beauty, from the neighbouring +territory of Pastiovic, and to escape from a Turk who was pursuing +her she threw herself down into the abyss beneath. But I'll tell you +her story at full length some other time." + +Although the hand of time seemed to move very slowly, still the month +of courtship came to an end. Now all the preparations for the wedding +were ready, for the nuptials were to be solemnised with great pomp +and splendour. + +On the morning of that eventful day, everyone connected with the +wedding had risen at daybreak to attend to the numerous preparations +required. The principal room in Giulianic's house had been cleared of +all the furniture, so as to make room for the breakfast table, which +was to be spread there. At that early hour, already the lady of the +house was presiding over the women in the kitchen, who were cooking a +number of young lambs and kids, roasting huge pieces of beef, +numberless fowls on spits, or baking _pojace_ (unleavened bread) on +heated stones. + +The men, as a rule, fussed about, creating much confusion, as men +usually do on such occasions. They fidgeted and worried lest +everything should not be ready in time. They delayed everything, and, +moreover, kept wanting and asking for all kinds of impossible things. +The barbers' shops were all crowded. At a certain hour--when the +bridegroom was expected--a number of people had gathered round about +the house to see him come. At the gate, for Giulianic's villa was out +of the town walls, two sentinels were placed to keep watch. The elder +was Zwillievic, Milena's father, who had come from Montenegro for the +purpose; tall and stalwart, with his huge moustache and his +glittering weapons at his belt, he was a fierce guard, indeed. The +other was Lilic, only a youth, who for self-defence had but a strong +stick. + +Both of them were very merry, withal they seemed to be expecting some +powerful foe against whose assault they were well prepared. The +youth, especially, was so full of his mission, that he hardly dared +to take any notice of the loungers who crowded thereabouts. + +At last there was a bustle, and the guards were on the alert. + +"Here they are, here they are!" shouted the children. + +The persons expected were in sight, and, except for their rich +festive attire, they looked, indeed, as if they were bent upon some +predatory expedition, so manly and warlike was their gait. + +The persons expected were about twelve in number; that is to say, the +bridegroom and his followers--the _svati_, or knights. + +Milenko wore the beautiful dress of the Kotor. Like his train, he had +splendid bejewelled daggers and pistols stuck in his leather girdle, +and a gun slung across his shoulder. + +They all walked gravely, two by two, up to the garden-gate of +Giulianic's house; there they were stopped by the sentinels. + +"Who are you?" said Zwillievic. "Who are you, who, armed to the +teeth, dare to come up to this peaceful dwelling?" + +"We are," answered the _voivoda_, the head of the _svati_, "all men +from this beautiful town of Budua." + +"And what is your motive for coming here?" + +"We are in search of a beautiful bird that inhabits this +neighbourhood." + +"And what do you wish to do with the beautiful bird?" + +"We wish to take it away with us." + +"And supposing you succeeded in finding it, are you clever enough to +capture it?" + +"All men of the Kotor are clever hunters," answered the _voivoda_, +proudly, and showing Milenko. "This one is the cleverest of all." + +"If you are not only clever in words, show us your skill." + +An old red cap was brought forth and placed upon a stone--it +represented the allegorical bird--and the young men fired at it. As +almost all of them were excellent marksmen, the cap was soon +afterwards but a burning rag. + +Having thus shown their skill, they were allowed to enter within the +yard, where more questioning took place. At the door of the house +they were met by Giulianic and his wife, by whom they were +cross-examined for the last time. + +Having once more proved themselves to be a party of honest hunters, +they were all welcomed and allowed to go into the house to see if +they could find the beautiful bird. + +The _svati_ were led into the principal room, where the table was +laid, and there begged to sit down and partake of some refreshments. +All the young men sat down, each one according to his rank, all +keeping precisely the same order as they had done in marching. + +Milenko alone did not join his friends at table, for he had at once +gone off in search of the allegorical bird. The breakfast having at +last reached its end, and the company seeing that, apparently, the +hunter had not been very fortunate in his search, two of the +_svati_--the _bariactar_ and the _ciaus_--volunteered to go to his +assistance; and soon afterwards they reappeared, bringing back with +them the beautiful, blushing girl decked out in her wedding attire. +Her clothes were of red velvet, brocade and satin, richly embroidered +in gold, heirlooms which had been in the family for, perhaps, more +than a century, and worn by the grandmother and the mother on similar +occasions. + +For the first time Ivanka now appeared without her red cap, which in +Dalmatia is only worn by girls as the badge of maidenhood. Her long +tresses formed a natural coronet; they were interwoven with ribbons +of many colours, and adorned with sprays of fresh flowers. + +A universal shout greeted her appearance, and when the +congratulations came to an end, the bride got ready to leave her +home. Before going away she went to receive her father's blessing; +then her mother clasped her in her arms and kissed her repeatedly. +Then, after having expressed her wishes for her future happiness in +homely though pathetic words, she reminded her of her duties as a +wife and as a bride. + +"Remember, my daughter," said she, "that you must love your husband +as the turtle-dove loves her mate, for the poor bird pines away and +dies in widowhood rather than be unfaithful. Milenko might have many +defects--what man is perfect?--but you should be the first to +extenuate them, the last to proclaim them to the world; moreover, +whatever be his conduct to you, bear in mind that you must never +render evil for evil. The heart of a man is moved by patience and +long-suffering, just as huge rocks are moved by drops of rain falling +from the sky. When a husband comes back to his senses, then he is +grateful to his wife, and cherishes her more than before." + +Ivanka was afterwards reminded of her duties to her near relations, +for, in those times, and amongst those primitive people, the wit of a +nation did not consist in turning mothers-in-law into ridicule. + +She then finished her short speech, drawing tears, not only from her +daughter, but even from the eyes of many a swarthy, long-whiskered +bystander. + +Before starting, however, another ceremony had to be performed. It +was that of taking possession of the chest containing all the bride's +worldly goods, and on which were displayed the beautiful presents the +bride had received. Amongst these were, as usual, two distaffs and a +spindle, for spinning had not yet entirely gone out of fashion. +Still, these were only the signs of the bride's industry. + +A little imp of a boy, + + "Hardi comme un coq sur son propre fumier," + +was seated on the chest, and he kept a strict watch over it. He had +been told to fight whosoever attempted to lay hands on it, and he, +therefore, took his part seriously. He scratched, bit, kicked and +pummelled all those who attempted to come near it. At last, having +received some cakes and a piece of silver money, he was induced to +give up the trunk to the _svati_, who carried it off. + +The bride then left the house amongst the shouting and the firing of +the multitude, and the whole train, walking two by two, proceeded to +church. + +Lilic and Zwillievic likewise joined the train, for now that the bird +had flown away from the nest their task was over. + +As they walked along together, the youth said to the old man: + +"I am sorry for poor Milenko, after all." + +"Why?" asked Zwillievic. + +"Eh! because Ivanka 'll bury him." + +"How do you know that?" quoth the Montenegrin, astonished. + +"Because, you see, Ivanka's name has an even number of letters; +therefore, she'll outlive her husband." + +"I see," replied Zwillievic; "I had never thought of that." + +After the lengthy Orthodox service, and its chorographic-like +evolutions, Danilo Kvekvic made a short speech to the newly-married +couple, whom he blessed, and then the wedding ceremony came to an +end. + +The nuptial party finally arrived at Milenko's house, followed by an +ever-increasing crowd, and when the shouting and the firing began +anew, the whole town knew that the bride had arrived at her new home. + +Ivanka was received at the door of Milenko's house by his father and +mother, and there, after the usual welcome, she was presented with +two distaffs, two spindles, and a baby-boy, borrowed for the +occasion. The child is to remind her that she is expected to be the +mother of many boys, for children are still, in Dalmatia, considered +as blessings. + +Here, also, the principal apartment had been cleared of all its +furniture to make room for the wedding table. At this feast, the +givers being people who had seen a great deal of the world and who +had adopted new-fangled ideas, married women were also invited. + +The banquet, if not exactly choice, was certainly copious, and it +reminded one more of the grand Homeric feasts than the modern +dinner-parties. It was composed chiefly of huge dishes of rice, whole +lambs roasted, fish and fowl; and it was a great joy for the givers +of the feast to see that host of friends eating with a good appetite +and enjoying themselves. + +Before they had sat down a _dolibasa_, or head-drinker, had been +chosen. His functions corresponded, in some degree, with those of the +symposiarch of the ancient Greeks. He now presided over the table as +an autocrat, and ordered the number of toasts which he thought fit +should be drunk. + +No sooner had they sat down than the _dolibasa_ uttered a loud +"_Zivio!_" in honour of the beautiful bride; pistols were fired, and +forthwith all the guests emptied their glasses. The ladies, however, +were excluded from the drinking, for, whenever a "Hip, hip, hurrah!" +was uttered, the guests had to drain the contents of their tumblers, +and not simply to lift them up to their lips, or, at most, sip a few +drops of the wine. As for the poor wretch who could not comply with +the _dolibasa_'s orders, he had to leave the table, and some +humiliating punishment was invented for him. + +As the feast lasted for several days, the dinner did not really come +to an end at once. The eating and drinking were, however, interrupted +for a short time by the _Kolo_, which took place in the yard, +festively decorated with lanterns, flags and greenery. The ball, of +course, was opened by Ivanka and Milenko. The _Kolo_ they danced this +time was the graceful _skocci-gorri_, or the jumping step, which is +something like a _Varsovienne_, only that the couples, instead of +clasping hands, dance it holding the ends of a twisted kerchief. + +As the newly-married couple danced, the _bariactar_, or flag-bearer, +followed every step they made, waving his banner, holding a decanter +of wine upon his head, and performing behind them various antics to +amuse the crowd. + +When the _Kolo_ had lasted long enough--for, as the proverb says, +"Even a fine dance wearies"--the bride and bridegroom retired into +the house, and eating and drinking began again with renewed mirth. At +last, when the merriment had become uproarious, the young couple rose +and left the table. They went and knelt down before Janko Markovic, +who blessed them, holding a small loaf of bread over their heads; +then, having given it to them, he bade them begone, in the name of +God. + +They were then accompanied to their bridal chamber by Uros and +Milena, who helped them to undress, though, according to the +traditional custom, this office belonged to the _voivoda_, the +_bariactar_, and several of the other _svati_. + +The _dolibasa_ thereupon uttered a loud "_Zivio!_" which was echoed +by everyone in the room, and bumpers were again quaffed down. + +The _bariactar_ thereupon made some appropriate and spicy jokes, the +_svati_ did their best to outwit him, the youths winked at the girls, +who tried to blush and look demure. + +The music played, the _guzlars_ sang an epithalamium, to which +everyone present joined in chorus. At last the _voivoda_ and the +principal _svati_ went and knocked at the door of the bridal chamber, +and asked the hunter to relate his adventures and his success. Then +the proofs of the _consummatum est_ having been brought forth, +pistols, blunderbusses, and guns were fired, to announce the happy +event to the whole town, and the drinking began again. + +Eight days of festivities ensued, during which time--although the +eating and drinking continued in the same way--the scene varied from +one house to the other. + +At last, the new ship being christened and launched, it was soon +rigged out, all decked with flags and streamers. Then Milenko and +Uros embarked with their wives, delighted at the prospect of seeing +something of the world. On a beautiful May morning the white sails +were unfurled, the anchor was heaved, and the beautiful vessel began +to glide slowly on the smooth, glassy waters, like a snowy swan. The +crowd gathered on the beach fired off their pistols and shouted with +joy. The women waved their handkerchiefs. + +Soon, nothing more was seen but a dim speck in the grey distance. +Then the crowd wended their way homewards, for they had seen the last +of the _pobratim_. + +THE END. + + +H. S. NICHOLS, PRINTER, 3, SOHO SQUARE, LONDON, W. + + + + +Transcriber's Changes: + +Chapter 1 + +Uros and Milenko, therefore, begged the good old woman +was originally +Ivo and Milenko, therefore, begged the good old woman + + +Chapter 2 + +"Oh, I see, you don't want to tell me; +was originally +"Oh, I see, you dont want to tell me; + +your wife is honest," +was originally +your wife is honest,' + +The bard thereupon scraped his _guzla_, +was originally +The bard thereupon scraped his _guzlar_, + +and stop him on his way. Uros in the meanwhile took to his heels. +was originally +and stop him on his way Uros in the meanwhile took to his heels. + +stop talking," said Radonic, sullenly. +was originally +stop talking," said Radonic, sullenly, + + +Chapter 3 + +the yule-log, the huge bole of an olive tree, +was originally +the yule-log, the huge bowl of an olive tree, + +Whilst their own curses were their only knell! +was originally +Whilst their owh curses were their only knell! + + +Chapter 4 + +related to his hosts the story of his adventures, +was originally +related to his guests the story of his adventures, + +"'I thought you were a Slav; +was originally +"I thought you were a Slav; + + +Chapter 6 + +Once she is in my stronghold of Stermizza +was originally +Once she is in my stronghold of Sternizza + +"The father looked at his child, astonished. +was originally +The father looked at his child, astonished. + +"Sarè heaved a deep sigh of relief. +was originally +Sarè heaved a deep sigh of relief. + + +Chapter 7 + +and other such omens of ill-luck. +was originally +and other such omens o ill-luck. + + +I can tell you; will you have some more?' +was originally +I can tell you; will you have some more? + +You hear, madam? you hear, darling? +was originally +You hear, madam? you hear darling? + + +Chapter 8 + +I have lulled all his suspicions, +was originally +I have lulled all his susspicions, + + "'Tis well, +But on the holy Cross now take an oath." +was originally + "'Tis well, +"But on the holy Cross now take an oath." + +Then, waking up as from some frightful dream: +was originally +Then, waking up as from some frightful dream . + +"Here," said Bellacic, "have a glass +was originally +"Here," said Bellacic. "have a glass + +"There! listen," said he, staring vacantly; "did you not hear?" +was originally +"There! listen, said he," staring vacantly; "did you not hear?" + +"I heard a loud voice; didn't you hear it?" +was originally +"I heard a loud voice; did'nt you hear it?" + + +Chapter 10 + +"I was marvelled to hear how you fell in with the Giulianics, +was originally +"I was marvelled to hear how you fell in with the Giulanics, + +not having heard of the Giulianics for so many years, +was originally +not having heard of the Giulanics for so many years, + + +Chapter 12 + +Milenko was set free, the _pobratim_ set sail +was originally +Milenko was set free the _pobratim_ set sail + +about whom Captain Panajotti had often spoken +was originally +about whom Captain Vassili had often spoken + +I told you I'd not brook contradiction to-day. +was originally +I told you I'd not brook contradiction to day. + +Milos Bellacic, I'm quite satisfied." +was originally +Milos Bellacic, I'm quite satisfied.' + + +Chapter 13 + +she would have to keep away from the sight +was originally +she would have keep to away from the sight + + +Chapter 15 + +Sit down and rest," said she, "and let me give you +was originally +Sit down and rest," said she, and let me give you + + + +Chapter 18 + +turning to Milenko +was originally +turning to Milos + +And then he said: "My daughter, as thy suite, +was originally +And then he said: "My daughter as thy suite, + +And as she crossed the squares, the crowded streets, +was originally +And as she crossed the squares, the crowded streets + +As well as every lady of her suite, +was originally +As well as every lady of her suite + +She hastened to reply unto the saint, +was originally +She hastened to reply unto the saint + + +Chapter 19 + +young man"--pointing to Milenko--"were also +was originally +young man--pointing to Milenko--"were also + +I, Milenko Markovic, his _pobratim_; +was originally +I, Milos Markovic, his _pobratim_; + + +Chapter 21 + +at least three times what he would have asked +was originally +as least three times what he would have asked + +That evening they made a hearty meal, +was originally +"That evening they made a hearty meal, + + +Chapter 22 + +seated by a newly-dug grave?" +was originally +seated by a newly dug-grave?" + +the Count was to call on the Ambassadress +was originally +the Count was to call on the Ambrssadress + +for a few weeks afterwards we were married." +was originally +for a few week's afterwards we were married." + +"After some years the Count died, +was originally +"After some years the Baron died, + + +Chapter 23 + +Danilo Kvekvic made a short speech to the newly-married couple +was originally +Danilo Kvekvic made a short speech to the newly-married coupled + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Pobratim, by P. 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Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + https://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. diff --git a/34905-8.zip b/34905-8.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..dfd2196 --- /dev/null +++ b/34905-8.zip diff --git a/34905.txt b/34905.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..17b284a --- /dev/null +++ b/34905.txt @@ -0,0 +1,19841 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Pobratim, by P. Jones + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Pobratim + A Slav Novel + +Author: P. Jones + +Release Date: January 10, 2011 [EBook #34905] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE POBRATIM *** + + + + +Produced by Catherine B. Krusberg + + + + + + +THE POBRATIM + +A SLAV NOVEL + +BY + +PROF. P. JONES + +LONDON + +H. S. NICHOLS + +3 SOHO SQUARE and 62A PICCADILLY W + +MDCCCXCV + +[_All Rights Reserved._] + + + +_Printed and Published by_ + +H. S. NICHOLS + +AT 3, SOHO SQUARE, LONDON, W + + + +TO + +HIS HIGHNESS + +PRINCE NICHOLAS OF MONTENEGRO + +THIS BOOK IS HUMBLY DEDICATED. + + P. JONES + +TRIESTE, +17_th June_, 1895. + + + +CONTENTS + +ST. JOHN'S EVE + +THE BOND OF FRIENDSHIP + +CHRISTMAS EVE + +NEW YEAR'S DAY + +DUCK SHOOTING AT NONA + +THE BULLIN-MOST + +SEXAGESIMA + +MURDER + +THE HAYDUK + +PRINCE MATHIAS + +MANSLAUGHTER + +MARGARET OF LOPUD + +STARIGRAD + +THE "KARVARINA" + +A COWARD'S VENGEANCE + +THE VAMPIRE + +THE FACE IN THE MIRROR + +THE CONVENT OF ST. GEORGE + +THE "KARVA TAJSTVO" + +"SPERA IN DIO" + +FLIGHT + +THE "GIUSTIZIA DI DIO" + +THE WEDDING + + + + +POBRATIM + + + + +CHAPTER I + +ST. JOHN'S EVE + + +There was quite a bustle at Budua, because Janko Markovic and Milos +Bellacic had just come back from Cattaro that very morning, and--what +was really surprising--they were both getting shaved. + +Now, it has always been a most uncommon occurrence amongst us for a +man to get shaved on a Friday. + +Mind, I do not mean to say that I consider this operation as being in +any way unlucky if performed on that day. We, of course, cut our hair +during the new moon; but there is no special time for shaving. +Cutting one's nails on a Saturday brings on illnesses, as we all +know; and I, without being superstitious, can name you lots of people +who fell ill simply out of disregard to the wisdom of their elders. +Nay, I myself once suffered a dreadful toothache for having +thoughtlessly pared my nails on the last Saturday of the year. + +Shaving on Saturday, however, cannot be considered as harmful +either to the body or to the soul. Still, as we all go to the +barber's once a week, on Sunday morning, it has hitherto been +regarded as part of our dominical duties. + +There was, therefore, some particular reason that made these +prominent citizens shave on a Friday; could the reason be another +change in the Government? + +Quite a little crowd had gathered, by ones and by twos, round the +hairdresser's shop; some were standing, others sitting, some smoking, +others eating dried melon seeds--all were gravely looking at the +barber, who was holding Bellacic by the tip of his nose and was +scraping his cheek with a razor which kept making a sharp, stridulous +noise as it cut down the crisp, wiry stubble hair of almost a week's +growth. Then the shaver left the nose, for, as a tuft of hair in a +hollow spot under the cheek-bone was renitent to the steel blade, he +poked his thumb in his customer's mouth, swelled out the sunken spot +and cleaned it beautifully. He was a real artist, who took a pride in +doing his work neatly. He then wiped the ends on his finger, cast the +soap to the ground with a jerk and a snap, then he rubbed his hand on +the head of an urchin standing by. + +The barber, who was as inquisitive and as loquacious as all the +Figaros of larger towns, had tried craftily and with many an ambage +to get at the information we were all so anxious to know; but +nothing seemed to induce our clients to speak. + +"I suppose," said he, with a pleasant smile, "I'll soon have new +customers to shave?" + +"Yes? Who?" quoth Markovic. + +"Why, your sons, Uros and Milenko." + +"No, not yet; they'll not be back before some months." + +All conjectures and guesses, all suppositions and surmises were at +last at an end. The barber, although he had been a long time about +it, had finished shaving Bellacic; Markovic was now sitting down with +the towel tied round his neck. + +"This afternoon we start for Cettinje," said Bellacic, wiping himself. + +An "Ah!" of satisfaction and expectation was followed by a moment +of breathless silence. The barber stopped soaping his client's face +and turned to look at Bellacic. + +"On a diplomatic mission, of course?" he asked, in a hollow whisper. + +"On a diplomatic mission." + +"To the Vladika, eh?" + +Everyone looked significantly at his neighbor, some twisted their +long moustaches, others instinctively lifted their hands to the hafts +of their knives. They all seemed to say: "It is what we have been +suspecting from the very beginning. Montenegro will take back Cattaro +and Budua." Thereupon every face brightened. + +It was natural to surmise such a thing in those times, inasmuch as in +the course of a few years we had been shifting from hand to hand. The +French had taken us from the Venetians; then we became Russians; the +English drove the Cossacks away, and gave us over to the Austrians, +our present masters. + +"Of course, nobody goes to Cettinje without doing homage to the +Vladika. Still, our mission is not to the Prince." + +We all looked at Bellacic and at Markovic in blank astonishment. + +"You might as well tell them," said one of the friends to the other. +"Besides, it is a thing that all the town will know in a few days." + +"Well," quoth Markovic, "our mission is not a political one. We are +deputed by Radonic----" + +"By Radonic?" interrupted the shaver. "But he is not in Budua." + +"No, he is at Perasto with his ship. We saw him at Cattaro." + +"Well?" + +"And he is going to get married." + +"Married?" + +"But he is too old," said a youth, without thinking. + +"We have only the age we look," retorted an elderly man, snappishly. + +"Well, but Radonic looks old," answered the young man. + +"But to whom is he going to be married?" + +"To Milena." + +"What! Milena Zwillievic?" + +"Exactly; to the prettiest girl of Montenegro!" + +Many a young face fell, more than one brow grew cloudy, and a bright +eye got dim. + +"It is an impossible marriage," said someone. + +"A rich husband, a horned bull," quoth another. + +"But he is much older than she is." + +"We marry our sons when we like, and our daughters when we can," +added Figaro, sententiously. + +"Still, how could Zwillievic consent to take for his son-in-law a +man as old as himself?" + +"A hero of the _Kolo_." + +"And yet Zwillievic is a man with a gold head, a wise man." + +"Yes, but he has also gold hands," replied Markovic. + +"He did not follow the proverb--" added Bellacic, "'Consult your +purse, then buy.' His passion for arms ruined him; debts must be +paid." + +"We were once on board the same ship with Radonic," said one of the +friends; "so he asked me to be the _Stari-Svat_." + +"And I," added the other, "as Zwillievic is a kinsman of mine, I +must be _voivoda_." + +"Ah, poor Milena! the year will be a black one to her." + +"After all, she'll henceforth be able to sit in flour." + +"And we all have our Black Fridays." + +By this time Markovic had been shaved, the two friends wended their +way homewards, and the crowd dispersed. + +"And now," you evidently ask, "who is this Milos Bellacic and his +friend, Janko Markovic?" + +Two well-to-do citizens of Budua, the last of all Austrian towns, two +_gospodje_, but, unlike most of the Buduans and the other Dalmatians, +they were real Iugo-Slavs, Illyrians of the great Serbian stock. + +As children they had clung to one another on account of the +friendship that existed between their fathers; as they grew older +this feeling, of almost kinship, was strengthened by the many trials +they had to undergo in common, for Fate seemed to have spun their +lives out of the selfsame yarn. At fourteen they had left home, on a +schooner bound for distant coasts; later, they got shipwrecked, and +swam--or rather they were washed--ashore, clinging to the same plank. +Thus they suffered cold, hunger, "the whips and scorns of time" +together. + +From America, where they had been cast by the waves, they worked their +way to Trieste, hoping from thence to return to their native place, +ever dear to their hearts. This ill wind, so fatal, not only to the +ship, but to the remainder of the crew, proved to be the young men's +fortune. Trieste was, at the time, in the very beginning of its +mushroom growth, before that host of adventurers had flocked thither +from every part of the world with the hopes of making money. + +It is not to be wondered that, after the hard life these young men +had undergone, they understood the full strength of the Italian +proverb--"Praise the sea, but keep to the shore." Sober and +hard-working as they were, they made up their minds to try and +acquire by trade what they could hardly get by a rough seafaring +life--their daily bread and a little money for their old age. + +Strongly built, they started life as porters. Like beasts of burden, +they were harnessed to a cart the whole of the long summer days, or +else they helped to unload the ships that came in port. + +Having managed to scrape a little money together, they began to trade +on their own account. They imported from Dalmatia, wine, sardines, +carobs, and _castradina_, or smoked mutton; they exported cotton +goods. They got to be shareholders, and then owners, of a bark, a +_trabacolo_. The times were good; there was, as yet, little or no +competition; therefore money begot money, and, though they could +neither read nor write, still they soon found themselves the owners +of a sum of money which--to them--was unlimited wealth. Had they +remained in Trieste, they might have got to be millionaires, but +they loved their birthplace even more than they did riches. + +Once again in Budua, they added a good many acres of vineyards and of +olive-trees to their paternal farms, and, from that time, they lived +there in all the contentment this world can afford. They married, +but, strange to say, they were not blessed with many children; each +of them had only one son. Janko's son was, after his friend, named +Milenko; the other infant was christened Uros. + +These two children are the _pobratim_ of our story. + +"But what is the meaning of this strange word?" you ask. + +Have but a little patience, and it will be explained to you in due +time. + +Uros and Milenko had inherited with their blood that friendship +which had bound their fathers and forefathers before them. As +children, they belonged to either mother, and they often slept +together in the same trough-like cradle scooped out of the trunk +of a tree; they ate out of the same _zdila_--the huge wooden +porringer which served the family as table dish and plates; they +drank out of the same _bukara_, or wooden bottle, for, being rich +and having vineyards of their own, wine was never wanting at their +meals. + +At fourteen they, like their fathers, went off to sea, for lads must +know something of the world. Happily, however, they both came back to +Budua after a cruise of some months. Though they met with many +squalls, still they never came to any grief. + +As a rule they staid away cruising about the Adriatic and the Levant +from November to the month of August; but when the harvest-time drew +nigh, they returned home, where hands were wanted to reap and garner +such fruits as the rich soil had yielded. After the vintage was over +and the olives gathered, the earth was left bare; then they set off +with the swallows, though not always for warmer climes. It was the +time when sudden gales blow fiercely, when the crested waves begin to +roll and the sea is most stormy. + +A few months after that memorable Friday upon which Bellacic and +Markovic had got shaved, exciting thereby everybody's astonishment, +they themselves were surprised to see their sons return unexpectedly. +The fact was that, upon reaching Cattaro, the ship on which they had +embarked was sold and all the crew were paid off. As they did not +think it worth their while to look for another ship, they seized this +opportunity to go and spend the 24th of May at home, for St. John's +is "the maddest, merriest day of all the glad New Year." Moreover, +they were lucky, for the year before had been a plentiful one, whilst +the new crops promised, even now, to make the _pojata_ groan under +their weight; for whilst an empty and a scanty larder can afford but +a sorry welcome, a hospitable man becomes even lavish when his casks +are full of wine, his bins are heaped with corn, his jars overflow +with oil; when, added to this, there is a prospect of more. + +Uros and Milenko had but just arrived home when a little boy--the +youngest son of a wealthy neighbour, whose name's day was on the +morrow--appeared on the threshold of their door, and, taking off his +little cap demurely, said, in a solemn voice: + +"Yours is the house of God. My father greets you, and asks you to +come and drink a glass of wine with him. We'll chat to while away the +evening hours, and we'll not withhold from you the good things St. +John, our patron saint, has sent us." + +Having recited his invitation, the little herald bowed and went off +to bear his message elsewhere. + +The family, who knew that this invitation was forthcoming, set off at +once for their friend's house. Upon reaching the gate of their host's +garden, all the men fired off their pistols as a sign of joy, amongst +the shouts of "_Zivio_"; then, upon entering, they went up to the +_Starescina_, the master of the house, and wished him, in God's name, +many happy returns of the day. + +A goodly crowd of people had now gathered together, all bent upon +merry-making, and a fine evening they had of it; though, according to +the old men, this was but moping compared to the festivities they had +been used to in their youth. Then, hosts and guests being jolly +together, they quite forgot that time had wings, and eight days would +sometimes pass before anybody thought of leave-taking. + +On that mystic evening almost all the amusements had an allegorical or +weird character. In every game there was an attempt at divination. +Thus the first one that was played consisted in throwing a garland +amidst the branches of a tree. If it remained caught at the first +throw, the owner was to get married during the year; if not, the +number of times the wreath was tossed upwards corresponded with as +many years of patient waiting. It was considered a bad omen if the +garland came to pieces. + +When Uros threw his chaplet of flowers up it came at once down again, +bringing an old wreath that the wind and the winter storms had +respected. + +"Why," said the _Starescina_, turning to Milena, who had come to +witness the game, "surely it is your husband's wreath!" + +"Yes, I remember," added Markovic; "last year Radonic was with us, +and his garland remained in the tree the first time he flung it up." + +"Oh, Uros, fie! you'll bring Radonic ill-luck yet." + +Uros turned round, and his eyes met those of Milena for the first +time. Both blushed. There were a few moments of awkward silence, and +then the young man, touching his cap, said: + +"I am sorry, _gospa_, but, of course, I did not do it on purpose." + +"No, surely not, and, besides, it had to come down sooner or later." + +He tossed his wreath up again, but whether he felt nervous because he +had been laughed at, or because the beautiful eyes of the young +Montenegrine woman paralysed his arm, he felt himself so clumsy and +awkward that he tossed up his garland several times, but he only +succeeded to batter it as it came down again. + +"Just let me try once," said Milenko to his friend, as he cast his +wreath up in the branches of the tree, where it nestled. + +Uros made another attempt; down came his garland, bringing his +friend's together with it, amid the general laughter. + +"Uros is like the dog in the manger," said one of the bystanders; "he +will not marry, nor does he wish other people to do so." + +"Bad luck and a bad omen!" whispered an old crony to Milenko. "Beware +of your friend; nor, if I were Radonic, should I trust my pretty wife +with him. Bad luck and a bad omen!" + +After garland throwing, huge bonfires were kindled, and the +surrounding mountains gleamed with many lights. It was, indeed, a +fine sight to see the high, heaven-kissing flames reflected by the +dark waters of the blue Adriatic. + +But of all the bonfires in the neighbourhood, the _Starescina_'s was +the biggest, for he was one of the richest men of the town. It was +thus no easy matter to jump scathless over it. Still, young and old +did manage to do so, either when the flames--chasing one another +--leapt up to the sky, or else when the fire began to burn low. The +stillness of the night was interrupted by prolonged shouts of +"_Zivio!_" repeated again and again by the echoes of the neighbouring +mountains; but amidst the shouting of "Long life!" you could hear the +hooting of some owl scared by this unusual glimmering light, and +every now and then the shrill cry of some witch or some other ghostly +wanderer of the night, and the suppressed groaning and gnashing of +teeth of evil spirits, disappointed to think that so many sturdy lads +and winsome lassies should escape their clutches for a whole year; +for they have no power against all those who jump over these hallowed +bonfires on the eve of the mystic saint's day. + +"There, did you hear?" said one of the young girls, shuddering. +Thereupon we all crossed ourselves devoutly. + +"It is better not to think of them, they cannot come near us," said +the _Starescina_. + +"It is not long ago that we saw three witches burnt at Zavojane. When +was it, Bellacic?" + +"It was in 1823, in the month of August, on the 3rd, if I remember +rightly." + +"Oh! then they were real witches?" + +"Of course." + +"Were they very ugly? Had they beards?" + +"Oh, no! they were very much like all the other elderly women of the +place." + +"And what had they done?" + +"No end of mischief. One of them had eaten a child alive. Another had +taken a young man's heart out of his body whilst he was asleep. He, on +awaking--not knowing what had happened to him--felt a great void in +his chest." + +"Poor fellow!" said Milena, compassionately, whilst her glances fell +on Uros, and he actually felt like the young man who had lost his +heart. + +"But what was she going to do with it?" + +"Why, roast and eat it." + +"A friar who had witnessed the whole thing, but who had been deprived +of all power of rendering assistance, accused her of witchcraft, and +she was made to give back the heart before she had had time to devour it." + +"How wonderful!" + +"The third had rendered all the balls of the guns aimless, and all +weapons blunt and useless. But these are only some of the many evils +they had done." + +"And you saw them burnt?" + +"Yes, in the presence of the Catholic parish priest, two friars and +all the local authorities." + +The bonfires were now over, and nothing but the glowing embers +remained. All then went in the house to partake of the many good +things that St. John, or his namesake, had prepared for them. + +There was for supper: first, whole lambs, roasted on the spit, then +fish, _castradina_, and many other dishes, all more or less stuffed +with garlic--a condiment which never fails anywhere. It is said that +the gods, having been asked if this bulb was to rank amongst eatables, +decreed that no dish should ever remain without it; and the Slavs +have faithfully followed out their decree. + +When all had eaten till they were crop full, and had drunk their +fill, they all raught after their meat as seemly as Madame Eglentine; +then, loosening their belts, they remained seated on their stools, or +squatted on the ground, chatting, punning, telling anecdotes, or +listening to the grave discourses of the old men about St. John. + +"Fancy," said a deacon of a neighbouring church, "when we have fasted +for a day or two, we think we have done much. St. John, instead, +fasted for forty days and forty nights, without even taking a sip of +water." + +"But why did he fast so long?" + +"Because he had committed a great sin; and on account of this sin he +always walked with his head bent down. When the people said to him, +'John, why do you not lift up your head?' he always replied demurely, +'Because I am not worthy to lift up my eyes heavenwards; and I shall +only do so when an infant, that cannot yet speak, will bid me do it.' +Now, it happened that one day John met a young woman carrying a +little child, and when the infant saw John, he said: 'John, lift up +thine eyes heavenward; my Father has forgiven thee.' The saint, in +great joy, knowing that the babe was Jesus Christ, went at once home; +and with a red-hot iron he burnt the initials of the Saviour on his +side, so that he might never forget his name." + +"And now let's have a story," said the host. + +As Milos Bellacic was noted for his skill in relating a good story, he +was asked by everybody to tell them one of his very best tales. + +Being a man who had travelled, he knew how to treat women with more +deference than the remainder of the Buduans. So turning towards his +host's wife: + +"Which will you have?" said he. + +"Any one you like." + +"'Hussein and Ayesha'?" + +"No," said some. "Yes," added the others, without waiting for the +lady of the house to have her choice. + +"Then 'The Death of Fair Jurecevic's Lovers'?" + +"No, that was an old story." + +"Perhaps, 'The Loves of Adelin the Turk and Mary the Christian'?" + +"They all knew it." + +"Or, 'Marko Kraglievic and the Vila'?" + +"No, leave Marko to the _guzlari_." + +"Well, then, it must be 'The Story of Jella and the Macic.'" + +"Oh!" said the _gospodina_, "I once heard it in my childhood, and now +I only remember its name. Still, I have always had a longing to hear +it again; therefore, do tell it." + +Milos Bellacic swallowed another glass of _slivovitz_, leaving, +however, a few drops at the bottom of his glass, which he spilt on +the floor as a compliment to the _Starescina_, showing thereby that +in his house there was not only enough and to spare, but even to be +wasted. He then took a long pull at the amber mouthpiece of his long +Marasca cherry pipe, let the smoke rise quietly and curl about his +nose, and, after clearing his throat, began as follows: + + +THE STORY OF JELLA AND THE MACIC. + +Once upon a time there lived in a village of Crivoscie an old man +and his wife; they had one fair daughter and no more. This girl was +beyond all doubt the prettiest maiden of the place. She was as +beautiful as the rising sun, or the new moon, or as a _Vila_; so +nothing more need be said about her good looks. All the young men of +the village and of the neighbouring country were madly in love with +her, though she never gave them the slightest encouragement. + +Being now of a marriageable age, she was, of course, asked to every +festivity. Still, being very demure, she would not go anywhere, as +neither her father nor her mother, who were a sullen couple of +stingy, covetous old fogeys, would accompany her. + +At last her parents, fearing lest she might remain an old maid, and +be a thorn rather than a comfort to them, insisted upon her being a +little more sociable, and go out of an evening like the other girls. +"Moreover, if some rich young man comes courting you, be civil to +him," said the mother. "For there are still fools who will marry a +girl for her pretty face," quoth the father. It was, therefore, +decided that the very next time some neighbours gathered together to +make merry, Jella should take part in the festivity. "For how was she +ever to find the husband of her choice if she always remained shut up +at home?" said the mother. + +Soon afterwards, a feast in honour of some saint or other happened to +be given at the house of one of their wealthy neighbours, so Jella +decked herself out in her finest dress and went. She was really +beautiful that evening, for she wore a gown of white wool, all +embroidered in front with a wreath of gay flowers, then an over-dress +of the same material, the sleeves of which were likewise richly +stitched in silks of many colours. Her belt was of some costly +Byzantine stuff, all purfled with gold threads. On her head she wore +a red cap, the headgear of the young Crivosciane. + +As she entered the room, all the young men flocked around her to +invite her to dance the _Kolo_ with them, and to whisper all kinds of +pretty things to her. But she, blushing, refused them all, declaring +that she would not dance, elbowed her way to a corner of the room, +where she sat down quite alone. All the young men soon came buzzing +around her, like moths round a candle, each one hoping to be +fortunate enough to become her partner. Anyhow, when the music struck +up, and the _Kolo_ began, their toes were now itching, and one by one +they slunk away, and she, to her great joy, and the still greater +joy of the other girls, was left quite by herself. + +While she was looking at the evolutions of the _Kolo_, she saw a +young stranger enter the room. Although he wore the dress of the +Kotor, he evidently was from some distant part of the country. His +clothes--made out of the finest stuffs, richly braided and +embroidered in gold--were trimmed with filigree buttons and bugles. +The _pas_, or sash, he wore round his waist was of crimson silk, +woven with gold threads; the wide morocco girdle--the _pripasnjaca_ +--was purfled with lovely arabesques; his princely weapons, studded +with precious stones and damaskened, were numerous and costly. His +pipe, stuck not in his girdle like his arms, but 'twixt his blue +satin waistcoat--_jacerma_--and his shirt, had the hugest amber +mouthpiece that man had ever seen; aye, the Czar himself could not +possibly have a finer pipe. What young man, seeing that pipe with its +silver mounting, adorned with coral and turquoises, could help +breaking the Tenth Commandment? He was, moreover, as handsome as a +_Macic_, aye, as winsome as Puck. + +He came in the room, doffed his cap to greet the company like a +well-bred young man, then set it pertly on his head again. After +that, he went about chatting with the lads, flirting with the +lassies, as if he had long been acquainted with them, like a youth +accustomed to good company. He did not notice, however, poor Jella in +her corner. He took no part in the dances, probably because, every +Jack having found his Jill, there was nobody with whom he could +dance. + +The girls all looked slily at him, and many a one wished in her heart +that she had not been so hasty in choosing her partner, nay, that she +had remained a wallflower for that night. + +At last the young stranger wended his steps towards that corner where +Jella was sitting alone, moping. He no sooner caught sight of her +than he went gracefully up, and, looking at her with a merry twinkle +in his eyes, and a most mischievous smile upon his lips: + +"And you, my pretty one? Don't you dance this evening?" he asked. + +"I never dance, either this evening or any other." + +"And why not?" + +"Because there is not a single young man I care to dance with." + +"Oh, Jella!" whispered the girls, "dance with him if he asks you; we +should so much like to see how he dances." + +"Then it would be useless asking you to dance the _Kolo_ with me, I +suppose?" + +"Oh, Jella! dance with him," whispered the young men; "it would be an +unheard-of rudeness to refuse dancing with a stranger who has no +partner." + +"Even if I did not care about dancing, I should do so for the sake of +our village." + +"Then you only dance with me that it might not be said: 'He was +welcomed with the sour lees of wine'?" + +"I dance with you because I choose to do so." + +"Thank you, pretty one." + +The two thereupon began to go through the maze of the _Kolo_, and, as +he twisted her round, they both moved so gracefully, keeping time to +the music, that they looked like feathery boughs swayed by the summer +breeze. + +About ten o'clock the dances came to an end, and every youth, having +gone to thank his host for the pleasant evening he had passed, went +off with his partner, laughing and chatting all the way. + +"And you, my lovely one, where do you live?" asked the stranger of +Jella. + +"In one of the very last houses of the village, quite at the end of +the lane." + +"Will you allow me to see you home?" + +"If I am not taking you out of your way." + +"Even if it were, it would be a pleasure for me." + +Jella blushed, not knowing what to answer to so polite a youth. + +They, therefore, went off together, and in no time they reached her +house. Jella then bid the stranger good-bye, and, standing on the +door-step, she saw him disappear in the darkness of the night. + +Whither had he gone? Which turning had he taken? She did not know. + +A feeling of deep sadness came over her; for the first time in her +life she felt a sense of bereavement and loneliness. + +Would this handsome young man come back again? She almost felt like +running after the stranger to ask him if they would meet on the +morrow, or, at least, after some days. Being a modest girl, she, of +course, could not do so; moreover, the youth had already +disappeared. + +"Did you bring me any cakes?" was the mother's first question, +peevish at being awakened in her first sleep. + +"Oh, no! _mati_; I never ate a crumb of a cake myself." + +"And you enjoyed yourself?" + +"Oh! very much so; far more than I ever thought." + +Thereupon she began to relate all that had happened, and would have +made a long description of the young man who had danced with her, but +her father woke in the midst of a tough snore and bade her hold her +tongue. + +On the morrow there was again a party in the village, for it was +carnival, the time of the year when good folks make merry. When night +came on, Jella went to the dance without needing to be much pressed +by her parents. She was anxious to know if the young stranger would +be there, and, also, if he would dance with her or with some other +girl. + +"Remember," said her mother to her as she was going off, "do not +dance with him 'like a fly without a head'; but measure him from top +to toe, and think how lucky it would be if he, being well off, would +marry a dowerless girl like you. The whole village speaks of him, of +his weapons and his pipe; still, he might be 'like a drop of water +suspended on a leaf,' without house or home. Therefore, remember to +question him as to his land, his castle, and so forth; try and find +out if he is an only son and from where he comes, for 'Marry with +your ears and not with your eyes,' as the saying is." + +"Anyhow, take this tobacco-pouch," added the old man, "and offer it to +him before he leaves you." + +"Why?" asked Jella, guilelessly. + +"Because it is made out of a musk-rat, and so it will be easy to +follow him whithersoever he goes, even in the darkness of the night." + +Jella, being a simple kind of a girl, did not like the idea of +entrapping a young man; moreover, if she admired the stranger, it was +for his good looks and his wit rather than for his rich clothes; but +being frightened both of her father and her mother, who had never had +a kind word for her, she promised to do as she was bidden. She then +went to the party, and there everything happened as upon the +preceding evening. + +The girls all waited for the handsome young man to make his +appearance, and put off accepting partners till the last moment, each +one hoping that she might be the chosen one. The hour upon which he +had come the evening before was now past, and still they all waited +in vain. The music had begun, and the young men, impatient to be up +and doing, were heavily beating time with their feet. At last the +_Kolo_ began. They had just taken their places, and all except Jella +had forgotten the stranger, when he all at once stepped into the +room, bringing with him a number of bottles of maraschino, and cakes +overflowing with honey and stuffed with pistachios. + +He, as upon the evening before, went round the room, talking with the +young men and teazing the prettiest girls. Then he stepped up to +Jella, and asked her to dance with him. + +The _Kolo_ at last came to an end, the boys went off with the girls, +the old folks hobbled after them, and the unknown youth, putting his +arm round his partner's waist, as if he had been engaged to her, +accompanied her home. + +They soon reached her house; Jella then gave the stranger the +tobacco-pouch, and, having bid him good-night, she stood forlorn on +the door-step, to see him go off. No sooner had he turned his back, +than the father, who was holding the door ajar and listening to every +word they said, slipped out, like a weasel, and followed him by the +smell of his musk pouch. + +The night was as still as it was dark, the moon had not yet risen, a +hushed silence seemed to have fallen over nature, and not the +slightest animal was heard stirring abroad. + +The young fellow, after following the road for about a hundred paces, +left the highway and took a short cut across the fields. The old man +was astounded to see that, though a stranger, he was quite familiar +with the country, for he knew not only what lane to take, but also +what path to follow in the darkness of the night, almost better than +he did himself. He climbed over walls, slipped through the gaps in +the hedges, leapt over ditches, just as if it had been broad +daylight. + +Jella's father had a great ado to follow him; still, he managed to +hobble along, like an ungainly, bow-legged setter, as fast as the +other one capered. They crossed a wood, where the boles of the trees +had weird and fantastic shapes, where thorny twigs clutched him by +his clothes; then they came out on a plain covered with sharp flints, +where huge scorpions lurked under every stone. Afterwards they +reached a blasted heath, where nothing grew but gnarled, knotty, and +twisted roots of trees, which, by the dusky light of the stars, +looked like huge snakes and fantastical reptiles; there, in the +clumps of rank grass, the horned vipers curled themselves. After this +they crossed a morass, amidst the croaking of the toads and the +hooting of owls, where unhallowed will-o'-the-wisps flitted around +him. + +The old man was now sorely frightened; the country they were crossing +was quite unknown to him, and besides, it looked like a spot cursed +by God, and leading to a worse place still. He began to lag. What was +he to do?--go back?--he would only flounder in the mire. He crossed +himself, shut his eyes tightly, and followed the smell of the musk. +He thus walked on for some time, shivering with fear as he felt a +flapping of wings near him, and ever and anon a draught of cold air +made him lose the scent he was following. + +At last he stopped, hearing a loud creaking sound, a grating +stridulous noise, like that of the rusty hinges of some heavy iron +gate which was being closed just behind him. + +A gate in the midst of a morass! thought he; where the devil could +he have come to? As he uttered the ominous word of _Kudic_ he heard +the earth groan under his feet. + +It is a terrible thing to hear the earth groan; it does so just +before an earthquake! + +He did not dare to open his eyes; he listened, awed, and then the +faint sound of a distant bell fell upon his ears. + +It was midnight, and that bell seemed to be slowly tolling--aye, +tolling for the dead, the dead that groan in the bosom of the earth. + +A shiver came over him, big drops of cold sweat gathered on his +forehead. He sniffed the cold night air; it smelt earthy and damp, +the scent of musk had quite passed away. + +At last he half-opened his eyes, to see if he could perceive anything +of the young stranger. The moon, rising behind a hillock, looked like +a weird eye peeping on a ghastly scene. What did he see--what were +those uncouth shapes looming in the distance, amidst the surrounding +mist? + +Why was the earth newly dug at his feet, shedding a smell of clay and +mildew? + +He felt his head spinning, and everything about him seemed to whirl. + +What was that dark object dangling down, as from a huge gallows? + +Whither was he to go?--back across the wide morass, where the earth, +soft and miry, sank under his feet, where the unhallowed lights lead +the wanderers into bottomless quagmires? + +He opened his eyes widely, and began to stare around. He saw strange +shapes flit through the fog, figures darker than the fog itself rise, +mist-like, from the earth. Were they night-birds or human beings? He +could not tell. + +All at once he bethought himself that they were witches and wizards, +_carovnitsi_ and _viestitche_, the _morine_ or nightmares, and all +the creatures of hell gathering together for their nightly frolic. + +Fear prompted him to run off as fast as he possibly could, but huge +pits were yawning all around him; moreover, curiosity held him back, +for he would have liked to see where the damned store away their +gold; so, between these two feelings, he stood there rooted to the +earth. + +At last, when fear prevailed over covetousness, he was about to flee; +he felt the ground shiver under his feet, a grave slowly opened on +the spot where he stood, for--as you surely must have understood--he +was in the very midst of a burying-ground. At midnight in a +burying-ground, when the tombs gape and give out their dead! His hair +stood on end, his blood was curdling within his veins, his very heart +stopped beating. + +Can you fancy his terror in seeing a _voukoudlak_, a horrid vampire +all bloated with the blood it nightly sucks. Slowly he saw them rise +one after the other, each one looking like a drowsy man awaking from +deep slumbers. Soon they began to shake off their sluggishness, and +leap and jump and frolic around, and as the mist cleared he could see +all the other uncouth figures whirl about in a mazy dance, like +midges on a rainy day. + +It was too late to run away now, for as soon as these blood-suckers +saw him, they surrounded him, capering and yelling, twisting their +boneless and leech-like bodies, grinning at him with delight, at the +thought of the good cheer awaiting them, telling him that it was by +no means a painful kind of death, and that afterwards he himself +would become a vampire and have a jolly time of it. + +At the sight of these dead-and-alive kind of ghosts, the poor man +wished he had either a pentacle, a bit of consecrated candle, or +even a medal of the Virgin; but he had nothing, he was at the mercy +of the fiends; therefore, overpowered by fear, he fell down in a +fainting-fit. + +That night, and the whole of the following day, Jella and her mother +waited for the old man to come back; but they waited in vain. When +the evening came on, her mother persuaded her to go to the +dancing-party and see if the young stranger would come again. + +"Perhaps," said she, "he might tell you something about your father; +if not, ask no questions. Anyhow, take this ball of thread, which I +have spun myself, and on bidding him good-bye, manage to cast this +loop on one of his buttons, drop the ball on the ground, and leave +everything to me. Very likely your father has lost the scent of the +musk, and is still wandering about the country. This thread, which is +as strong as wire, is a much surer guide to go by." + +Jella did as she was bid. She went to the house where the _Kolo_ was +being danced; she spent the whole evening with the young stranger, +who never said a word about her father, and when the moment of +parting on the threshold of the door arrived, she deftly fastened the +end of the thread to one of his buttons, and then stood watching him +go off. + +The ball having slowly unwound itself, the old woman darted out and +caught hold of the other end of the string. Then she followed the +youth in the darkness, through thorns and thickets, through brambles +and briars, as well as her tottering legs could carry her, much in +the same way her husband had done the evening before. + +That night and the day afterwards, Jella waited for her father and +mother, but neither of them returned. When evening came on, afraid of +remaining alone, she again went to dance the _Kolo_. + +The evening passed very quickly, and the rustic ball came to an end. +The youth accompanied her home as he had done the evening before, and +on their way he whispered words of love in her ear, that made her +heart beat faster, and her head grow quite giddy, words that made her +forget her father and mother, and the dreaded night she was to pass +quite alone. Still, as they got in sight of the house, Jella, who was +very frightened, grew all at once quite thoughtful and gloomy. Seeing +her so sorrowful, the young stranger put again his arm round her +waist, and looking deep into her dark blue eyes, he asked her why she +was so sad. + +She thereupon told him the cause of all her troubles. + +"Never mind, my darling," said the youth, "come along with me." + +"But," faltered Jella, hesitatingly, "do you go far?" + +"No, not so very far either." + +"Still, where do you go?" + +"Come and see, dear." + +Jella did not exactly know what to do. She fain would go with him, +and yet she was afraid of what people might say about her, and again +she shuddered at the thought of having to remain at home quite alone. + +"You are not afraid to come with me," he asked; "are you?" + +"Afraid? No, why should I be? you surely would take care of me?" + +"Of course; why do you not come, then?" + +"Because the old women might say that it is improper." + +"Oh," quoth he, laughing, "only old women who have daughters of their +own to marry, say such things!" + +Thereupon he offered her his arm, and off they went. + +Soon leaving the village behind them, they were in the open fields, +beyond the vineyards and the orchards, in the untilled land where the +agaves shoot their gaunt stalks up towards the sky, where the air is +redolent with the scent of thyme, sage and the flowering Agnus castus +bushes; then again they went through leafy lanes of myrtle and +pomegranate-trees and meadows where orchis bloomed and sparkling +brooks were babbling in their pebbly beds. + +Though they had been walking for hours, Jella did not feel in the +least tired; it seemed as if she had been borne on the wings of the +wind. Moreover, all sense of gloom and sadness was over, and she was +as blithe and as merry as she had ever been. + +At last--towards dawn--they reached a dense wood, where stately oaks +and fine beech-trees formed fretted domes high up in the air. There +nightingales warbled erotic songs, and the merle's throat burst with +love; there the crickets chirped with such glee that you could hardly +help feeling how pleasant life was. The moon on its wane cast a +mellow, silvery light through the shivering leaves, whilst in the +east the sky was of the pale saffron tint of early dawn. + +"Stop!" said the young girl, laying her hand on the stranger's arm. +"Do you not see there some beautiful ladies dancing under the trees, +swinging on the long pendant branches and combing the pearly drops of +dew from their black locks?" + +"I see them quite well." + +"They must be _Vile_?" + +"I am sure they are." + +"Fairies should not be seen by mortal eyes against their wish. Then +do not let us seek their wrath." + +"Do not be afraid, sweet child; we are no ordinary mortals, you and +I." + +"You, perhaps, are not; but as for me, I am only a poor peasant +girl." + +"No, my love, you are much better than you think. Look there! the +fairies have seen you, and they are beckoning you to go to them." + +"But, then, tell me first what I am." + +"You are a foundling; the old man and woman with whom you lived were +not your parents. They stole you when you were an infant for your +beauty and the rich clothes you wore." + +"And you, who are you, _gospod_?" + +"I?" said the young man, laughing. "I am _Macic_, the merry, the +mischievous sprite. I have known you since a long time. I loved you +from the first moment I saw you, and I always hoped that, 'as like +matches with like,' you yourself might perhaps some day get to like +me and marry me. Tell me, was I right?" said he, looking at her +mischievously. + +Jella told him he was a saucy fellow to speak so lightly about such a +grave subject, but then--woman-like--she added that he was not wrong. + +They were forthwith welcomed by the _Vile_ with much glee, and, soon +afterwards, their wedding was celebrated with great pomp and +merriment. + + +"But what became of the old man and his wife?" asked an interested +listener. + +"They met with the punishment their curiosity deserved. They were +found a long time afterwards locked up in an old disused +burying-ground. They were both of them quite dead, for when they +fainted at the terrible sights they saw, the vampires availed +themselves of their helplessness to suck up the little blood there +was in them." + +"May St. John preserve us all from such a fate," said Milos Bellacic, +crossing himself devoutly. + +The story having come to an end, toasts were drunk, songs were sung +to the accompaniment of the _guzla_, the young people flirted, their +elders talked gravely about politics and the crops, whilst the women +huddled together in a corner and chatted about household matters. + +After a while, an old ladle having been brought out, lead was melted +and then thrown into a bucket of water, and the fanciful arborescent +silvery mass it formed was used as a means of divination. + +Most of the girls were clever in reading those molten hieroglyphics, +but none was so versed in occult lore as an old woman, an aunt of the +_Starescina_'s, who was also skilled in the art of curing with +simples. + +Uros and Milenko, therefore, begged the good old woman to foretell +them their future; and she, looking at the glittering maze, said to +them: + +"See here, these two are the paths of your life; see how smoothly +they run, how they meet with the same incidents. These little needles +that rise almost at marked distances are the milestones of the road; +each one is a year. Count them, and you will see that for a length of +time nothing ruffles the course of your life. But here a catastrophe, +then both paths branch out in different directions; your lives from +then have separate ends." The two young men heaved a deep sigh. + +"Anyhow, you have several years of happiness in store for you. Make +good use of your time while it is yours, for time is fleeting." + +Then, as she was rather given to speak in proverbs, she said to Uros: + +"Let your friend be to you even as a brother. Remember that one day, +not very far off either, you will owe your life to him." + +Drinking and carousing, singing and chatting, the evening came to an +end. In the early hours the guests took leave of their host, wishing +him a long and happy life, firing their pistols, not only as a +compliment to him, but also as a means of scaring away the evil +spirits. Upon reaching their houses, they bathed and washed with dew, +they rubbed themselves with virgin oil, so as to be strong and +healthy, besides being proof against witchcraft, for a whole year. + + + + +CHAPTER II + +THE BOND OF FRIENDSHIP + + +"Milenko," said Uros, "have you the least idea how people that are in +love feel?" + +Milenko arched his eyebrows and smiled. + +"No, not exactly, for I've never been spoony myself." Then, after +pondering for a moment, he added: "I should think it's like being +slightly sea-sick; don't you?" + +Uros looked amused. He thought over the simile for a while, then +said: + +"Well, perhaps you are not quite wrong." + +"But why do you ask? You are surely not in love, are you?" + +Uros sighed. "Well, that's what I don't exactly know; only I feel +just a trifle squeamish. I'm upset; my head is muddled." + +"And you are afraid it's love?" + +Uros made a sign of assent. + +"It's not nice, is it?" + +"No." + +"And you'd like to get out of it?" asked Milenko. + +"Yes." + +"Well, then, take a deep plunge. Make love to her heart and soul, as +if you were going to marry her to-morrow. Then, I daresay, you'll +soon get over it. You see, the worst thing with sea-sickness is to +mope, to nurse yourself, and fancy every now and then that you are +going to throw up. It's better to be sick like a dog for a day or +two, as we were, and then it's all over. I think it must be the same +thing with love." + +"I daresay you are right, but----" + +"But what?" + +"I can't follow your advice." + +"Why not?" + +"Because--because----" and thereupon he began to scratch his head. "I +can't make love to her." + +"Can't make love to a girl?" + +"No; for, you see, she's not a girl." + +Milenko opened his eyes and stared. + +"Who is she?" he asked. + +Uros looked gloomy. He hesitated for an instant; then he whispered: + +"Milena!" + +Milenko started back. + +"Not Milena Radonic?" + +Uros nodded gravely. + +"You are right," said Milenko seriously; "you can't make love to a +married woman. It's a crime, first of all; then you might get her +into trouble, and find yourself some day or other in a mess." + +"You are right." + +The two friends were silent for a moment; then Milenko, thinking to +have caught the dilemma by its horns, said: + +"Wouldn't it be the same thing if you made love to some other pretty +damsel?" + +Uros shook his head doubtfully. + +"Darinka, our neighbour Ivo's daughter, is a very nice girl." + +"Very." + +"Well, don't you think you might fall in love with her?" asked +Milenko, coaxingly. + +"No, I don't think I could." + +"Then there is Liepa, for instance; she is as lovely as her name; +moreover, I think she looks a little like Milena." + +"No; no woman has such beautiful eyes. Why, the first time I saw +Milena, I felt her glances scorching me; they sank into my flesh," +and he heaved a deep sigh. + +There was another pause; both the friends were musing. + +"Well, then, I'll tell you what," said Milenko, after a while; "we'll +just go off to sea again. It's a pity, but it can't be helped." + +"And the harvest?" + +"They'll have to manage without us; that's all." + +After having discussed the subject over and over again, it was agreed +that they were to sail as soon as they could find a decent vessel +that could take them both. In the meanwhile, Uros promised to avoid +Milena as much as possible, which was, indeed, no easy matter. + +The day of Milena Zwillievic's marriage had, indeed, been a Black +Friday to her. First, she knew that she was being sold to pay her +father's debts; secondly, Radonic was old enough to be her father. +Added to all this, he was a heavy, rough, uncouth kind of a fellow, +the terror of all seamen, and, as he treated his crew as if they had +been slaves, no man ever sailed with him if he could possibly get +another berth. + +Two or three days after the wedding, Radonic brought his girlish +bride to live with his mother, the veriest old shrewish skinflint +that could be imagined. She disliked her daughter-in-law before she +knew her; she hated her the first moment she saw her. Milena was +handsome and penniless, two heinous sins in her eyes, for she herself +had been ugly and rich. She could not forgive her son for having +made such a silly marriage at his age, and not a day passed without +her telling him that he was an old fool. + +During the first months poor Milena was to be pitied, and, what was +worse, everybody pitied her. She never ate a morsel of bread without +hearing her mother-in-law's taunts. If she cried, she was bullied by +the one, cuffed by the other. + +A month after the wedding, Radonic, however, went off with his ship, +and shortly afterwards his vixen of a mother died, and Milena was +then left sole mistress of the house. Her life, though lonesome, was +no more a burden to her, as it had hitherto been, only, having +nothing to do the whole day, time lay heavy on her hands. + +Handsome and young as she was, with a slight inborn tendency to +flirtation; living, moreover, quite alone; many a young man had tried +to make love to her; but, their intentions being too manifest, all, +hitherto, had been repulsed. On seeing Uros, however, she felt for +him what she had, as yet, never felt for any man, for her husband +less than anybody else. + +She tried not to think of Uros, and the more she tried the more his +image was before her eyes; so the whole of the live-long day she did +nothing else but think of him. She decided to avoid him, and still +--perhaps it was the devil that tempted her, but, somehow or other, +she herself could not explain how it happened--she was always either +at the door or at the window at the time he passed, and then what +could she do but nod in a friendly way to him? + +If she went to pay his mother a visit, she would hurry away before he +came home, and then she was always unlucky enough to meet him on her +way. Could she do less than stop and ask him how he was; besides, +after all, he was but a boy, and she was a married woman. + +Soon she began to surmise that Uros was in love with her; then she +thought herself foolish to believe such a thing, and she rated +herself for being vain. And then, again, she thought: "If he cares +for me more than he ought, it is but a foolish infatuation, of which +he will soon get rid when he goes again to sea." Thereupon she heaved +a deep sigh, and a heaviness came over her heart, at which she almost +confessed to herself that she did love that boy. + +Milena, after the conversation Uros had had with his friend, seeing +herself shunned, felt nettled and sorry. At the same time she was +glad to see that he did not care for her, and then her heart yearned +all the more for him. + +But if he shunned her, was it a sign that he did not care for her? +she asked herself. + +Puzzled, as she was, she wanted to find out the truth, merely out of +curiosity, and nothing more. + +Thus it came to pass that, standing one day on her doorstep, she +beckoned to the young man, as soon as she saw him, to come up to +her. It was a bold thing to do, nor did she do so without a certain +trepidation. + +"Uros," said she to him, "come here; I have something to ask you." + +"What is it?" said the young man, looking down rather shyly. + +"You that have travelled far and wide, can you tell me who speaks all +the languages of this world?" + +"Who speaks all the languages of this world?" echoed Uros, lifting up +his eyes, astonished, and then lowering them, feeling Milena's +glances parch up his blood. + +"Who can it be?" said he, puzzled. + +He tried to think, but his poor head was muddled, and his heart was +beating just as if it would burst. He had never been good at +guessing, but now it was worse than ever. + +"I've heard of people speaking three, four, and five languages, but +I've never heard of anyone speaking more than five." + +"What! You've been in foreign countries," quoth she, smiling archly, +and displaying her pearly teeth, "and still you cannot answer my +question?" + +"I cannot, indeed. There was a man who said he spoke twenty-five +languages, but, of course, he was a humbug. First, there are not +twenty-five languages in the world, and then he couldn't even speak +Slav." + +"Well, well; think over it till to-morrow." + +"And then?" + +"Perhaps you'll be able to guess." + +"But if I don't?" + +"Well, I shall not eat you up as the dragon, that Marko Kraglievic +killed, used to do, if people couldn't answer the questions he put +them." + +"And you'll tell me?" Thereupon he lifted up his eyes yearningly +towards her. + +"Perhaps," she replied, blushing, "but then, you must promise not to +ask Milenko." + +"I promise." + +She stretched forth her hand. He pressed it lingeringly. + +"Nor anybody else?" + +"No." + +"Then I'll tell you to-morrow." + +He bade her good-bye, and went off with a heavy heart; she saw him +disappear with a sigh. + +That whole day Uros thought a little of the riddle, and a great deal +of Milena's sparkling eyes; moreover, he felt the pressure of her +soft hand upon his palm. But the more he pondered over her question, +the more confused his brain grew, so he gave up thinking of the +riddle, and continued thinking of the young woman. On the morrow his +excitement increased, as the time of hearing the answer drew near. + +Milena, as usual, was on the watch for him, leaning on the door-post, +looking more beautiful than ever. As soon as he saw her, he hurried +up to her without being called. + +"Well," said she, with a nervous smile, "have you guessed?" + +"No." + +"Oh, you silly fellow! Who speaks all the languages of the world?" + +"It's useless to ask me; I don't know." + +"What will you give me if I tell you?" said she, in a low, +fluttering voice, and with a visible effort. + +He would willingly have made her a present, but he did not know what +she would like, and, as he looked up into her eyes to guess, he felt +his blood rising all up to his head. + +"Do you want me to bring you something from abroad--a looking-glass +from Venice, or a coral necklace from Naples?" + +No, she did not want anything from abroad. + +"Then a silk scarf?" + +"No, I was only joking. I'll tell you for nothing. Why, who but the +echo speaks all the languages of this world?" + +"Dear me, how stupid not to have thought of it. Tell me, do you think +me very stupid?" + +Milena smiled. She did think him rather dull, but not in the way he +meant. + +"You see how good I am. I tell you for nothing. Now, if you had put +me a riddle, and I could not have answered, you surely would have +asked"--here there was a catch in her voice--"a kiss from me." + +Uros blushed as red as a damask-rose; he tried to speak, but did not +know what to say. + +"Oh! don't say no; you men are all alike." + +The young man looked up at her with an entreating look, then down +again; still he did not speak. Milena remained silent, as if waiting +for an answer; she fidgeted and twisted the fringe of her apron round +her fingers, then she heaved a deep sigh. After a few minutes' pause: + +"Do you know any riddles?" she asked. + +"Oh, yes! I know several." + +"Well, then, tell me one." + +Uros thought for a while; he would have liked to ask her a very +difficult one, but the thought of the kiss he might have for it, gave +him a strong nervous pain at the back of his head. + +"Well," said he, after a few moments' cogitation--"Who turns out of +his house every day, and never leaves his house?" + +She looked at him for a while with parted lips and eyes all beaming +with smiles; nay, there was mischief lurking in her very dimples as +she said: + +"Why, the snail, you silly boy; everybody knows that hackneyed +riddle." Then with the prettiest little _moue_: "It was not worth +while leaving your country to come back with such a slight stock of +knowledge. I hope you were not expecting a kiss for the answer?" + +Uros was rather nettled by her teazing; he would fain have given her +a smart answer, but he could find none on the spur of the moment. +Besides, the sight of those two lips, as fresh and as juicy as the +pulp of a blood-red cherry, made him lose the little wit he otherwise +might have had; so he replied: + +"And if I had?" + +"You would have been disappointed; I don't give kisses for nothing." + +"But you do give kisses?" he asked, faltering. + +"When they are worth giving," in an undertone. + +Uros looked up shyly, then he began to scratch his head, and tried to +think of something tremendously difficult. + +"Well, do you know that one and no other?" she asked, laughing. + +All at once Uros' face brightened up. + +"What is it that makes men bald?" and he looked up at her +enquiringly. + +Had he had a little more guile, he might, perhaps, have seen that +this riddle of his was likewise not quite unknown to her; but he saw +nothing save her pomegranate lips. + +"Oh," said Milena, "their naughtiness, I daresay!" + +"No, that's not it." + +"Then, I suppose, it's their wit." + +"Why?" + +"They say that women have long hair and little wit, so I imagine that +men have little hair and much wit." + +"If that's the case, then, I've too much hair. But you haven't +guessed." + +"Then come to-morrow, and, perhaps I'll be able to tell you." + +"But you'll not ask anybody?" + +She again stretched out her hand to him. As he kept squeezing and +patting her hand: + +"Shall I tell you?" he asked, with almost hungry eyes. + +"And exact the penalty?" + +Uros smiled faintly. + +"Now, that is not fair; I gave you a whole day to think over it." + +"Well, I'll wait till to-morrow; only----" + +"Only, what?" + +"Don't try to guess." + +He said this below his breath, as if frightened at his own boldness. + +On the morrow he again waited impatiently for the moment to come when +he could go and see Milena. The hour arrived; Uros passed and +repassed by the house, but she was not to be seen. He durst not go +and knock at her door--nay, he was almost glad that she did not +expect him; it was much better so. + +He little knew that he was being closely watched by her, through one +of the crannies in the window-shutters. When, at last, he was about +to go off, Milena appeared on the threshold. With a beating heart the +youth turned round on his heels and went up to her. With much +trepidation he looked up into her face. + +"Does she, or does she not, know?" he kept asking himself; "and if +she does, am I to ask her for a kiss?" At that moment he almost +wished she had guessed the riddle, for he remembered his friend's +words: "It was a crime to make love to a married woman." + +"Oh, Uros, I'm like you! I can't guess. I've tried and tried, but +it's useless." + +There was a want of sincerity in the tone of her voice, that made it +sound affected, and she was speaking as quickly as possible to bring +out everything at a gush. After a slight interruption, she went on: + +"Do tell me quickly, I'm so curious to know. What is it that makes +men bald?" + +"It's strange that you can't guess, you that are so very clever," he +said, in a faltering voice. + +"What, you don't believe me?" she asked, pouting her lips in a pretty, +babyish fashion. + +Uros stood looking at her without answering; in his nervousness he +was quivering from head to foot, undecided whether he was to kiss her +or not. + +"Oh, I see, you don't want to tell me; you are afraid I'll not keep +my promise!" + +"I can ask to be paid beforehand; give me a kiss first, and I'll tell +you afterwards." + +Having got it out he heaved a deep sigh of relief, for he was glad it +was over. + +"Here, in the street?" she asked, with a forced smile. + +He advanced up to her and she retreated into the house. He was +obliged to follow her now, almost in spite of himself; moreover, he +could hardly drag himself after her, for he had, all at once, got to +be as heavy as lead. + +As soon as they were both within the house, she closed the door, and +leant her back against it. Then there was an awkward pause of some +minutes, for neither of them knew what to do, or what to say. She +took courage, however, and looking at him lovingly: + +"Now tell me, will you?" said she. + +As she uttered these words they clasped each other's hands, whilst +their eyes uttered what their lips durst not express; then, as Uros +stood there in front of Milena, he felt as if she was drawing him on, +and the walls of the room began to spin round and round. + +"Why, it is the loss of hair that makes people bald," he muttered in +a hot, feverish whisper, the panting tone of which evidently meant-- + +"Milena, I love you; have pity on me." + +She said something about being very stupid, but he could not quite +understand what it was; he only felt the swaying motion and the +powerful attraction she had over him. + +"I suppose you must have your reward now," she said, with a faint +voice. + +The youth felt his face all aglow; the blood was rushing from his +heart to his head with a whirring sound. His dizziness increased. + +Did she put out her lips towards his as she said this? He could +hardly remember. All that remained clear to him afterwards was, that +he had clasped her in his arms, and strained her to his chest with +all the might of his muscles. Had he stood there with his lips +pressed upon hers for a very long time? He really did not know; it +might have been moments, it might have been hours, for he had lost +all idea as to the duration of time. + +From that day, Uros was always hovering in the neighbourhood of +Radonic's house; he was to be found lurking thereabout morning, noon +and night. Milenko took him to task about it, but he soon found out +that if "hunger has no eyes," lovers, likewise, have no ears, and +also that "he who holds his tongue often teaches best." As for Uros, +his friend's reproaches were not half so keen as those he made to +himself; but love had a thousand sophistries to still the voice of +conscience. + +Not long after the eventful day of the riddle, Marko Radonic returned +unexpectedly to Budua, his ship having to undergo some slight +repairs. + +For a few days, Milenko managed to keep Uros and Milena apart, but, +young as they were, love soon prevailed over prudence. They therefore +began to meet in by-lanes and out-of-the-way places, especially +during those hours when the husband was busy at the building yard. At +first they were very careful, but the reiteration of the same act +rendered them more heedless. + +Uros was seen again and again at Milena's door when the husband was +not at home. People began to suspect, to talk; the subject was +whispered mysteriously from ear to ear; it soon spread about the town +like wild-fire. + +A month after Radonic had returned, he was one evening at the inn, +drinking and chatting with some old cronies about ships, cargoes and +freights. In the midst of the conversation, an old _guzlar_ passing +thereby, stepped in to have a draught of wine. Upon seeing the bard, +every man rose and, by way of greeting, offered him his glass to have +a sip. + +"Give us a song, Vuk; it is years since I heard the sound of your +voice," said Radonic. + +The bard complied willingly; he went up to a _guzla_ hanging on the +wall, and took it down. He then sat on a stool, placed his instrument +between his legs, and began to scrape its single gut-string with the +monochord bow; this prelude served to give an intonation to his +voice, and scan the verses he was about to sing. He thought a while, +and then--his face brightening up--he commenced the ballad of "Marko +Kraglievic and Janko of Sebinje." + +We Slavs are so fond of music and poetry, that we will remain for +hours listening to one of our bards, forgetting even hunger in our +delight. No sooner was the shrill sound of Vuk's voice heard than +every noise was hushed, hardly a man lifted his glass up to his +mouth. Even the passers-by walked softly or lingered about the door +to catch some snatches of the poet's song. + +The ballad, however, was a short one, and as soon as the bard had +finished, the strong Dalmatian wine went round again, and at every +cup the company waxed merrier, more tender-hearted, more gushing; a +few even grew sentimental and lachrymose. + +Wine, however, brought out all the harshness of Radonic's character, +and the more he drank the more brutal he grew; at such moments it +seemed as if all the world was his crew, and that he had a right to +bully even his betters, and say disagreeable things to everybody; his +excuse was that he couldn't help it--it was stronger than himself. + +"_Bogme!_" he exclaimed, turning to one of his friends; "I should +have liked to see your wife, Tripko, with Marko Kraglievic. Ah, poor +Tripko!" + +"Why my wife more than yours?" + +"Oh, my wife knows of what wood my stick is made; you only tickle +yours!" + +Tripko shrugged his shoulders, and added: + +"Every woman is not as sharp as Janko of Sebinje's wife, but most of +them are as honest." + +"That means to say that you think your wife is honest," said Radonic, +chuckling. "Poor Tripko!" + +"Come, come," quoth a friend, trying to mend matters, "do not spit in +the air, Radonic Marko, lest the spittle fall back on your face." + +"What do you mean by that?" asked Radonic, who, like all jokers, +could never take a jest himself. + +"I? nothing; only I advise you to be more careful how you trifle with +another man's wife--that's a ticklish subject." + +"Oh, Tripko's wife!" said he, disparagingly. + +"Radonic Marko, sweep before your own door, _bogati_!" replied +Tripko, scornfully. + +"Sweep before my door--sweep before my door, did you say?" and he +snatched up the earthen mug to hurl it at his friend's head, but the +by-standers pinioned his arm. + +"I did, and I repeat it, _bogati_!" + +"And you mean that there's dirt before my house?" asked Radonic, +scowling. + +"More than before mine, surely." + +"Come, Tripko, are you going to quarrel about a joke?" said one of +his friends. + +"My wife is no joking matter." + +"No, no," continued Radonic, "but he who has the itch scratches +himself." + +"Then scratch yourself, Marko, for surely you must itch when you're +not at home." + +"Hum!" said the host, "when asses joke it surely rains." + +Then he went up to the _guzlar_, and begged him to give them a song. +"Let it be something lively and merry," said he, "something they can +all join in." + +The bard thereupon scraped his _guzla_, silence was re-established, +and he began to sing the following _zdravica_: + + "Wine that bubbles says to man: + Drink, oh! drink me when you can; + For I never pass away, + You albeit last but a day; + I am therefore made for you, + And I love men brave and true; + Then remember, I am thine; + Drink, oh! drink the flowing wine!" + +As not one of them cared to see the quarrel continue, and end, +perhaps, in bloodshed, they all began to sing the drinking-song; the +wine flowed, the glasses jingled together in a friendly way, and, for +the nonce, peace prevailed. + +Just then, Milenko--unperceived by everybody except the landlord +--happened to come in, and the host, taking him aside, said to him: + +"Markovic Milenko, tell your friend, Uros, not to be seen fooling +about with Milena, for people have long tongues, and will talk; and, +above all, do not let him be found lurking near Radonic's house +to-night, for it might cost him his life." + +"What! has anybody been slandering him?" + +"Slandering is not the word; enough, tell him that Radonic Marko is +not a man to be trifled with." + +Milenko thanked the innkeeper, and, fearing lest his friend might be +getting into mischief, went at once in search of him. + +As Radonic was about to begin the discussion again, the host stopped +him. + +"You had better wait for an explanation till to-morrow, for when our +heads are fuddled we, like old Marija, do not see the things exactly +as they are. + +"What old Marija?" asked one of the men. + +"Don't you know the story of old Marija? Why, I thought everyone knew +it." + +"No; let's hear it." + + +Well, Marija was an old tippler, who was never known to be in her +senses. + +One morning she rose early, and, as usual, went into the wood to +gather a bundle of sticks. Presently she was seen running back as if +Old Nick was at her heels. Panting, and scared out of her wits, she +dropped on a bench outside the inn. As soon as she could speak, she +begged for a little glass of brandy. + +The people crowded around her and asked her what had happened. + +"No sooner had I left the roadside and got into the wood," she said, +"I bent down to gather some sticks, when, lo and behold! fifty wild +cats, as big as bears, with bristling hair, glaring eyes and sharp +claws, suddenly jumped out from behind the bushes. Holy Virgin! what +a fright I got, and see how scratched and torn I was by those +brutes." + +"Come, come, Marija," said the innkeeper; "you must have seen +double--you know you often do. How many cats were there?" + +"Well, I don't say there were exactly fifty, for I didn't count them; +but as true as God is in heaven there were twenty-five." + +"Don't exaggerate, Marija--don't exaggerate; there are not +twenty-five cats in the whole village." + +"Well, if there were not twenty-five, may the devil take me; surely +there were fifteen?" + +"Pooh! Marija, have another little drop, just to get over your +fright, and then you'll confess that there were not fifteen." + +Marija drained down another glass, and said: + +"May a thunderbolt strike me dead this very moment but five wild cats +pounced upon me all at once." + +"Come, Marija, now that you are in your senses, don't exaggerate. +Tell us how many wild cats there were." + +"Well, I'll take my oath that, as I bent down, a ray of sunlight was +pouring through the branches, and I saw something tremendously big +moving through the bushes; perhaps it was a cat." + +"Or a hare, running away," said the innkeeper. + +"Perhaps it was, for in my fright I instantly ran away too." + + +The men, whom wine rendered merry, laughed heartily, and the +innkeeper added: + +"You see, we are all of us, at times, like old Marija." + +As they were about to part, Radonic asked the man who had told him +not to spit in the wind what he and all the others had meant by their +innuendoes. + +"Oh, nothing at all! were you not joking yourself?" + +Still, by dint of much pressing, he got this man to tell him that +Uros Bellacic, Milos' son, had been seen flirting with Milena. "Of +course, this Uros is only a boy; still," added he, "Milena herself is +young, very young, and you--now, it is no use mincing the matter +--well, you are old, and therefore I, as a friend, advise you to be +more careful how you talk about other men's wives, for, some day or +other, you might find the laughers are against you." + +Thereupon the two men parted. + +Radonic now, for the first time in his life, understood what jealousy +was. He felt, in fact, that he had touched hell, and that he had got +burnt. Alas! his countrymen were right in thinking that Gehenna could +not be worse. + +As he walked on, the darkness of the night and his loneliness +increased the bitterness of his thoughts. He that hitherto had felt a +pleasure in disparaging every woman, was getting to be the +laughing-stock of the town, the butt of every man's jokes. + +Meanwhile, Milenko had gone in quest of his friend, his mind full of +gloomy forebodings. Passing by Radonic's cottage, he stopped and +looked round. The night was dark, and everything had a weird and +ghastly look. The leaves shivered and lisped ominously. Was it a bat +that flitted by him? + +Straining his eyes, he thought he saw something darker than the night +itself move near one of the windows of the house, then crouch down +and disappear. Had his senses got so keen that he had seen that +shadow, or was it only a vision of his over-heated imagination? + +He walked a few steps onward; then he stopped, and began to whistle +in a low, peculiar way. Their fathers had been wont to call each +other like that; and the two young men had sworn to each other that +whatever happened to them in their lifetime they would always obey +the call of that whistle. All dangers were to be overcome, all feuds +to be forgotten at that sound. They had sworn it on the image of St. +George. + +Milenko knew that if his friend was thereabouts he would not tarry a +single moment to come to him. In fact, a moment afterwards Uros was +at his side. + +Milenko explained his errand in as few words as possible. + +"Thank you," said Uros. "I'll go and tell Milena what has happened, +so that she may be on her guard." + +"But Radonic might be here at any moment." + +"I'll be back in a twinkling." + +"Anyhow, if you hear my whistle sneak off at once, and run for your +life." + +"All right." + +Uros disappeared; Milenko remained leaning against the bole of a +tree. He could hardly be seen at the distance of some steps. Snatches +of songs were now heard from afar; it was the drinking-song Vuk had +been singing. The drunkards were returning home. Soon after this he +heard the noise of steps coming on the road. Keeping a sharp +look-out, his keen eyes recognised Radonic's stalwart though clumsy +frame. He at once whistled to his friend, first in a low tone, then +louder and louder, as he came out from his hiding-place and walked on +to meet the enraged husband, and stop him on his way. Uros in the +meanwhile took to his heels. + +"_Dobro vetchir_, Radonic Marko," said Milenko to him. "How are you?" + +"And who are you, so glib with your tongue?" answered Radonic, in a +surly tone. + +"What, do you not know the children of the place?" + +"Children, nowadays, spring up like poisonous mushrooms after a wet +night. How is one to know them?" + +"Well, I am Milenko Markovic, Janko's son." + +"Ah, I thought so," replied Radonic fiercely, clasping the haft of +his knife. "Then what business have you to come prowling about my +house, making me the laughing-stock of the whole place. But you'll +not do so long." + +Suiting the action to the words, he lifted up his knife and made a +rush at the young man. + +Though Milenko was on his guard, and though the hand of the +half-drunken man was not quite steady, still it was firm and swift +enough in its movements for mischief's sake; and so he not only +wounded the young man slightly on his arm, but, the knife being +very sharp, it cut through all his clothes and scratched him, enough +to make him bleed, somewhere about the left breast. Had the blade but +gone an inch or two deeper, death most likely would have been +instantaneous. + +Milenko, quick as lightning, darted unexpectedly upon Radonic, +grasped the knife from his hand, knocked him down, and, after a +little scuffle, held him fast. Although Marko was a powerfully-built +man, still he was heavy and clumsy, slow and awkward in his +movements; and now, half-drunk as he was, it seemed as if his huge +body was no match for this lithe and nimble youth. + +When at last Radonic was fully overpowered, "Look here," said +Milenko, "you fully deserve to have this blade thrust into your +heart, for it almost went into mine. Now, tell me, what have I done +that you should come against me in this murderous way? You say that I +have been prowling about your house; but are you quite sure? And even +if I had, is it a reason to take away my life? Are you a beast or a +man?" + +"Well, when you have done preaching, either let me go or kill me; but +stop talking," said Radonic, sullenly. + +"I'll leave you as soon as I have done. First you must know that I +have hardly ever spoken to your wife. May God strike me blind if I +have! As for prowling about your house--well, half-an-hour ago I was +at the inn." + +"You were at the inn?" asked Radonic, incredulously. + +"Yes; you were all singing a _zdravica_." + +"I was singing?" + +"No; at least, I think not. You were, if I remember rightly, talking +with Livic. I only looked in. Uros Bellacic, another poisonous +mushroom, was with me." + +Just then it came to Radonic's head that this Uros, the son of Milos, +was the young man who had been flirting with his wife. + +"So your friend Uros was with you?" + +"Of course he was, and from there I accompanied him to his house, +where I left him. Now, I was going home, and the nearest way was by +your house. Had I, instead, been making love to your wife, I should +not have come up to you in a friendly way, as I did. I should have +hidden behind some tree, or skulked away out of sight. Anyhow, your +wife is young and pretty; it is but right you should be jealous." + +Milenko thereupon stretched out his hand to help the prostrate man to +rise. + +The bully, thoroughly ashamed of himself, got up moodily enough, +ruminating over all the young man had said, understanding, however, +that he had been too rash, and had thus bungled the whole affair. He +made up his mind, however, to keep a sharp look-out. + +"And now," continued Milenko, chuckling inwardly over his long-winded +speeches, made only to give his friend full time to be off, "as your +wife is perhaps in bed, let me come in and bandage up my arm, which is +bleeding; it is useless for me to go home and waken up my father and +mother, or frighten them for such a trifle. I might, it is true, go +to Uros, but it is not worth while making an ado for a scratch like +this, and have the whole town gossiping about your wife, for who will +believe that the whole affair is as absurd as it really is?" + +Radonic now felt sure that he had made a mistake, for, if this youth +had been trying to make love to Milena, he would not have asked to be +brought unexpectedly before the woman whose house he had just left. + +"Very well," replied he, gruffly, "come along." + +Having reached the cottage, he opened the door noiselessly, stepped +in as lightly as he could, and beckoned to Milenko to follow him. + +Utter darkness reigned within the house. Radonic took out his flint +and struck a light. He was glad to see that his wife was not only in +bed, but fast asleep. + +He helped the young man to take off his clothes, all stained with +blood; then he carefully washed his wounds, dressed them with some +aromatic plants whose healing virtues were well known. After this he +poured out a bumper of wine and pledged Milenko's health, as a sign +of perfect reconciliation, saying: + +"I have shed your innocent blood; mine henceforth is at your +disposal." + +With these words he took leave of him. + +Though it was late, Milenko, far from returning home, hastened to his +friend to tell him what had happened, and put him on his guard from +attempting to see Milena again. + +His advice, though good, was, however, superfluous, for Milena, far +from being asleep, had heard all that had taken place, and, as her +husband kept a strict watch over her, she remained indoors for several +days. + +When the incident came to the ears of either parent--though they +never knew exactly the rights of the whole affair, and they only +thought that it was one of Radonic's mad freaks of jealousy--both +Bellacic and Markovic thought it better to send their sons to sea as +soon as possible. + +"Having sown their wild oats," said Milos, "they can come back home +and settle into the humdrum ways of married life." + +"Besides," quoth Janko, "in big waters are big fish caught. The +shipping trade is very prosperous just now; freights are high; so +after some years of a seafaring life they may put aside a good round +sum." + +"Well," replied Milos, "the best thing would be to set them up in +life; let us buy for them a share of some brig, and they, with their +earnings, may in a few years buy up the whole ship and trade for +themselves." + +The vintage--very plentiful that year--was now over; the olive-trees, +which had been well whipped on St. Paul's Day, had yielded an +unexpected crop, so that the land, to use the Biblical pithy +expression, was overflowing, if not with milk and honey, at least +with wine and oil. The earth, having given forth its last fruits, was +now resting from its labours, but the young men, though they had +nothing more to do on shore, still lingered at Budua, no share of any +decent vessel having been found for them. + +At last the captain of a brigantine, a certain Giuliani, wishing to +retire from business in some years, agreed to take them on a trial +trip with him, and then, if he liked them and saw that they could +manage the vessel by themselves, to sell them half of his ship +afterwards. + +All the terms of the contract having been settled, it was agreed that +the two young men should sail in about a fortnight's time, when the +cargo had all been taken on board. + +Before starting, however, these youths, who loved each other +tenderly, made up their minds to become kith-and-kin to each other +--that is to say, brothers by adoption, or _pobratim_. + +As St. Nicholas--the patron saint of the opposite town of Bari, on +the Italian shores of the Adriatic--is one of the most revered saints +of the Slavs and the protector of sailors, his feast, which was +celebrated just a week before their departure, was chosen for the day +of this august ceremony. + +On the morning of that memorable day, the two young men, dressed, not +in their simple sailor-like attire, but in the gorgeous and +picturesque Buduan costume--one of the most manly and elegant dresses +as yet devised by human fancy--with damaskened silver-gilt pistols +and daggers to match, the hafts of which were all studded with round +bits of coral, dark chalcedonies and blood-red carnelians. These had +been the weapons of their great-grandfathers, and they showed by +their costliness that they were no mean upstarts, dating only from +yesterday, but of a good old stock of warriors. + +Thus decked out, and not in borrowed plumes, they wended their way to +the cathedral, where a special Mass was to be said for them. Each of +them was accompanied by a kind of sponsor or best man, and followed +by all their relations, as well as by a number of friends. + +Having entered the crowded church--for such a ceremony is not often +seen--Uros and Milenko went straight to the High Altar, and, bending +down on one knee, they crossed themselves with much devotion. Then, +taking off all their weapons, they laid them down on their right-hand +side, and lighted their huge tapers. The best men, who stood +immediately behind, and the relations, lit their wax candles, just as +if it had been the ritualistic pomp of marriage; thereupon they all +knelt down till the priest had finished chanting the liturgy, and, +after offering up the Holy Sacrament, Mass came to an end. This part +of the service being over, the priest came up to them, saying: + +"Why and wherefore come ye here?" + +"We wish to become brothers." + +"And why do you wish to become brothers?" + +"Out of love," quoth Uros, who was the elder of the two by a few +months. + +"But do you know, my children, what you really ask; have you +considered that this bond is a life-long one, and that, formed here +within the House of God, it can never be broken. Are you prepared to +swear that, in whatever circumstance of life you may be placed, the +friendship that binds you to-day will never be rent asunder?" + +"We are." + +"Can you take your oath to love and help each other as brothers +should, the whole of your lifetime?" + +"We can." + +"Well, then, swear before God and man to love each other with real +brotherly affection; swear never to be at variance, never to forsake +each other." + +The oath was solemnly taken. After this the priest administered them +the Communion--though no more mixed up with a drop of their own +blood; he gave them the pax to kiss, whilst the thurible-bearers were +swinging their huge silver censers, which sent forth a cloudlet of +fragrant smoke. The two friends were almost hid from the view of the +gazing crowd, for, the _pobratim_ being rich, neither frankincense +nor myrrh had been spared. Then the priest, in his richest stole, +placed both his hands above their heads, and uttered a lengthy prayer +to God to bless them. + +The ceremony having come to an end, the _pobratim_ rose and kissed +each other repeatedly. They were then embraced by their sponsors and +relations, and congratulated by their friends. As they reached the +church door, they were greeted by the shouts of "_Zivio!_" from all +their friends, who, in sign of joy, fired off their pistols. They +replied to their courtesy in the same fashion, and so the din that +ensued was deafening. + +Holding hands, they crossed the crowd, that parted to let them pass. +Thus they both bent their steps towards Markovic's house, for, as he +lived nearer the church than Bellacic did, he was the giver of the +first feast in honour of the _pobratim_. + +Upon entering the house, the young men kissed each other again; then +forthwith Uros kissed Janko Markovic, calling him father, whilst +Milenko greeted Uros' parents in the same way. + +Afterwards presents were exchanged by the _pobratim_, then each +member of either family had some gift in store for their +newly-acquired kinsman, so that before the day was over they had +quite a little store of pipes and gold-embroidered tobacco pouches. + +Dinner being now ready, they all sat down to a copious, if not a very +dainty meal; and the priest, who just before had asked a blessing +upon the friends, was the most honoured of all the guests. + +They ate heartily, and many toasts were drunk in honour of the two +young men, and those that could made speeches in rhyme to them. + +The feast was interrupted by the _Kolo_--a young man performing +sundry evolutions with a decanter of wine upon his head, looking all +the while as clumsy as Heine's famous bear, Atta Troll. + +Then they began again to eat and drink, and filled themselves up in +such a way that they could hardly move from the table any more, so +that by the time St. Nicholas' Day came to an end, the hosts and +almost all the guests were snoring in happy oblivion. + + + + +CHAPTER III + +CHRISTMAS EVE + + +The fierce equinoctial blasts which that year had lasted for more than +a month, were followed by a fortnight of fitful, heavy rain, +intermitted by sudden gales and stormy showers. Then after a period +of dull, drizzling, foggy weather, ending in a thick squall, the +clouds cleared up beautifully, the sun showed itself again, and +Spring apparently succeeded to Autumn. + +The wind fell entirely. Not the slightest breeze was blowing to bring +down the dry leaves, or to bicker the smooth surface of the waters. +For days and days the sea remained as even as a mass of shining +melted lead, with the only difference that it was as fathomably +liquid and as diaphanously pure as the air itself, of which it even +had the vaporous cerulean clearness. Far away on the offing, the +waters blended with the watchet airiness of the surrounding +atmosphere, so that the line of the horizon could nowhere be seen, +the blueish-grey ocean melting into the greyish-blue of the sky. +Nearer the shore, the smooth translucent sheet was streaked and +spotted with those sheeny stripes and silvery patches, which Shelley +terms a "coil of crystalline streams." + +The earth itself had a fleecy look. The shadowy opal greys of the +headlands, the liquid amethystine tints of the hills, the light +irradiated coasts, all rising out of the luminous waves, looked +lovelier even than they had done in summer, at noontide, when swathed +by a splendent haziness, for now the cold opaque clay tints themselves +looked transparent, wrapped up as they were in that vaporous pellucid +veil of mists. + +Nature was wearing now her garishly gorgeous autumnal garment, and +the foliage of the trees had acquired the richest prismatic dyes, for +the reddish russets and the glowing orange yellows predominated over +the whitish blues and the faint greens. The vegetation, but for the +funereal cypresses, had the sere hectic hue of dying life. + +The seafaring people of Budua had anything but an admiration for that +calm, soft, misty weather, or for that placid, unruffled sea; not +that they lacked the sense of beauty, but they chafed at being kept +at home, when they ought already to have been in distant parts of the +Mediterranean, or even returning from the farthermost corners of the +Adriatic. + +Thus the departure of the _pobratim_ had already been postponed for +about a fortnight, as every day they waited patiently for a +favourable wind to swell their flagging sails; but the wind never +came. The friends, however, did not fret at this delay, and now, +having stayed so long, they hoped that the calm weather would +continue a little longer, so that they might spend Christmas at home +with their families. + +Radonic had sailed off some time since. Milena, after that, had gone +to spend some weeks with her parents in Montenegro. On her return, +she kept a good deal at home, for after the fright she had had on +that eventful night when she had seen Milenko all covered with blood, +she had made up her mind to give up flirting, either with Uros or +with any other young man, and, for a short time, she kept her +resolution. Moreover, she felt that she cared for the young man far +more than she liked to confess to herself, and that she thought +oftener of him than she ought to have done, and much more than was +good for the peace of her mind. Another reason now prompted her to be +seen abroad as little as possible. + +The man who, after the quarrel at the inn, had followed Radonic to +his house, and told him of his wife's levity in her conduct towards +Uros, was a certain Vranic, one of Milena's rejected suitors. He was +more than a plain-looking man; he was mean and puny. Besides this, he +had a cast in his eye, which rendered him hateful to all people, and +justly so, for does not the wisdom of our ancients say: "Beware of a +man branded by the hand of God?" Still, as if this was not enough, +Vranic possessed the gift of second sight, if it can be called a +gift. He was, therefore, a most unlucky fellow. The priest had, it +appears, made some mistake in christening him, so that nothing ever +had gone on well with him. + +Vranic had, therefore, always been not only shunned by all the girls +as an uncanny kind of man who always saw ghosts, but even all the men +avoided him. He ought to have left Budua and gone to live abroad in a +place where he was not known, but it is a hard thing for a man to +leave his own country for ever. + +Amongst many defects, Vranic had one quality, if really it can be +called a quality. This was the stern tenacity of purpose, the stolid +opiniativeness of the peasant, the stubborn firmness of the mule, the +ant and the worm, that nothing baffles, nothing turns aside. Once +bent upon doing something, it would have been as easy to keep water +from running down a hill as make him desist from his obstinacy. +He had, in fact, the inert, unreasoning will of the Slovene. + +The day after Radonic's departure, Vranic had come again to make love +to Milena. Of course, she would not listen to him, but spurned him +from her like a cur. He simply smiled, in the half-shrewd, half-apish +way in which peasants grin, and threatened to report everything she +did to her husband on his return. He told her he would poison +Radonic's ear in such a way that her life would henceforth be +anything but a pleasure. Milena answered that, as her conscience was +quite clear, she allowed him to act as he pleased. + +In the meanwhile Uros' love was getting the mastery over him. +Milena's presence haunted him day and night; it overflowed his heart +in a way that made him feel as if he were suffering from some slow, +languishing fever. Looking upon Milena's face was like gazing at the +full moon on a calm summer night; only that this planet's amber light +shed a sense of peace on the surface of the rippleless waters, whilst +this woman's beauty made his heart beat faster and his nerves tingle +with excitement. Listening to her voice reminded him of the +love-songs he had heard the _guzlari_ chant on winter evenings +--amatory poems which heated the blood like long draughts of strong +wine. His love for her had changed his very nature; instead of caring +only for fishing and shooting, unfurling the broad sails and seeing +the breeze swell the white canvas, a yearning hitherto unknown now +filled his breast. At times he even avoided his friend, and went +wandering alone, his steps--almost unwillingly--leading him to choose +places where he had met Milena, and which were still haunted by her +presence. Many a night he would roam or linger near her house, hoping +to catch a glimpse of her; but, alas! she seldom came out, and she +was never seen either at her window or her door. Her lonely cottage +looked deserted, desolate. + +On the night when the brig was expected to weigh anchor, Uros slunk +away stealthily, when the crew were fast asleep, and went on shore. +The inns were already shut, and not a light was to be seen in any +window. He, therefore, plucked up all his courage, hastened to reach +Milena's lonely house, and there, under her casement, he sang to her +the following _rastanak_, or farewell song: + + Though cold and deaf, farewell, love; + We two must part. + But can you live alone, love, + If I depart? + + From o'er the boundless sea, love, + And mountains high, + From o'er the dark, deep wood, love, + You'll hear me sigh. + + If you are deaf to me, love, + Still on the plain + You'll see the flowers fade, love, + Seared by my pain. + + Still you are deaf to me, love, + Without a tear; + I go without a word, love, + My soul to cheer. + + I send you back those blooms, love, + Which once you gave; + For they are now to me, love, + Rank as the grave. + + Amongst those cold, grey buds, love, + A snake doth lie, + As you have not for me, love, + A single sigh. + +He finished and listened, then he heard a slight noise overhead; the +window was quietly opened, and Milena's face was seen peeping between +the cranny as she held the shutters ajar, for her beautiful, lustrous +eyes sparkled in the darkness. + +"Uros!" she whispered, "how can you be so very foolish as to come and +sing under my windows! What will the people say, if they should +happen to see you?" + +"Who can hear me in this lonely spot? Everybody is asleep, not a +mouse is stirring abroad." + +"Someone or other seems always to hang about, spying all I do. For +your sake, and for mine, go away, I beg you. After the fright I had +upon that dreadful night, I have got to be such a coward." + +"No; the truth is, after that night, you never cared for me any +more." + +"I must not care for you;" then, with a sigh, and faintly: "nor must +you for me." + +"Would it make you very happy if I forgot you--if I loved someone +else?" + +She did not give him any reply. + +"You don't answer," he said. + +"You'll forget me soon enough, Uros--far from the eyes, far from the +heart." + +"And if I come back loving you more than ever?" + +"You'll be away for a long time; when you come back----" + +"Well?" + +"Perhaps I'll be dead." + +"Don't say such things, Milena, or you'll drive me mad." + +Then, with cat-like agility, he climbed the low wall, and, with hands +clutching at the window-sill, and the tips of his _opanke_, or +sandal-like shoes, resting on some stones jutting out, he stood at +the height of her head. His other arm soon found itself resting round +her unresisting neck. He lifted up his mouth towards hers, and their +pouting lips met in a long, lingering kiss. + +But all at once she shivered from head to foot, and, drawing herself +away, she begged Uros to have pity on her and to go away. + +"Milena, it is perhaps the last time we meet; more than one ship +never came back to the port from which it sailed; more than one +sailor never saw his birth-place again." + +"But, only think, if some one passing by should see us here." + +"Well, then, let me come in, so nobody'll see me." + +"Uros, are you mad? Allow you to come in at this hour of the night!" + +"What greater harm would there be than in the broad daylight?" + +"No; if you really love me, don't ask me such a thing." + +Uros obeyed, and, after a few minutes, with the tears gushing to his +eyes, he bade her good-bye. As he was sliding down, he thought he +heard a noise of footsteps on the shingle of the pathway near the +house. Uros shuddered and listened. Was it some man lurking there, he +asked himself. If so, who could it be? Radonic had, perhaps, come +back to Budua to keep watch over his wife--catch her on the hop, and +then revenge himself upon her. The sudden fright now curdled his +blood. Still, he was not afraid for himself; he was young and strong, +and he was on his guard. Even if it was the incensed husband, the +night was too dark for anyone to take a good aim and fire from a +distance. If he was afraid, it was for Milena's sake. Radonic had, +perhaps, returned; he had seen him climb down from his own house at +that late hour. Rash as he was, he would surely go and kill his wife, +who, even if she was a flirt, was by no means as bad as what he or +the world would think her to be. + +"Anyhow," said Uros to himself, "if it is Radonic, he will either +rush at me, or fire at me from where he is hiding; or else he will go +towards his own house." His suspense would only last a few seconds. + +It lasted much longer. Many minutes passed, if he could reckon time +by the beating of his heart. In the meanwhile he tried to fathom the +darkness from whence the slight sound had come. Not being able to see +or hear anything, he went off, walking on tip-toe; but he listened +intently as he went. All at once there was again a slight rustling +sound. Uros walked on for a while, then, stepping on the grass and +crouching between the bushes, slowly and stealthily he came back near +the house and waited. Not many minutes had elapsed when he heard the +noise of footsteps once more, but he saw nobody. + +Oh! how his heart did beat just then! The sound of steps was +distinctly heard upon the shingle, and yet no human being, no living +creature, was to be seen. What could this be? + +"_Bogme ovari!_--God protect me"--he said to himself, "it is, +perhaps, a ghost, a vampire!" + +Darkness in itself is repellent to our nature; therefore, to be +assaulted at night, by any unseen foe, must daunt the bravest amongst +the brave. + +It is, then, not to be wondered that Uros was appalled at the idea of +having to become the prey of an invisible, intangible ghost, against +which it was impossible to struggle. He waited for a while, +motionless, breathless. There was not the slightest noise, nothing +was stirring any more; but in the dusky twilight everything seemed to +assume strange and weird shapes--the gnarled branches of the olive +trees looked like stunted and distorted limbs, whilst the bushes +seemed to stretch forth long waving tentacles, with which to grasp +the passer-by. As he looked about, he saw a light appear at a +distance, flit about for a while, extinguish itself, reappear again +after some time, then go out as before. Then he heard the barking of +a dog; the sound came nearer, then it lost itself in the stillness of +the night. + +Uros, horror-stricken, was about to take to his heels, when again he +heard the footsteps on the shingle. He, therefore, stood stock-still +and waited, with a heart ready to burst. He could not leave Milena to +the danger that threatened her, so he chose to remain and fall into +the clutches of a vampire. He listened; the steps, though muffled, +were those of a rather heavy man. The sound continued, slowly, +stealthily, distinctly. Uros looked towards the place from whence the +noise came, and thereupon he saw a man creep out from within the +darkness of the bushes and go up towards Radonic's house. + +Uros, seeing a human figure, felt all his superstitious fears vanish; +he looked well at it to convince himself that it was not some +deceptive vision, some skin all bloated with blood, as vampires are. +No, it was a man. Still, who could it be, he was too short and puny +to be Radonic? + +Who could this man be, going to Milena's in the middle of the night? + +A bitter feeling of jealousy came over him, a steel hand seemed to +grasp his heart. Milena had just been flirting with him, could she +not do the same with another man. She had listened to his vows of +love, he had been a fool to go off when she begged him to remember +that she was another man's wife. At that moment he hated her, and he +was vexed with himself. + +There are moments in life when we repent having been too good, for +goodness sometimes is but a sign of weakness and inexperience; it +only shows our unfitness for the great struggle of life, where the +weak go to the wall. + +During the time that Radonic had been at home he had never felt the +bitter pangs of jealousy as much as he did now. It humbled him to +think that he had left his place to another more fortunate rival, +apparently an older man. + +Then he asked himself how he could have been so foolish as to love a +married woman. + +"After all," said he to himself, "it is but right that I should +suffer, why have I lifted up my eyes upon a woman who has sworn to +love another man?" + +He had sinned, and he was now punished for his crime. + +When flushed with success the voice of conscience had ever been mute, +but now, when disappointment was sinking his heart, that voice cried +out loudly to him. Conscience is but a coward at best, a sneak in +prosperity, a bully in our misfortune. + +There in the darkness of the night, lifting his eyes up towards +heaven, he called upon the blessed Virgin to come to his help. + +"Oh! immaculate mother of Christ our Saviour, grant me the favour of +seeing that this man is no fortunate rival, that he is not Milena's +lover, and henceforth I shall never lift up my eyes towards her, even +if I should have to crush my heart, I shall never harbour in it any +other feeling for her except that of a brother or a friend." + +During this time the man had gone up to the cottage door. Almost +unthinkingly and with the words of the prayer upon his lips, Uros +stood up, went a step onwards, and then he stopped. The man now +tapped at the door. A pause followed. The man knocked again a little +louder. Thereupon Milena's voice was heard from within. Though Uros +was much too far to hear what she had said, he evidently understood +that she was asking who was outside; the young man, treading on the +grass as much as he could, stole on tip-toe a little nearer the +house. + +He could not catch the answer the man had given, for it was in a low +muffled undertone. + +"Who are you?" repeated Milena from inside, "and what do you want?" + +"It is I, Uros," said the man in a muffled tone; "open your door, my +love." + +"Liar," shouted Uros from behind, and with a bound he had jumped upon +the man and, gripping him by the nape of the neck and by the collar +of his _jacerma_, he tugged at him and dragged him away from the +door. + +As the man struggled to free himself, Uros recognised him to be +Vranic--Vranic the ghost-seer, Vranic the spy. + +"How dare you come here in my name, you scoundrel," said the young +man, and giving him a mighty shake, that tore the strong cloth of the +jacket, he cast him away. + +"And pray what are you doing here at this time of the night?" asked +Vranic, his hand on the haft of his knife. + +"And what is that to you--are you her husband or her kinsman? But as +you wish to know, I'll tell you; I came to protect her from a +dastardly coward like yourself." + +"I doubt whether Radonic will be glad to hear that you go sneaking +into his house at the dead of night, just to keep his wife from any +harm; that is really good of you." And Vranic, standing aloof, burst +out laughing. Then he added, "Anyhow, he'll be most grateful to you +when he knows it." + +"And who'll tell him?" + +"I shall." + +"If I let you, you spy." + +Thereupon Uros rushed upon Vranic so unexpectedly, that the latter +lost his balance, slipped and fell. The younger man held him down +with one hand, and with the other he lifted up his dagger. Seeing +himself thus overpowered: + +"What, are you going to murder me like that?" he gasped out, "do you +not see that I was joking? If you'll but let me go I'll swear not to +say a word about the matter to anyone." + +"On what will you swear?" + +"On anything you like, on the holy medals round my neck." + +With a jerk that almost choked the man, Uros broke the string and +snatched the amulets from Vranic's neck, and presented them to him, +saying: + +"Now, man, swear." + +Vranic took his oath. + +"Now," said Uros, "swear not to harm Milena while I am away, swear +not to worry her by your threats, or in any other way soever." + +Vranic having sworn again, was left free to get up and go off. + +When he was at a few paces from Uros he stopped, and with a scowl +upon his face he muttered: + +"Those medals were not blessed, so you can use your dagger now, if +you like, and I shall use my tongue, we shall see which of us two +will suffer most; anyhow, remember the proverb, 'Where the goat +breathes, even the vine withers.'" + +Then, stooping down, he gathered a handful of stones and flung them +with all his might at Uros, after which he took to his heels and ran +off with all his might. + +The stones went hissing by Uros, but one of them caught him on his +brow, grazing off the skin and covering his eyes with blood. Uros, +blinded by the stone, remained standing for a while, and then, seeing +that Vranic had run off, he went up to Milena's door and tapped +lightly. + +"Milena," said he, "have you heard the quarrel I have had with +Vranic?" + +"Yes, did he hurt you?" + +"Only a mere scratch." + +"Nothing more?" + +"No." + +"Surely?" + +"No, indeed!" + +Milena would willingly have opened the door to see if Uros was only +scratched, but she was in too great a trepidation to do so. + +"Well," added she, "if you are not hurt, please go away." + +"But are you not afraid Vranic might come back?" + +"Well, and if he does? He'll find the door shut as before. Moreover, +I'm by no means afraid of him, he is the greatest coward, or at least +the only coward, of the town; therefore do not stay here on my +account, you can do me no good." + +"Then you do not want me?" said Uros, in a lingering way, and with a +sigh. + +"No; go," quoth she. "If you love me, go." + +Uros turned his back on the cottage and wended his steps homewards. +The moon was now rising above the hills in the distance. Milena went +to the window and looked at the young man going off. Her heart +yearned after him as he went, and she fain would have called him +back. + +Poor fellow, he had fought for her, he was wounded, and now she let +him go off like that. It was not right. Was his wound but a scratch? +She ought to have seen after it. It was very ungrateful of her not to +have looked after it. + +All at once Uros stopped. Her heart began to beat. He turned round +and came back on his steps. At first she was delighted, then she was +disappointed. She wished he had not turned back. + +He walked back slowly and stealthily, trying to muffle his steps. + +What was he going to do? + +Milena ran to the door and put her ear close to the key-hole. + +She heard Uros come up to the very sill and then it seemed to her +that he had sat or crouched upon the step. + +Was he hurt? Was he going to stay there and watch over the house like +a faithful dog? + +She waited a while; not the slightest sound was heard; she could +hardly keep still. At last, unable to bear it any longer: + +"Uros," said she, "is that you?" + +"Yes." + +"And what are you doing there?" + +"I was going to watch over you." + +Overcome by this proof of the young man's love, Milena slowly opened +the door, and taking Uros by both his hands she made him come in. + +The wind did not rise and the brigantine rode still at anchor in the +bay. The days passed, and at last merry Christmas was drawing near. +The _pobratim_--though anxious to be off--hoped that the calm weather +would last for a week longer, that they might pass the +_badnji-vecer_--or the evening of the log--and Christmas Day with +their parents. + +Their wishes were granted; one day passed after the other and the +weather was always most beautiful. Not the slightest cloud came +either to dim or enhance the limpid blue sky, and though the mornings +were now rather fresh, the days were, as yet, delightfully warm and +radiant with sunshine. In the gardens the oleanders were all in full +bloom, so were also the roses, the geraniums and the China asters; +whilst in the field many a daisy was seen glinting at the modest +speedwell, and the Dalmatian convolvulus entwined itself lovingly +around the haughty acanthus, which spread out their fretted leaves to +the sun, taking up as much space as well they could, while in damp +places the tall, feathery grasses grew amidst the sedges, the reeds, +and the rushes and all kinds of rank weeds of glowing hues. Not a +breath of wind came to ripple the surface of the shining blue waters. + +On the 24th a little cloud was seen far off, the colour of the waters +grew by degrees of a dull leaden tint, and the wind began to moan. In +the meanwhile the cloudlet that had been the size of a weasel grew to +be as big as a camel, then it swelled out into the likeness of some +huge megatherium, it rolled out its massy coils and overspread the +whole space of the sky. Then the clouds began to lower, and seemed to +cover the earth with a ponderous lid. The wind and the cold having +increased, the summer all at once passed away into dreary and bleak +winter. + +Christmas was to be kept at Milos Bellacic's house, for though the +two families had always been on the most friendly terms, they, since +the day upon which the two young men had become _pobratim_, got to be +almost one family. Some other friends had been asked to come and make +merry with them on that evening. Amongst other guests Zwillievic, +Milena's father, who was a cousin of Bellacic's, having come with his +wife to spend the Christmas holidays at Budua, had accepted his +kinsman's hospitality. Milena had also been asked to come and pass +those days merrily with her parents. + +At nightfall, all the guests being already assembled, the yule-log, +the huge bole of an olive tree, was, with great ado, brought to the +house. Bellacic, standing on the threshold with his cap in his hand, +said to it: + +"Welcome log, and may God watch over you." + +Then, taking the _bucara_ or wooden bottle, he began to sprinkle it +with wine, forming a cross as he did so, then he threw some wheat +upon it, calling a blessing upon his house, and upon all his guests, +who stood grouped behind him, after which all the guests answered in +chorus, "And so be it." Thereupon all the men standing outside the +house fired off their guns and pistols to show their joy, shouting: +"May Christmas be welcome to you." + +After this Uros brought in his own log and the same ceremony had once +more to be gone through. + +The logs were then festively placed upon the hearth, where they had +to burn the whole night, and even till the next morning. + +In the meantime a copious supper was prepared and set upon the table. +In the very midst, taking the place of an _epergne_, there was a +large loaf, all trimmed up with ivy and evergreens, and in the centre +of this loaf there were thrust three wax candles carefully twisted +into one, so as to form a taper, which was lit in honour of the Holy +Trinity. Christmas Eve being a fast day, the meal consisted of fish +cooked in different ways. + +First, there was a pillau with scallops, then cod--which is always +looked upon as the staple fare of evening--after which followed +pickled tunny, eels, and so forth. The _starescina_, taking a +mouthful of every dish that was brought upon the table, went to throw +it upon the burning log, so that it might bring him a prosperous +year; his son then followed his example. + +After all had eaten and were filled, they gathered around the hearth +and squatted down upon the straw with which the floor was strewn +--for, in honour of Christ, the room had been made to look as much as +possible like a manger, or a stable. They again greeted each other +with the usual compliments, "for many years," and so forth, and black +coffee was served in Turkish fashion, that is, in tiny cups, held by +a kind of silver, or silvered metal, egg-cup instead of a saucer. +Most everyone loosened his girdle, some took off their shoes, and all +made themselves comfortable for the night. Thereupon Milenko, who was +somewhat of a bard and who had studied an epic song for the +occasion, one of those heroic and wild _junaske_, took his _guzla_, +and gave the company the story of "Marko Kraglievic and the Moor of +Primorye," as follows:-- + + +KRAGLIEVIC MARKO I CRNI ARAPIN. + + An Arab lord had once in Primorye, + A mighty castle by the spray-swept shore; + Its many lofty halls were bright and gay, + And Moorish lads stood watching at each door. + Albeit its wealth, mirth never echoed there; + Its lord was prone to be of pensive mood, + And oft his frown would freeze the very air; + On secret sorrow he e'er seemed to brood. + At times to all his _svati_ would he say: + "What do I care for all this wide domain, + Or for my guards on steeds in bright array? + Much more than dazzling pomp my heart would fain + Have some fond tie so that the time might seem + Less tedious in its flight. I am alone. + A mother's heart, a sister's, or, I deem, + A bride's would be far more than all I own." + Thus unto him his liegemen made reply: + "O, mighty lord! they say that Russia's Czar + Has for his heir, a daughter meek and shy, + Of beauty rare, just like the sparkling star + That gleams at dawn and shines at eventide. + Now, master, we do wait for thy behest. + Does thy heart crave to have this maid for bride? + Say, shall we sally forth unto her quest?" + The master mused a while, then answered: "Aye, + By Allah! fetch this Russian for my mate! + Tell her she'll be the dame of Primorye, + The mistress of my heart and my estate. + But stop.--If Russia should not grant his child, + Then tell him I shall kill his puny knights, + And waste his lands. Say that my love is wild, + Hot as the Lybian sun, deep as the night!" + Now, after riding twenty days and more, + The _svati_ reached at last their journey's end, + Then straightway to the Russian King they bore + Such letters as their lord himself had penned. + The great Czar having read the Moor's demand, + And made it known to all his lords at Court, + Could, for a while, but hardly understand + This strange request; he deemed it was in sport. + A blackamoor to wed his daughter fair! + "I had as lief," said he, "the meanest lad + Of my domains as son-in-law and heir, + Than this grim Moor, who must in sooth be mad." + But soon his wrath was all changed into grief, + On learning to his dread and his dismay, + That not a knight would stir to his relief, + No one would fight the Moor of Primorye! + Howe'er the Queen upon that very night + Did dream a dream. Within Prilipu town, + Beyond the Balkan mounts, she saw a knight, + Whose mighty deeds had won him great renown. + (Kraglievic Marko was the hero's name); + His flashing sword was always seen with awe + By faithless Turks, who dreaded his great fame; + And in her dream that night the Queen then saw + This mighty Serb come forth to save her child. + Then did the Czarin to her lord relate + The vision which her senses had beguiled, + And both upon it long did meditate. + Upon the morrow, then, the Czar did write + To Marko, asking him to come and slay + This haughty Moor, as not a Russian knight + Would deign to fight the lord of Primorye. + As meed he promised him three asses stout, + Each laden with a sack of coins of gold. + As soon as Marko read this note throughout, + These words alone the messenger he told: + "What if this Arab killed me in the strife, + And from my shoulders he do smite my head. + Will golden ducats bring me back to life? + What do I care for gold when I am dead?" + The herald to the King this answer bore. + Thereon the Queen wrote for her daughter's sake: + "Great Marko, I will give thee three bags more, + Six bags in all, if you but undertake + To free my daughter from such heinous fate, + As that of having to become the bride + Of such a man as that vile renegade." + To Prilipu the messenger did ride, + But Marko gave again the same reply. + The Czar then summoned forth his child to him: + "Now 'tis thy turn," said he; "just write and try + To get the Serb to kill this man whose whim + Is to have thee for wife." The maid thus wrote: + "O Marko, brother mine, do come at once. + I beg you for the love that you devote + To God and to St. John, come for the nonce + To free me from the Moor of Primorye. + Seven sacks of gold I'll give you for this deed, + And, if I can this debt of mine repay, + A shirt all wrought in gold will be your meed. + Moreover, you shall have my father's sword; + And as a pledge thereon the King's great seal, + Which doth convey to all that Russia's lord + Doth order and decree that none shall deal + Its bearer harm; no man shall ever slay + You in his wide domains. Come, then, with speed + To free me from the lord of Primorye." + To Prilipu the herald did proceed + With all due haste; he rode by day and night, + Through streams and meads, through many a bushy dell; + At last at Marko's door he did alight. + When Marko read the note, he answered: "Well--" + Then mused a while, then bade the young page go. + But said the youth: "What answer shall I give?" + "Just say I answered neither yes nor no." + The Princess saw that she would ne'er outlive + Her dreadful doom, and walking on the strand, + There, 'midst her sobs, she said: "O thou deep sea, + Receive me in thy womb, lest the curst brand + Of being this man's wife be stamped on me." + Just when about to plunge she lifts her eyes, + And lo! far off, a knight upon a steed, + Armed cap-a-pie, advancing on, she spies. + "Why weepest thou, O maid? tell me thy need, + And if my sword can be of any use . . ." + "Thanks, gentle sir. Alas! one knight alone + Can wield his brand for me; but he eschews + To fight." + "A coward, then, is he." + "'Tis known + That he is brave." + "His name?" + "He did enrich + The soil with Turkish blood at Cossovo. + You sure have heard of Marko Kraglievic." + Thereon he kissed her hand and answered low: + "Well, I am he; and I come for your sake. + Go, tell the Czar to give thee as a bride + Unto the Moor; then merry shall we make + In some _mehan_, and there I shall abide + The coming of the lord of Primorye." + The Princess straightway told the Czar, and he + At once gave orders that they should obey + All that the Serb might bid, whate'er it be. + That night with all his men the Arab came-- + Five hundred liegemen, all on prancing steeds; + The Czar did welcome them as it became + Men high in rank, and of exalted deeds. + Then, after that, they all went to the inn. + "Ah!" said the Moor, as they were on their way, + "How all are scared, and shut themselves within + Their homes; all fear the men of Primorye." + But, as they reached the door of the _mehan_, + The Arab, on his horse, would cross the gate, + When, on the very sill, he saw a man + Upon a steed. This sight seemed to amate + The Arab lord. But still he said: "Stand off! + And let me pass." + "For you, this is no place, + Miscreant heathen dog!" + At such a scoff + Each angry liegeman lifted up his mace. + Thereon 'twixt them and him ensued a fight, + Where Marko dealt such blows that all around + The din was heard, like thunder in the night. + He hacked and hewed them down, until a mound + Of corpses lay amid a pool of blood, + For trickling from each fearful gash it streamed, + And wet the grass, and turned the earth in mud + Of gore; whilst all this time each falchion gleamed, + For Marko's sword was ruthless in the fray, + And when it fell, there all was cleaved in twain; + No coat of mail such strokes as his could stay, + Nor either did he stop to ascertain + If all the blood that trickled down each limb + Was but that of the foe and not his own. + And thus he fought, until the day grew dim, + And thus he fought, and thus he stood alone + Against them all; till one by one they fell, + As doth the corn before the reaper's scythe, + Whilst their own curses were their only knell! + The Serb, howe'er, was still both strong and lithe, + When all the swarthy Arabs round him lay. + "Now 'tis thy time to die, miscreant knight!" + He called unto the Moor of Primorye. + With golden daggers they began to fight; + They thrust and parried both with might and main; + But soon the Arab sank to writhe in pain. + Then Marko forthwith over him did bend + To stab him through the heart. Then off he took + His head, on which he threw a light cymar + (For 'twas, indeed, a sight that few could brook): + Thus covered up, he took it to the Czar. + Then Marko got the Princess for his wife-- + Besides the gold that was to be his meed, + And from that day most happy was his life, + Known far and wide for many a knightly deed. + + +The merry evening came to an end; in the meanwhile the weather had +undergone another transformation. The cold having set in, the thin +sleet had all at once changed into snow. The tiny patches of ice and +the little droplets of rain had swelled out into large fleecy flakes, +which kept fluttering about hither and thither, helter-skelter, +before they came down to the ground; they seemed, indeed, to be +chasing one another all the time, with the grace of spring +butterflies. Even when the flakes did fall it was not always for +long, for the wind, creeping slily along the earth, often lifted them +up and drove them far away, whirling them into eddies, till at last +they were allowed to settle down in heaps, blocking up doors and +windows; or else, flying away, they ensconced themselves in every +nook and corner, in every chink and cranny. + +That evening, when the good Christians went to church to hear the +oft-repeated tidings of great joy, uttered by the _vladika_, or +priest, in the sacramental words: _Mir Bogig, Christos se rode_, or +"The peace of God be with you, Christ is born"; and when, after +midnight, they returned home, while huge logs were blazing on every +hearth, they hardly knew again either the town or its neighbourhood, +all wrapped up in a mantle of dazzling whiteness; the sight was a +rather unusual one, for the inhabitants of Budua had seen snow but +very seldom. + +The whole Christmas Day was spent very pleasantly in going about from +house to house, wishing everyone joy and happiness, or receiving +friends at home and drinking bumpers to their health. It was, indeed, +a merry, forgiving time, when the hearts of men were full of +kindness and good-will, and peace reigned upon earth. + +There were, indeed, some exceptions to the general rule of +benevolence, for, now and then, some man, even upon that hallowed +day, bore within his breast but a clay-cold heart, in which grudge, +envy and malice still rankled, and the Christmas greetings, wheezed +through thin lips, had but a chilling and hollow sound. + +The very first person who came to Bellacic's house early on Christmas +morning was Vranic, the spy. It was not out of love that he came. He +had been sneaking about the house, casting long, prying glances from +beneath the hood of his _kabanica_, or great-coat, trying to find out +whether Milena were there, for he knew that she had not passed the +night in her own house. + +All at once, whilst he was sneaking about, he was met by several +young men, bent on their Christmas rounds of visits; they took him +along with them, and, though quite against himself, he was the first +to put his foot in Bellacic's house upon that day. + +According to the Slav custom, he was asked, after the usual +greetings, to tap the yule log with his stick. He at once complied, +with as much good grace as he could muster, uttering the well-known +phrase: + +"May you have as many horses, cows, and sheep as the _badnjak_ has +given you sparks." + +Knowing that while he was saying these words every member of the +family, and every guest gathered together around him, would hang upon +his looks, trying to read in his face whether the forthcoming year +would be a prosperous one, for the expression of the features, as +well as the way in which these words are uttered, are reckoned to be +sure omens, Vranic, therefore, tried to put on a pleasant look and a +good-natured appearance, but this was so alien to his nature that he +was by no means sure of success. + +Uros and Milena had, however, stood aloof; they had understood that +the prediction must be unfavourable, and, though they did not look +up, they heard that the voice, which was meant to be soft and oily, +was bitter, hard and grating. + +A gloom had come over the house just then; it seemed as if that man +of ill-omen had stepped in to damp everyone's joy. + +Uros remained stock-still, and though his fingers instinctively +grasped the handle of his knife, still he was too much of a Slav to +harm a guest in his own house. As for Milenko, not having any reasons +for being so forbearing, he was about to thrust the fiend out of his +adopted parents' house, when Vranic, drawing back from the hearth, +caught his foot on the fag end of a log, and, not to fall, stepped +over it. This was the remainder of that log which Uros had himself +put upon the fire, and, according to the traditional custom, it had +been taken away from the hearth before it had been quite consumed, +for it was to be kept, as the fire on New Year's Eve was to be +kindled with it. Vranic hardly noticed what he had done, but everyone +present looked stealthily at one another, and quietly crossed +themselves. Vranic, they knew, had come with evil thoughts in his +head, but now he had only brought harm upon himself, for it is well +known that whoever steps over a _badnjak_ is doomed to die within the +year. + +The seer went off soon after this, and then, when the other +well-wishers came, the gloom that he had left behind him was +dispelled, and the remainder of the Christmas Day was spent in mirth +and jollity. + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +NEW YEAR'S DAY + + +On the last day of the year the _pobratim_ were sailing on the waters +of the Adriatic not far from the island of Lissa, now famed in +history for its naval wars. Soon the sun went down behind a huge mass +of grey clouds, and night set in when the vessel was about to sail +amidst that maze of inlets, straits, channels and friths, which +characterise all that part of the Dalmatian coast. But, though the +night was dark and wild, their schooner was strong and stout, and +accustomed to weather such heavy seas. + +A head-wind arose, which first began to shiver amidst the rigging +like a human being sick of a fever; then it changed into a slight +wailing sound, so that it seemed at times the voice of a suffering +child tossing about in its cot unable to find rest. The wind +increased, and the sound changed into a howl like the rage of untamed +beasts; it was a horrible concert, where serpents hissed, wild cats +mewed and lions roared in and out of time and tune; but not without a +strange, weird, uncouth harmony. It was the voice of the storm. Great +Adamastor, the genius of the foul weather, baffled at not being able +to snap all the ropes asunder and break down the straining masts, was +yelling with impotent rage. He was, withal, a cunning old man and +knew more than one trick, for, after holding his breath for a while, +he would whisper no louder than a mother does when her babe is +asleep, and then again, he would begin to snicker slily in a low, +snorting way, until, all at once, he broke loose into loud fits of +fiendish, hoarse merriment. + +Added to this head-wind, a heavy sea rolled its huge waves against +the prow of the ship and dashed the spray of its breakers up its very +sails; then the strong rain would come down in showers at every gust +of wind. The elements seemed, indeed, bent upon overwhelming the poor +craft groaning at this ill-treatment. + +Eleven o'clock having just struck, Uros went below and Milenko got +ready to take up his watch. + +Poor Uros! he was not only weary and wet to the skin--for his huge +_kabanica_, or overcoat, had been of little avail against the pelting +rain--but, worse than that, for the first time in his life he felt +home-sick and love-sick. He remembered the pleasant Christmas Eve, +the last night but one which he had passed at home. Whilst the wind +howled and the waves rolled high he recalled to mind the many +incidents of that evening, which had been for him the happiest of his +life, and there, in the darkness of the night, Milena's bright and +laughing eyes were always twinkling before him. Her sweet looks, +which he had drunk down like intoxicating wine, had maddened his +brain. + +Hitherto Uros had been passionately fond of the sea, and his great +ambition was to be one day the master of a ship. Now that his dream +seemed about to be realised even beyond his wildest ambition--for the +brig was really a fine ship--his heart was far behind on shore, and +the sea had lost its charm. That night especially he wished he could +have been back by his own fireside watching the remainder of the +yule-logs as they burnt away into cinders. + +When Uros came down, the captain brought out a bottle of some rare +old genuine cognac, which on some former voyage he himself had got at +Bordeaux. Punch was made, Milenko was called down and toasts were +drunk to the health of the absent ones, songs were sung about the +pleasantness of a life upon the wide, wide sea; but the voice of the +waves seemed to jeer them, and then the captain fell a-thinking that +he was growing of an age when it was far more agreeable to remain +amidst his little brood at home. As for poor Uros, he thought of the +woman who lived in a lonely cottage, and he wondered whether harm +might not befal her, now that he was no more there to watch over her. +He thought that, after all, it was useless to go roaming about the +world when he might remain at home tilling his father's fields. +Milenko alone was of a cheerful mood; perhaps it was because he +thought less of himself and more of those around him. + +Milenko came and went up and down like a squirrel, keeping his watch +and trying to cheer his friend. Still, each time he went up and +looked about, he found that the wind was stronger and the waves +rolled higher. Meanwhile the captain, roused to a sense of duty, +tried to enliven the passing hours by telling old tales, comical +adventures, and strange sea legends. + +Soon the storm increased apace, and Milenko had to remain on deck; +but Uros, being tired and sleepy, was about to betake himself to +rest. Midnight had just struck, and the hands of the clock were on +twelve, a last cup was drained, and the three seamen having thus seen +the old year out and the new year in, separated and each one went his +own way. The clock withal was rather fast, and it was only some +moments after they had separated from one another that the old year +breathed its last. + +Before going to rest, Uros, who had slightly bruised his forehead +just where Vranic had cut him with the stone, went to his chest and +took out of it a small round tin looking-glass and opened it. He +wished to see what kind of a scratch it had left, and if the scar +were healing. He had scarcely cast his eyes upon it when, to his +great surprise, lo, and behold! far from seeing his own face in the +glass, Vranic's likeness was there, staring upon him with his usual +leer! + +Uros was startled at this sight; then, for a while he stood as if +transfixed, gloating on the image within the glass, unable to turn +away his eyes from it. Then, appalled as he was, he almost dropped +the looking-glass he was holding. + +All at once remembering that it was midnight--the moment when the old +year passes into oblivion and the new one rises from chaos--his hand +fell, and he stood for a while, pale, shuddering, and staring upon +vacancy. But--recalled to himself--he endeavoured to retrace the long +string of thoughts that had flitted through his brain, since he had +left the captain and Milenko up to the moment that he had looked upon +the glass, and Vranic was not amongst them. His brain had been +rather muddled by sleepiness and brandy, and he had hardly been +thinking about anything. + +Having lifted up the glass to the height of his face, he for a moment +held his head averted, for he had really not the courage to look upon +it. + +After a while he shrugged his shoulders, muttering to himself: "I +have always been thinking of Milena, and of the last days I passed at +home, so that now this man's face--such as I had seen it on Christmas +morning--has been impressively recalled to my mind. It must be this +and nothing more." + +Still, the moment when he tried again to look upon the glass, a vague +terror came over him, and all his courage passed away; it was just as +if he were looking upon some unhallowed thing, as if he were +indulging in witchcraft. But curiosity prevailed once more, and as he +did so, a trepidation came all over his limbs. This time he was +surely not mistaken; it was no vision of his overheated fancy, seen +with his mind's eye; sleepiness and the effect of the brandy had +quite passed away, and still the glass--instead of reflecting his own +features--was the living portrait of the man he hated. There he was, +with his low forehead, his livid complexion, his pale greyish-green +eyes, his high cheekbones and his flat nose. + +He was almost impelled to dash down the glass and break it into +pieces, but still he durst not do it; a superstitious fear stopped +him; it was, as we all know, so very unlucky to break a +looking-glass by accident, but to break it of his own free will must +be far worse. + +He now kept his eyes riveted upon the tiny mirror, and then he saw +Vranic's face slightly fade and then vanish away; then the glass for +a few seconds grew dim as if a damp breath had passed upon it; then +the dimness disappeared little by little, the glass again grew clear +and reflected his own pale face, with his eyes wildly opened, +glistening with a wild, feverish look. Now, he was not mistaken; +Vranic was not to see another year! + +Uros had often heard it said that, if a young unmarried man looks by +chance in a looking-glass at the stroke of twelve, just when the old +year is dying out, he will perhaps see, either the woman he is to +marry in the course of the year, Death, or a man of his acquaintance +doomed to die within the year. He had never tried it, because it is a +thing that has to be done by chance, and even then the mirror does +not always foretell the future. Now, the thing happened so naturally, +in such an unforeseen, unpremeditated way, that there was no +possibility of a doubt. Vranic, then, was doomed to die. + +A week before, his death had been predicted the moment when he +stumbled and slipped over the stump of the yule-log--aye, it was his +own log--now again his enemy's death was foretold to him. + +As he stood there with his glass in his hand, a thought struck him, +and in answer to this, he lifted his eyes upwards and begged his +patron saint to keep his hands clean, and not to make him the +instrument of his enemy's death. + +"He is a villain," muttered he to himself, "and he fully deserves a +thousand deaths; but let him not die by my hand. If he dies of a +violent death, let me not be his executioner." + +Uros stood there for some time as if bewildered and very much like a +man who had seen a ghost, afraid to look round lest he should see +Vranic's face gloating upon him; then shuddering, he ran upstairs to +tell his adoptive brother all that had happened, and the strange +vision he had seen. + +When Uros went up on deck, he found that the wind had greatly +increased, and that from a cap-full, as it had been in the beginning, +it had grown into a hurricane. The sky was even darker than before; +the waves, swollen into huge breakers, dashed against the prow of the +ship, making her stagger and reel as if she had been stunned by those +mighty blows. + +The captain had now taken command of the ship, for all that part of +the Adriatic up to the Quarnero, with its archipelago of islands, its +numerous straits, its friths and rock-bound inlets, where the +mountains of the mainland--sloping down to the water's edge--end in +long ledges and chasms all interspersed with sharp ridges, rocks and +sunken reefs, through which the ships have often to wind carefully in +and out, is like a perilous maze. The navigation of these parts, +difficult enough in the day-time by fair weather, is more than +dangerous on a dark and stormy night. + +The ship, according to all calculation, had passed the Punta della +Planca, and was not very far from the port of Sebenico. It was +useless to try and take shelter there, for the town is most difficult +of access, especially during contrary winds. + +All that night the whole crew were on deck obeying the captain's +orders, for it was as much as they could do to manage the ship, at +war with all the elements; besides, as she rode forecastle in, she +had shipped several seas, so that, deeply-laden as she was, she +wallowed heavily about, and looked every moment as if she were ready +to founder. + +The storm had now risen to the highest pitch, and the captain, who, +as it has been said, was an elderly man, as well as an experienced +sailor, acknowledged that he scarcely remembered a more fearful gale +in the whole of his lifetime. All waited eagerly for the first +streaks of dawn; for a tempest, though frightful in broad daylight, +is always more appalling in the dead of the night. They waited a long +time, for it seemed as if darkness had set for ever over this world. + +At last a faint grey, glimmering light appeared in the east; then, by +degrees, towards daybreak, the waters overhead, and the waters +underneath, had a gloomy, greyish hue. Light spread itself far and +wide, but the storm did not abate. + +Milenko, with his spy-glass in his hand, was searching through the +veil of mist that surrounded the ship, for some island in the offing, +when, all at once, he thought he could perceive a dark speck not very +far off. This object, apparently cradled by the waters, was so dimly +seen that he could not even guess what it was; but after keeping his +eyes steadily upon it, he saw, or rather, he thought he saw, the hull +or wreck of a ship, or a buoy. No, surely it could not be a buoy +floating there in the midst of the waters. Was it not, perhaps, some +foam-covered rock against which the waves were dashing? His eyes were +rooted upon it for some time, and then he was certain that it was not +a rock, for it moved, nay, it seemed to float about. He pondered for +a while. Could it not be, he thought, the head of one of those huge +sea-snakes, upon which ships, having sometimes cast their anchors, +are dragged down into the fathomless abysses of the deep, there to +become the prey of this horrible monster? It was really too far off +for him to understand what it was. + +He waited for some time, then he strained his eyes, and he saw that +it could be nothing but a boat. He called Uros to him, but his +friend's sight being less keen than his own, he could make nothing of +it. The captain, having come to them, could not distinguish the +floating object at all. As they steered onwards, they came nearer to +it, and then they found out that it was indeed the hull of a caique +or galley-boat, which, having lost its masts and rudder, was tossed +about at the mercy of the breakers, that always seemed ready to +swallow it up. The crew on board were making signs of distress, but +it was a rather difficult task to lend a helping hand to that crazy +ship. It was impossible, with that heavy sea, for the brig to go +alongside of her, or to lie near enough for her crew to manage to get +on board. Nay, it was very dangerous for the brig to attempt going +anywhere near the caique, for the consequences might have been +disastrous if the wreck were thrown against her, as the stronger one +of the two would thus have dashed the weaker vessel to pieces. + +In this predicament Milenko volunteered to go in a little boat, if +any two men would go with him. At first all refused, but when Uros +said that he was ready to share his friend's fate, another sailor +came forth to lend a helping hand in rescuing those lives in fearful +jeopardy. + +The _pobratim_ having skilfully managed to get near enough to the +caique, so as to be understood, they called out to the captain to +throw them a rope overboard. This was done, but the hawser, without a +buoy, could hardly be got at; it was, therefore, pulled back, a +broken spar was tied at its end, and then it was again cast +overboard. + +After a full half-hour's hard work, Milenko and his mates managed to +get to the floating hawser and to haul it up; then they rowed lustily +back to the ship with it. The caique was then tugged close to the +brig's stern, which steered towards the land as well as she could. + +The poor bark, shorn of her masts, was in a wretched state, and one +of her men having gone down in the hold to see how much water there +was in her, found that she had sprung a leak and that she was filling +fast, notwithstanding all the exertions of the men at the pump. + +Though the storm had somewhat abated, still the caique was now +sinking, so that it was beyond all possibility to reach the shore in +time to save her. The two friends again got into the boat, and went +once more beside the wreck. This time they managed to get near enough +to save the crew and the few passengers they had. When all were on +board, then this little boat, heavily laden with human lives, was +rowed back to the brig. After this, the rope which bound the caique +was cut off, and she was left to drift away at the mercy of the +waves, and, little by little, sink out of sight. + +The first person that Milenko had got into the little boat, and who +he now helped on board the brig, was a young girl of about sixteen, +but who, like the women of her country, looked rather older than she +was. After her came her father and her mother, who were passengers on +board of the caique; they had come from Scio, and were bound for +Nona, a small town near Zara. The young girl had, throughout the +storm, shown an extraordinary courage; nay, she had been a helpmate +rather than an encumbrance. But when she saw herself safe on board +the _Spera in Dio_ (Hope in God)--for this was the brig's name--then +her strength failed her all at once, and she sank into a deep swoon. +Milenko, who had helped her on board, and who was standing by her, +caught her up in his arms, carried her downstairs and laid her upon +his bed. + +Milenko had hitherto never cared for any woman; but now, as he +carried this lifeless body, and he saw this pale, wan, childlike face +leaning on his shoulder, he felt a strange unknown flutter somewhere +about his heart. Then the sense of his own manhood came over him; he +knew himself strong, and he was glad to be able to shelter this frail +being within his brawny arms. + +Having rescued this girl from the jaws of death, she seemed to be his +own, and his bosom heaved with a feeling quite new to him. He would +have liked to have gone through life with this weak creature clinging +to him for strength, just as a mother would fain have her babe ever +nestling on her bosom. Now, having to relinquish her, he was glad to +lay her upon his own bed, for thus she still seemed to belong to him. + +Her mother was at once by her side, her father and the captain soon +followed, and all the care their rough hospitality could afford was +lavished upon her. As the fainting-fit had been brought on through +long fasting, as well as by a strain of the nerves, a spoonful of the +captain's rare cognac had the desired effect of recalling her to +life. + +Coming to herself, she was astonished at seeing so many sunburnt, +weather-beaten, unknown faces around her; she looked at them all, +from one to the other, but Milenko's deep blue eyes, wistfully +gloating upon her own, attracted her attention. She had seen him in +the boat when he came to their rescue, he had helped her on board; +and now, after that fainting-fit, which seemed to have stopped the +march of time for a while, she fancied she had known him long ago. +She looked first at him, then at her mother; then again at him. After +this, feeling as if she was quite safe as long as her mother and that +unknown young man--who still was no stranger--stood watching over +her, her heavy eyelids drooped, and she fell into a light slumber. + +The captain having persuaded the mother to take some rest, all went +to attend to their duties; still, Milenko softly crept down every now +and then to see if the women wanted anything, and to have a sly look +at the young girl sleeping in his bed. As he stood there gazing upon +her, he was conscious that his senses had grown more mellow--that +life henceforth had an aim. This was the dawn of real love in a +strong man's breast. Whilst he was looking at her, the young girl +woke from her slumbers; she opened her eyes, and her glances fell +again upon him. + +"Where am I?" she said, half-frightened. Then, recognising the young +man, she added: "Yes, I know, you saved my life when I was drowning." + +The mother, hearing her daughter speak, yawned, stretched out her +arms and woke. + +The storm had now abated. The dark clouds were quickly flitting, and +the sun, which had risen upon that first day of the year, was now +shining in all its splendour on the broad expanse of the blue waters +and upon the huge crested waves; and the sight was as exhilarating as +it was delightful. + +The poor wrecked family having gathered together on deck, breakfast +was got ready, and all sat down to the frugal meal which the ship's +provisions afforded. + +When the breakfast was over, the father of the young girl--who had +been questioned several times as to the place from where he was +coming, to the port whither he was bound, his occupation, and so +forth--related to his hosts the story of his adventures, which can be +abridged as follows: + +"My name is Giulianic. Our family, though Slav and Orthodox, is said +to have been of Italian origin, and that the name, years ago, was +Giuliani. Still, I cannot swear as to the truth of this assertion. My +father in his first youth had gone to the Levant, and had settled at +Chios. He was a coppersmith; and, as far as I can remember, he was +very prosperous. He had a large and well-furnished shop, and employed +a good many workmen. + +"I was the eldest of the family; after me there came a girl, who, +happily for herself, died when she was yet quite a baby, and before +trouble befel us; for had she been spared, she doubtless would have +ended her life in some harem, if not in a worse way, losing thus both +soul and body. After her came two boys; so that between myself and +my youngest brother there was a difference of about ten years, if not +more. I was, therefore, the only child of our family who knew the +blessing of a happy boyhood, for my early years, spent either in my +father's shop or in our country-house, were passed in bliss; but +alas! that time is so far off that its remembrance is only like a +dream. + +"When I was about ten or twelve years--I cannot say exactly how old I +was, as all the registers have been destroyed--a terrible revolution +took place. It was, I remember, an awful time, when Christian blood +ran in streams through the streets of towns and villages, when houses +were burnt down, and the whole island remained a mass of smouldering +ruins. + +"My father was, if I am not mistaken, the first victim of that bloody +fray; like all men of pluck, and indeed like most men of no pluck at +all, he was butchered by the Turks. My mother----" + +There was a pause. A tear glistened in the corner of the old man's +eye, then it rolled down his wrinkled cheek and disappeared in the +long, bristling white moustache; his voice faltered. Though more than +half a century had passed since that dreadful day, still he could +hardly speak about it. After a moment he added, drily: + +"My mother fell into the hands of those dogs. I was separated from my +brothers. The youngest, as I was told, was taken by those fiends. He +was a bright, handsome boy; they made a Turk of him. My other brother +disappeared; for days I sought him everywhere, but I could not find +him. + +"Before I go on with the story of my life, I must tell you that all +the men in the Giulianic family have, since immemorial times, a +bright red stain, like a small drop of blood, on the nape of the +neck, just about where the collar-bone is bound to the skull. Its +peculiarity is that its colour increases and decreases with the lunar +phases. Besides this, my father in those troubled times, foreseeing +that the day might come when we should be snatched from him, caused a +little Greek Cross to be tattooed upon us." + +Here, suiting the action to the words, he bared his left breast and +showed us the holy sign just near the place where the heart is seen +to throb. + +"Thus, to resume the story of my life, when I was hardly twelve I +found myself an orphan, alone and penniless. The night of that +dreadful day I went to cry by the smouldering ruins of our house, +looking if I could at least find the mangled remains of that father +whom I loved so dearly. When morning came, I knew that I was not only +turned adrift upon this wide world, but that I had to flee, whither I +knew not. I lurked about in all kinds of hiding-places, and when I +crawled out I always seemed to hear the steps and the voices of those +bloodthirsty murderers. The falling leaf, the sudden flight of a +locust, the chirrup of an insect filled me with terror, and indeed +more than once, hidden within a bush or crouching behind a stone, I +saw the tall _zeibeks_, those fierce-looking mountaineers, the +scourge of the country far around, in search of prey. For days I +managed to live, I really do not know how, but principally on +oranges, I think. One day, being on the strand and seeing a vessel +riding at anchor at some distance, I swam up to it. The captain, who +was a Dalmatian, took pity on me, and brought me to Zara, whither his +ship was bound. From that time I managed to drag on through life; +still, I should not have been unhappy had I been able to forget. + +"After several years of hard struggle, I at last went to Mostar; +there fate, tired of persecuting me, began to be more favourable. I +was prosperous in all my undertakings; I married; then my +restlessness began to wear away, I thought I had settled down for +life. Had I only been able to find out something about my lost +brothers, I do not think anything more would have been wanting to my +happiness. + +"Years passed, aye, a good many years since those terrible days which +had blighted my childhood, for my eldest child, who died soon +afterwards, was then about the age I had been when I was bereft of +kith and kin. It happened that one day--stop, it was on Easter +Monday--I was having a picnic with some friends at a farm belonging +to my wife's father. We were sauntering in the fields, enjoying the +beauty of the country, which at that time was in all its bloom, when +looking down from a height upon the road beneath, we saw a cloud of +dust. We stopped to look, and we perceived at a few yards from us, +two or three panting men evidently running for their lives. + +"They were all armed, not only with daggers and pistols, but also +with long muskets. At twenty paces behind them came half-a-dozen +_zaptiehs_, or guards. + +"The highwaymen, for such they seemed to us, evidently tired out, +were losing ground at every step, and the Turks were about to +overtake them. All at once the robbers reached a corner of the road, +just under the hill on which we were standing; there the foremost man +amongst them stopped, and after bidding the others to be off, he put +his musket to his shoulder. When the _zaptiehs_ came nearer, he +called to them to turn back if they cared for their lives. There was +a moment of indecision amongst the guards; each one looked upon his +neighbour, wondering what he would do, when the one who seemed to be +their officer took out his pistol and pointed it at the highwayman, +calling to him to give up. For all reply, the robber took a +deliberate aim at the Turk. Both men fired at once. The guards, +astonished, stood back for a trice. The Turk fell, the highwayman +remained unhurt; thereupon he laid by his gun and took out a +revolver. The guards came up and fired off their weapons; the robber +fell, apparently shot through by many balls. + +"The _zaptiehs_ stopped for a moment to look at their companion; they +undid his clothes. Life was already extinct; the highwayman's bullet +had struck him above the left breast, and, taking a downward course, +it had pierced the heart. Death must have been instantaneous. By the +signs of grief given to him, the man must have been admired and +beloved by his companions; but their sorrow seemed all at once to +melt into hatred and a thirst for revenge, so that they all rose and +ran after the two fugitives, evidently hoping to overtake them. + +"I can hardly describe the feelings that arose in my breast at that +sight; it was the first time in my life that I had beheld the corpse +of a Turk, not only without any feeling of exultation, but even with +a sense of deep pity. + +"'He was a brave man,' said I to my friends; 'therefore he must have +been a good man.' + +"As soon as the _zaptiehs_ were out of sight, we ran down to see the +two men, and ascertain if life were quite extinct in them. + +"I went up to the Turkish guard. I lifted up his lifeless head, and, +as I did so, my heart was filled with love and sorrow. He was a +stalwart, handsome man, in the flower of his years. + +"'Is he quite dead?' I asked myself; 'is he not, perhaps, only +wounded?' + +"I opened his vest to look at the wound, and as I laid his chest +bare, there, to my astonishment, grief and dismay, below the left +breast, pricked in tiny blue dots, was the sign of the holy Cross +--the Greek Cross, like the one which had been tattooed on my own +flesh. + +"I felt faint as I beheld it; my eyes grew dim, my hands fell +lifeless. Was this man one of my long-lost brothers? + +"My strength returned; with feverish hands I sought the mark on the +nape of the neck. It was full-moon; therefore the stain was not only +visible, but as red as the blood which flowed from his wounds. + +"A feeling of faintness came over me again; I knew that I was deadly +pale. I uttered a cry as I pressed the lifeless head to my heart. + +"This man, no doubt, was my youngest brother, whom those hell-hounds +had snatched away from our mother's breast upon that dreadful day, +and--cursed be their race for ever--they had made a Turkish guard of +him. + +"His head was lying upon my lap; I bowed upon it and covered it with +kisses. + +"My wife and all my friends, seeing me act in such a strange way, +unable to understand my overwhelming anguish, thought that I had been +all at once struck with madness. + +"'What is the matter?' said my wife, looking at me with awe-struck +eyes. + +"I could hardly speak. All I could do was to point with my finger at +the sign of the Cross on the _zaptieh_'s breast. + +"'Can it be possible? Is it your brother?' + +"I mournfully nodded assent. Then, after a few moments, I added that +I had also found the family sign on the nape of this man's neck. + +"In the meantime help was given to the highwayman, who, +notwithstanding his wounds, was not quite dead, though he had fallen +into a death-like swoon. My father-in-law was vainly endeavouring to +bring him back to life, whilst I was lavishing my sorrow and caresses +upon the man I had so longed to see. + +"'Let us take him away from here,' said I, trying to lift him up; 'he +shall not be touched by those dogs. Christian burial is to be given +him; he must lie in consecrated ground.' + +"'But,' said my father-in-law---- + +"'There are no "buts." They have had his body in his lifetime; they +shall not have it after his death. Besides, his soul will have no +rest, thinking that its earthly shell lies festering unhallowed. No; +even if I am to lose my head, they shall not put a finger upon him.' + +"Instead of giving me an answer, my father-in-law uttered a kind of +stifled cry of astonishment. My wife, who was by his side, shrieked +out, looked wildly at me, and then lifted both her hands to her head, +with horror and amazement. + +"What had happened? + +"I looked round. The highwayman, the man who had shot my brother +through the heart, was coming back to life; he was panting for +breath. I looked at him. He opened his eyes. A shudder came over me. +There was a strange likeness between the murderer and the murdered +man. Perhaps it was because the one was dying and the other was dead. + +"My father-in-law, my wife and my friends looked at the robber, then +at me; awe, dread, sorrow was seen in all their eyes. + +"I looked again at the highwayman. He had moved a little; his +_jacerma_ was loosened, his shirt was torn open, his breast was all +bare. + +"Horror! There, under the left breast, I saw the sign of the Greek +Cross. + +"For a moment I remained stunned, hardly knowing whether I was in my +senses or if I was mad. + +"A feeling of overpowering fear came upon me; it seemed as if I were +in the midst of a mighty whirlwind. For the first time in my life I +beheld the sign of the holy Cross with horror and dismay. + +"I lifted my hands up towards heaven in earnest supplication. + +"A religious man prays, perhaps, two or three times a day; still, +those are lip-prayers. Few men pray from the innermost depths of +their hearts more than ten times during their life, and that, indeed, +is much. At that moment my very soul seemed to be upheaved towards +heaven with the words that came from my mouth. I entreated the +All-wise Creator of heaven and earth that this _heyduke_ might be no +kith and kin to me, that his blood-stained hands might not be +polluted with a brother's murder. + +"During these few instants, my friends had gently lifted the dying +man from the ground, and then they had sought for the family sign on +the highwayman's neck. Like my brother's and mine, that stain was +there, of a blood-red hue. + +"I left the body where life was extinct to tend the one where a spark +of life was yet lingering. Slowly and carefully we had the bodies +transported to my father-in-law's house. + +"The Turkish guards on their pursuit of the robbers did not, on their +return, come back the same way. On the morrow a search was made for +their officer's body and for that of the highwayman, but, not finding +them, they came to the conclusion that they had been devoured by wild +beasts. + +"With great difficulty, and with much bribing (for, as you yourselves +know, even our own priests are fond of _backseesh_) my dead brother +was laid low in our churchyard, and Masses were said on his earthly +remains. The wounded man lingered on for some days, between life and +death, and during all that time I was always by his bedside. He was +delirious, and by his ravings I understood that he hated the Turks as +much as I did, for he was always fighting against them. We called a +skilful surgeon of the Austrian army, who, though he gave us but +little hope, managed to snatch him from the jaws of death. + +"His convalescence was very slow, but health kept creeping back. When +he was quite out of danger I questioned him about his youth, his +early manhood, and the circumstances that urged him to take to the +daring life of a _klefte_. Thereupon he related all the vicissitudes +of his good and bad fortune, which I shall resume as follows: + +"'I was born at Chios; therefore, though I am of Slav origin and I am +called Giulianic, I am known throughout all Turkey as the Chiot. You +yourself must have heard of me. I remember but little of my family. +My life begins with a terrible date--that of the massacre of the +Christians in my native island. Upon that day I lost my father, my +mother and two of my brothers. Left alone, I was saved by a rich +Greek landowner. He had friends amongst the Turks, and was, +therefore, spared when almost all our fellow-countrymen were +butchered. This gentleman, who had several girls and no boy, treated +me like his own son; and when I reached early manhood, I was engaged +to my adopted father's eldest daughter. Those were the happiest days +of my life, and I should have been far happier still, had my soul not +been parched by an almost irresistible desire for vengeance. + +"'The day of my wedding had already been fixed, when an imprudent +person happened to point out to me the man who had done us a grievous +wrong--the man who had torn our baby brother from my mother's breast, +the man whom I hated even more and worse than those who had killed my +father. Well, as you can well understand, I slew that man. Put +yourself in my place, and tell me if you would not have done the +same? + +"'After that deed it was useless to think of marrying. I fled from +Chios; I went to Smyrna. There I put myself at the head of a gang of +robbers. + +"'My life from that day was that of many _heydukes_; that is to say, +we got by sheer strength what most people get by craft--our daily +bread and very few of the superfluities of life. One thing I can say: +it is that neither I nor any of my men ever spilt a single drop of +Christian blood. It is true that I was the bane of the Turks, and I +never spared them any more than they had spared us. I was beloved by +the poor, with whom I often shared my bread; treated with +consideration by the rich, who preferred having me as their friend +rather than as their enemy; regularly absolved by the Church, whose +feasts and fasts I always kept. I was only dreaded by the Turks, who +set a very great price upon my head. Thus I got to be in some years a +rich and powerful man. I left Asia Minor and passed into Europe, and +then, feeling that I was growing old, I was about to retire from my +trade, when--when you saved my life.' + +"'And now,' I asked him, 'what are you going to do?' + +"'What! That, indeed, is more than I know.' + +"He remained musing for some time, and then he added: + +"'When a man is without any ties, when he has drunk deep the free +mountain air, when the woods have been his dwelling-place and the +starry heaven his roof, when he has lived the lawless life of a +_heyduke_, can he think of cooping himself up within the narrow walls +of a house and live the life of other men?' + +"He stopped for a while, as if lost in his thoughts, and then he +added: + +"'The girl I loved is married; my brothers whom I hoped to meet +again, and for whom I had bought the ground our family once owned at +Chios, are for ever lost to me--doubtless, they perished upon that +dreadful day--therefore, why should I live to drag on a life which +henceforth will be wearisome to me?' + +"'Well, then, what will you do?' + +"'There is, perhaps, more work at Chios for me; I might find out the +men who murdered my father----' + +"'No, no; there is enough of blood upon your hands.' + +"'I thought you were a Slav; as such you must know that the men of +our nation never forgive.' + +"'Listen; if you should happen to meet one of your brothers, if, like +you, he were well off, would you not look upon his home as your own, +his children--whom you might love without knowing--as your children?' + +"'I should love and cherish him, indeed; I should give him the lands +I bought for him at Chios. But, alas! what is the use of speaking +about such a thing? It is only a dream, so listen: no man, hitherto, +has loved me for my own sake, so as to risk his own life for me, as +you have done, though, indeed, I have met with great kindness during +the whole of my lifetime, and have had a great many friends. Well, +then, will you be my brother?' + +"'If I consented, would you remain with me, share my heart and my +home?' + +"'For ever?' + +"'For our whole life.' + +"'No, do not ask me that.' + +"'But should you find your brother after these many years, how would +you know him?' + +"'We have each a Cross tattooed on our left breast, as you, perhaps, +have seen----' + +"'Besides this, a vanishing sign on the nape of the neck,' said I, +interrupting him. + +"'How do you know? Have you ever met?--or perhaps you----' + +"For all answer I opened my vest and showed him the sign of the Greek +Cross. His delight upon knowing me to be his brother knew no bounds. +He threw his arms round my neck, kissed me, and, for the first time +in his life, he cried like a child. + +"Time passed. He recovered his strength, but with it his +restlessness, and his craving for revenge. We soon removed from +Mostar to Ragusa, on account of his safety, and then I hoped that the +change of scenery would quiet him. Alas! this larger town was but a +more spacious prison. From Ragusa we went to Zara, and from there to +Nona, for Ragusa itself was too near Turkey. The change quieted him +for a short time; but his roving disposition soon returned, and then +he talked of going to Chios. One day, seeing that he was about to put +his words into execution, and feeling that I could not keep him with +me any longer, I told him who the Turkish _zaptieh_, against whom he +had fired, really was, and what blood was the last he had spilt. + +"The blow was a terrible one; for days he seemed to be stunned by it. +Little by little, however, it changed the current of his thoughts. He +shortly afterwards gave up to the Church his ill-gotten wealth, +except the Chios estate, of which he had made me a gift. Then he +became a _caloyer_, or Greek monk, and once a year he went on a +pilgrimage to Mostar, to pray upon my brother's tomb. From sinner he +turned saint; but he pined like a wild bird in a cage. He lingered +for some time and then he died at Mostar, where he was buried by the +side of the _zaptieh_ whom he had killed. + +"We had now been to Chios to look after our vineyards and our orange +groves; but I must say that this island, where I was born, is no home +for me. I have lived away from it the whole of my lifetime, and the +remembrances which it brings back to my mind are anything but +pleasant. We were on our way to Nona, and had almost reached the goal +of our voyage when that dreadful storm overtook us, and had it not +been for your kindness and bravery we should all have been lost." + +Evening had set in when Giulianic finished the story of his life, +just when the walls of Zara were in sight; but as it was too late to +land, we spent New Year's night on board the _Spera in Dio_. + + + + +CHAPTER V + +DUCK SHOOTING AT NONA + + +The weather was clear and bright on the second day of the year. The +sea was not only calm, but of the most beautiful turquoise blue, not +the slightest cloud was to be seen in the sky, and the sun's rays +were as sparkling and as warm as if it had been a glowing day in the +latter part of April instead of early January. Nature looked +refreshed and coquettishly radiant; her beauty was enhanced by the +storm of the day before. + +The red-tiled roofs of the higher houses, such as convents and public +buildings, the domes and spires of churches, peeped slily over the +town walls of Zara, and the brig, the _Spera in Dio_, which that +morning lay at anchor by the wharf opposite the principal gate, the +Porta San Grisogono, or Porta del Mare, as it is also called. + +On the pier, along the wharf, on the strand, and within the narrow +street, a motley crowd is to be seen; everyone is gaily decked out in +festive apparel; this sight is one that would have rejoiced a +painter, for few towns present such a variety of dresses as Zara. +There were fair _Morlacchi_ in white woollen clothes, their trousers +fitting them like tights, with their reddish hair plaited into a +little pig-tail; tall and swarthy, long-moustachioed _pandours_, +handsome warlike men, that any stranger might mistake for Turks, +their coats laced and waistcoats covered with silver buttons, bugles +and large coins, glittering in the sunshine, that make them look, at +a distance, as if dressed in armour; then there were peasants, whose +cottages are built on the neighbouring reefs, clad in tight blue +trousers, trimmed in red, red waistcoats laced in yellow, and brown +jackets embroidered in various colours; country girls in green +dresses, red stockings and yellow shoes. These men and women all wear +shirts and chemises prettily stitched and worked in all possible +colours of silks and cottons. Some of these embroideries of flowers +and arabesques are of the richest dyes, and the cherry-red is mingled +with ultramarine blue and leek-green; they are sometimes interwoven +with shells or tinsel; their stockings and leggings are bits of +gorgeous tapestry, whilst the women's aprons are like Eastern +carpets. As for the jewellery, it varies from rows of arangoes to +massive gold beads studded with pearls and other precious stones, +similar to those which the Murano manufactories have artistically +imitated. + +Amongst these peasants are to be seen tall, stately white friars, +portly grey friars, and stout and snuffy-brown friars; priests in +rusty black, priests in fine broadcloth, with violet stockings and +shoes with silver buckles, priests of high and priests of low degree. +Then Austrian officers in white jackets, Croat soldiers in tight +trousers, Hungarians in laced tunics. Lastly, a few civilians, who +are very much out of place in their ungainly, antiquated clothes. + +On the morrow, it was found that the _Spera in Dio_ had been much +damaged by the late storm, and that it was impossible for her to sail +without being thoroughly repaired. The little ship-yard of Zara was +too busy just then to undertake the work, so Giulianic persuaded the +captain to proceed onwards as far as Nona, where he could get +shipwrights to work for him. Therefore, two days after their arrival +at Zara, they set sail for Nona, together with their shipwrecked +guests. The captain and his two mates had now become intimate friends +with Giulianic and his family, who did their utmost to try and +entertain the young men. + +Nona, however, offers but few amusements, nay, hardly any, excepting +hunting; still, Giulianic being a great sportsman, a shooting party +was arranged on the brackish lake of Nona, which at that time of the +year abounds in coots, wild ducks, and other migratory birds. + +Milenko, though fond of this sport, vainly tried to stay on board, +thinking that an hour in Ivanika Giulianic's company was better than +a whole day's shooting on the lake; but all the paltry excuses he +gave for staying behind were speedily overcome, so he had to yield to +Uros and the captain, and go with them. + +The lake of Nona, which is just outside the old battlemented walls of +the town, is about a mile in length: its waters are always rather +salty, on account of two canals which at high tide communicate with +the sea. + +The little party, composed of the captain, his two mates, Giulianic +and some other friends of his, started for the lake about an hour +before sunrise; and towards dawn they all got into the canoes that +were there waiting for them, as every hunter had a little boat and an +oarsman at his disposal. + +They left the shores on different sides, and noiselessly glided +towards the place where the coots had gathered for the night, +surrounding them on every side, so as to cut away from them every +means of escape. + +When they had reached the goal, the signal for beginning the attack +was given, a musket being fired from off the shore. That loud noise, +midst the stillness of early dawn, startled the poor birds from their +peaceful slumbers; they at once foolishly rise, fly and flutter about +in all directions, but without soaring to any great height. The +slaughter now begins. Soon the birds get over their first fright, and +the hunters not to scare them away, leave them a few moments' +respite; the coots then seem loath to abandon such a rich pasture and +turn back to their sedges. Therefore they see the boats appear on +every side and hedge them within a narrow circle. They are once more +on the wing, ready to fly away. Greed again prevails over fear; the +birds gather together, but do not make their escape. Pressed closer +by the hunters they at last rise all in a flock. It is too late; +death reaches them on every side. All at once, amidst the smoke and +the noise, they make a bold attempt to cross the enemy's line, but +only do so in the greatest confusion, flying hither and thither, +helter-skelter, the one butting against the other, and thus they all +kept falling a prey to the keen-eyed, quick-handed sportsmen. + +At first the shores of the lake are but dimly seen through the thick +veil of mist arising from the smooth surface of the rippleless +waters, as from a huge brewing-pan, and everything is of a cold +greyish hue, fleecy on the shore. But now the sun has appeared like a +burnished disc of copper amidst a golden halo; soon all the mist +vanishes beneath his warm rays. The mellow morning light falls upon +the numberless feathered carcasses that dye the waters of the +stagnant mere. + +The pulse of every sportsman flutters with excitement; despair has +given courage to the birds, which rise much higher than before, and +are making heroic efforts to break through the lines. Soon the flurry +that had prevailed amongst the birds, falls to the lot of the +sportsmen; they give orders and counter orders to the oarsmen, and +the circle of boats has become an entangled maze. + +The lake now resounds, not so much with firing as with shouts of +merriment and peals of laughter, sometimes because one of the boats +has butted against the other, and one of the hunters has lost his +balance and got a ducking. The morning being now far advanced, the +sportsmen gather together for breakfast, leaving time to the birds to +get over their bewildered state and settle quietly again in a flock +round about their resting-place. + +In an hour's time the shooting begins again, but the head is not so +light, the sight so keen, nor the hand so quick as before breakfast; +nay, it happened at times that the captain saw two coots instead of +one, and fired just between the two; besides, the birds were also in +a more disbanded state, so that the quantity of game killed was not +what it had been in the early part of the morning. Mirth, however, +did not flag; the mist, moreover, having quite vanished, the beauty +of the green shores was seen in all its splendour. + +Many of the youthful inhabitants of Nona had come to see the sport, +picking up some wounded bird bleeding to death in the fields; whilst +many a countryman passing thereby, wearily trudging towards his home, +his long-barrelled gun slung across his shoulder, shot down more than +one stray coot that had taken refuge in a neighbouring field, hoping +thereby to have escaped from the general slaughter. + +At last, late in the afternoon, our sportsmen, heavily laden, +followed Giulianic to his house, to finish there the day which they +had so well begun. + +Moreover, the men having risen so very early and being tired out, +fell to dozing. Uros had gone to the ship to see how the repairs were +getting on, and Milenko was thus left alone with Ivanika, or +Ivanitza, as she was usually called. This was the opportunity he had +eagerly wished for, to confess his love to her; nay, for two days he +had rehearsed this scene over and over in his mind, and he had not +only thought of all he would say to her, but even what she would +answer. + +Although he was said to be gifted with a vivid imagination, now that +he was alone with her he could hardly find a word to say. It was, +indeed, so much easier to woo in fancy than in reality. + +How happy he would have been, walking in the garden with this +beautiful girl, if he could only have got rid of his overpowering +shyness. How many things he could have told her if he had only known +how to begin; but every monosyllable he had uttered was said with +trepidation, and in a hoarse and husky tone. Still, with every +passing moment, he felt he was losing a precious opportunity he might +never have again. + +He did not know, however, that, if his lips were dumb, his eyes, +beaming with love, spoke a passionate speech that words themselves +were powerless to express. Nor was he aware that--though with +maidenly coyness she turned her head away--she still read in his +burning glances the love she longed to hear from his lips. + +After a few commonplace phrases they walked on in silence, and then +the same thoughts filled their hearts with almost unutterable +anguish. In a few days the brig would be repaired, the sails +unfurled, the anchor weighed; then the broad sea would separate them +for ever. + +The sun was just sinking beyond the waves, and the shivering waters +looked like translucent gold; a mass of soft, misty clouds was +glowing with saffron, orange and crimson hues, whilst the sky above +was of a warm, roseate flush. Little by little all the tints faded, +became duller, more delicate; the saffron changed into a pale-greyish +lemon green, the crimson softened into pink. The sun's last rays +having disappeared, the opaline clouds looked like wreaths of smoke +or pearly-grey mists. + +Milenko's heart felt all the changes that Nature underwent; his +glowing love, though not less intent, was more subdued, and though, +in his yearning, he longed to clasp this maiden in his arms, and to +tell her that his life would be sadder than dusk itself without her +love, still he felt too much and had not the courage to speak. +Sometimes in the fulness of the heart the mouth remains mute. + +Now the bell of a distant church began to ring slowly--the evening +song, the dirge of the dying day. Ivanitza crossed herself devoutly; +Milenko took off his cap, and likewise made the sign of the Cross. +Both of them stopped; both breathed a short prayer, and then resumed +their walk in silence. + +After a few steps he tried to master his emotion and utter that short +sentence: "Ivanitza, I love you." + +Then something seemed to grip his throat and choke him; it was not +possible for him to bring those words out. Besides, he thought they +would sound so unmeaning and vapid, so far from expressing the hunger +of his heart; so he said nothing. + +Meanwhile the bell kept doling out its chimes slowly, one by one, and +as he asked himself whether it were possible to live without this +girl, whom he now loved so dearly, the harmony of the bell chimed in +with his thoughts, and said to him: "Ay, nay; ay, nay." + +All at once, feeling that this girl must think him a fool if he kept +silent, that he must say something, no matter what it was, and +happening to see a lonely gull flying away towards the sea, he said, +in a faltering tone: + +"Ivanika, do you like coots?" + +It was the only thing that came into his mind. She looked up at him +with a roguish twinkle in her eyes. + +"Do you mean cooked coots or live coots?" + +Milenko looked for a while rather puzzled, as if bewildered by the +question. Then, taking the tips of the girl's fingers: "I was not +thinking of them, either alive or cooked." + +Ivanika quietly drew her hand away. + +"What were you thinking of, then?" she said. + +"May I tell you?" + +"Well, if you want any answer to your question," added she, laughing. + +"Please don't make fun of me. If you only knew----" + +"What?" + +He grasped her hand, and held it tight in his. + +"Well, how deeply I love you." + +He said this in a tragic tone, and heaved a sigh of relief when it +was out at last. + +The young girl tried to wrench away her hand, but he held it fast. +She turned her head aside, so that he could not see the +uncontrollable ray of happiness that gleamed within the depths of her +eyes. Her heart fluttered, a thrill of joy passed through her whole +frame; but she did her best to subdue her emotion, which might seem +bold and unmaidenly, so that she schooled herself to say demurely, +nay almost coldly: + +"How can you possibly love me, when you know so little of me?" + +"But must you know a person for ages before you love him, Ivanitza?" + +"No, I don't mean that; still----" + +"Though I have never been fond of any girl till now, and therefore +did not know what love was, still, the moment I saw you I felt as if +my heart had stopped beating. You may think it strange, but still it +is true. When I saw you with my spy-glass standing bravely on the +deck of your crazy boat, whilst the huge billows and breakers were +dashing against you, ever ready to wash you away, then my heart +seemed to take wings and fly towards you. How I suffered at that +moment. Every time your boat was about to sink, I gasped, feeling as +if I myself was drowning; but had the caique foundered, I should have +jumped in the waves and swum to your rescue." + +Ivanitza's heart throbbed with joy, pride, exultation at the thought +of having the love of such a brave man. + +"You see, I had hardly seen you, and still I should have risked my +life a thousand times to help you. It was for you, and you alone, +that I got into the boat to come to you, though the captain and Uros +at first thought it sheer madness; and if my friend and the other +sailor had not accompanied me--well, I should have come alone." + +"And got drowned?" + +"Life would not have been worth living without you." + +The young girl looked at him with admiring eyes, and nature, for a +moment, almost got the mastery over her shyness and the stern +claustral way in which, like all Levantine girls, she had been +brought up; for her impulse was to throw herself in his arms and +leave him to strain her against his manly chest. Besides, at that +moment she remembered what a delightful sensation she had had when, +awaking from her swoon, she had felt herself carried like a baby in +his strong arms. Still, she managed to master herself, and only said: + +"So, had it not been for you, we should all have been drowned." + +"Oh, I don't say that! Seeing your danger, at the last moment someone +else might, perhaps, have volunteered to come to your rescue. Uros +and the captain are both very brave; only the captain has a family of +his own, and Uros---" + +"What! is he married?" + +"Oh, no!" said Milenko, laughing; "he is not married, but----" + +"But what?" + +"Well, you see, he is in love; but please do not mention a word about +it to him or anyone else." + +"Why, is it a secret?" + +"Yes, it is a very great secret--that is to say, not a very great +secret either, but it is a matter never to be spoken of." + +"No? Why?" + +"I can't tell you; indeed, I can't." + +"How you tantalise me!" + +"I'll tell you, perhaps, some other time." + +"When?" + +"Well, perhaps, when----" + +"Go on." + +"When we are married." + +The young girl burst out laughing. It was a clear, silvery, +spontaneous, merry laugh; but still, for a moment, it jarred upon +Milenko's nerves. He looked rather downcast, for he was far from +thinking the matter to be a joke. + +"Why do you laugh?" said he, ruefully. + +"Because, probably, I shall never know your friend's secret." + +The poor fellow's brown complexion grew livid, the muscles of his +heart contracted with a spasm, he gasped for breath; the pang he felt +was so strong that he could hardly speak; still, he managed to +falter: + +"Why, are you, perhaps, already engaged to be married?" + +"I?" said she, with another laugh. "No." + +"Nor in love with anyone?" + +"No." + +"Then, don't you think----" + +He stopped again. + +"Think what?" + +"Well, that you might love me a little some day?" + +She gave him no answer. + +"What, you don't think you could?" he asked, anxiously. + +"But I didn't say that I couldn't, only----" + +"Only what?" + +"A girl cannot always choose for herself." + +"Why not?" + +"Suppose my father chooses someone else for me?" + +"But surely he will not." + +"Suppose he has already promised me----" + +"Why go and suppose such dreadful things? Besides, he ought to +remember that I risked my life to save yours; that----" + +Milenko stopped for a moment, and then he added: + +"Well, I don't like boasting; still, if it had not been for me--well, +I suppose your caique would have foundered. No, tell me that you love +me, or at least that you might get to love me. Let me ask your +father----" + +"No, no; not yet." + +"Why not?" + +"Well, we hardly know each other. Who knows, perhaps, the next port +you go to----" + +Here she heaved a deep sigh. + +"Well, what?" asked the youth, ingenuously. + +"You might see some girl that you might like better than myself, and +then you will regret that you have engaged yourself to a girl whom +you think you are obliged to marry." + +"How can you think me so fickle?" + +"You are so young." + +"So is Uros young, and still----" + +"Still?" she asked, smilingly, with an inquisitive look. + +"He is in love." + +"With?" + +"A woman," said Milenko, gloomily. + +"Of course." + +"Well, I'll tell you, only please don't mention it--with a married +woman. Are you not sorry for him?" + +"No, not at all; a young man ought not to fall in love with a married +woman--it's a sin, a crime." + +"That's what I told him myself." + +After a short pause, Milenko, having now got over his shyness: + +"Well, Ivanitza, tell me, will you not give me a little hope; will +you not try to love me just a little?" + +"Would you be satisfied with only just a little?" + +"No." + +"Well, then--I am afraid----" + +"What?" + +"I shall have to love you a good deal." + +He caught hold of her reluctant hand and covered it with kisses. + +"If you think that your father might object to me because I am a +seaman, tell him that my father is well off, and that I am his only +son. Both Uros and I have gone to sea by choice, and to see a little +of the world; still, we are not to be sailors all our lives." + +Afterwards he began to ask her whether she would not like to come and +sail with him in summer, when he would be master of the brig; then +again he ended by begging her to allow him to speak to her father. + +"No, not now. It is better for you to go away and see if you do not +forget me. Besides, neither your father nor your mother know anything +about me, and it may happen that they have other views about you." + +"Their only aim is my happiness." + +"Still, they might think that you were wheedled----" + +"How could they think so ill of you?" + +"You forget that they do not know me. Anyhow, it is more dutiful that +you should speak to them before you speak to my father." + +"Well, perhaps you are right. Only, you see, I love you so; I should +be so frightened to lose you." + +"It is not likely that anybody will think of me for some years yet." + +"Well, then, promise me not to marry anyone else. In a year's time, +then, I shall come and speak to your father. Will you promise?" + +"I promise." + +"Will you give me a pledge?" + +She gave him her hand, but he gently pulled her towards him, clasped +her in his arms, and kissed her rosy lips. Then they both went into +the house. + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +THE BULLIN-MOST + + +"I suppose you have been to Knin and Dernis?" said the captain by +chance after dinner to his host, speaking about the trade with the +interior, whilst puffing away at the long stem of his cherry-wood +pipe. + +"Of course. Haven't you?" + +"Oh, no! we sailors are always acquainted with the coasts of +countries, nothing more. What kind of a place is this Knin?" + +"Much of a muchness, like other places. The country, however, is fine +and picturesque. There is, besides, the Bullin-Most." + +"What is that?" + +"The name of a bridge at the entrance of the town, and almost at the +foot of the fortress which tops the crags. It is called the +Bullin-Most, or the Bridge of the Turkish Woman. Formerly it used to +be called the Bridge of the Two Torrents." + +"Well, and what is there remarkable about it?" + +"Don't you know the tale of 'Hussein and Ayesha'?" + +"No." + +"It is the subject of one of Kacic's finest poems. Would you like to +hear it?" + +"Of course." + +"Well, then, about two hundred years ago, more or less, Kuna Hassan +was the governor of Knin and of the neighbouring province. The _Aga_ +was said to be a man of great wisdom and courage; but his many +qualities were marred by his severity towards the Christians, whom he +hated, and subjected to all kinds of vexations and cruel treatment. + +"This _Aga_ had a numerous family, being blessed with many children +by his several wives; but Ayesha, the only daughter of his favourite +wife, was the child in whom he had put all the fondness of his heart. +She was, it is true, a girl of an extraordinary beauty. Her skin, +they say, was as white as the snowy peaks of the Dinara, the mountain +over against the fort of Knin; her eyes were black, but they sparkled +softly, like the star which shines at twilight; her curly hair had +the colour of the harvest moon's mellow light. + +"All the _vati_ of her father's palace were in love with her, only +hearing her beauty extolled by the eunuchs of the harem, and seeing +her glorious eyes sparkle through her veils, or the tips of her +tapering fingers, as she held her _feredge_. + +"The principal lords of Kuna Hassan Aga's Court were, first, Ibrahim +Velagic, the _Dizdar_ of Stermizza; then Mujo Jelascovic, the +governor of Biscupia; lastly old Sare the _Bulju Pasha_, or +lieutenant of the troops. The old Sare had a son named Hussein, who +was the standard-bearer; he was the most beautiful young man of the +land, nay, it was difficult to find his like. He was, indeed, as +handsome as Ayesha was comely. The one was like a lily, the other +like a pomegranate flower. + +"At that time, as I have said before, the Christians were groaning +under the Turkish yoke, and several attempts had already been made to +shake it off; nay, many of the struggles which had taken place +between the Turks and the men of the Kotar had been most successful, +as they had for their chief, Jancovic Stoyan, or Stephen, known in +history as 'the clearer of Turkish heads.' These continual skirmishes +had weakened our oppressors in such a way, and spread so much fear +amongst them, that Kuna Hassan never felt sure whenever he left his +castle walls. Finding himself reduced to this extremity, he +determined to muster all the troops he could get together and make +war upon the Christians. + +"And now," said Giulianic, "I think I can give you some of Kacic's +verses on this subject;" therefore, taking a guitar, he sang as +follows: + + "A letter wrote Hassan Aga + From Knin itself, the white-walled town; + He sent it to the bordering Turks, + To Mujo and to Velagic. + + "And in this letter Kuna spake: + 'Oh! brave men of my border-lands, + Now muster all your borderers, + And hie to Knin, the white-walled town. + + "'For we shall raid upon Kotar, + And there rich plunder shall we get + Both gold and young Molachian maids, + Shall be the prize of all the brave. + + "'Kotar will be an easy prey + For you, the warriors of the Cross! + Besides, the Sirdars are away, + And Stoyan is in Venice now. + + "'Milikovic has fallen sick, + Mocivana has lost his horse, + Mircetic has sprained his hand, + And Klana to a feast is gone.' + + "The Bulju Pasha heard all this, + And wisely answered to Kuna: + 'Forbear, Kuna Aga; forbear + To make a raid upon Kotar!'" + +Giulianic stopped to take breath. "The poem is long," said he, "and I +am old; I shall relate the story in my own words:--Well, Kuna Hassan +Aga would not be dissuaded, especially as the _Dizdars_ were for it. +The expedition took place. Jelascovic and Velagic--called the snakes +of the empire, on account of their strength and craft--came to Kuna's +castle, bringing each man three hundred men with him. The _Aga_ +mustered as many men himself, and with this little array they set off +for the Kotar. At first they were successful; they fell upon the open +country, plundering and sacking, carrying away young boys and girls +as slaves, finding nowhere the slightest opposition. It was not a +war, but a military march; thus they went on until they reached the +lovely meadows at the foot of the hills of Otre, a most pleasant +country, watered by many rivulets. + +"There they pitched their tents, and began to prepare their meal and +make merry. All at once as the sun went down, a slight mist began to +rise from the waters and from the marshes of Ostrovizza, not very far +off from there. As the day declined, the fog grew denser, and when +night came on Jancovic Stoyan, who had returned from Venice, together +with the other _Sirdars_, fell upon them, threw them upon the +marshes, and not only obliged them to give back all their plunder, +but killed more than six hundred of their men. It was only with great +difficulty that the _Aga_ and _Dizdars_ got back to Knin; they were +all in a sorry plight, regretting deeply not to have followed Sare's +advice. + +"Shortly after this, Kuna Hassan, having recovered from the wounds he +had received, gathered again all his chief warriors together. Then he +made them a long speech, saying that it was time that the Christian +hornets should be done away with, and their nests destroyed, for, if +left alive, they would daily become more troublesome; then he made +them many promises, so as to induce them to fight, but without much +success. At last he offered the hand of his handsome daughter, who, as +I have said, was indeed as beautiful as a heavenly houri, and a bride +fit for the Sultan, or the Prophet himself, to the bold warrior who +would bring him the head of Jancovic Stoyan, or those of the three +hundred Christians. The prize he requested was a great one, but the +reward he offered was such as to inflame the hearts of the greatest +cowards. + +"However, amongst the warriors that Kuna Hassan had gathered together +that day, neither old Sare nor his son, the handsome +standard-bearer, had been requested to attend, doubtless, because the +_Aga_ had thought the _Bulju Pasha_ too old, and his son too young +and too rash, for such an undertaking. Perhaps he also felt a grudge +against the _Bulju Pasha_ for having dissuaded him from the first +attack, which had met with such a bad success. + +"When poor Hussein heard of the slight he and his father had met +with, he was very much grieved, for, though he was the _Aga_'s +standard-bearer, he had been treated as a mere boy. Moreover, he was +madly in love with the beautiful Ayesha, who returned his affection. +In fact, whenever she had an opportunity, she sent him a message by +one of the eunuchs, and every time he used to pass under her window +she was at the lattice, and she often dropped a flower, or even her +handkerchief, if no one was looking on. + +"Hussein would have risked his life to try and obtain her; nay, he +would even have gone to Zara and fight Stoyan, if he could get her +father's consent to wed her. + +"As for the _Sirdars_, they were only too glad that Hussein was not +amongst the warriors called forth to strive for Ayesha's hand, nor +would they now allow any new pretender to come forth and take part in +their raids with them. + +"During the many skirmishes that took place round about Knin, Hussein +had been left to take care of the castle, and then he had succeeded +in bribing the head eunuch to allow him to talk with Ayesha. + +"This keeper, knowing how fond his mistress was of the handsome +standard-bearer, had consented to allow the lovers to meet, while he +watched over their safety. + +"At first, when all the Mussulman warriors met with so many losses, +the lovers were happy, for they thought it would be years before any +of them could ask for their reward; but afterwards, when it was known +that Velagic's heap of heads was daily increasing, their gladness of +heart changed into the deepest sorrow. Both saw that there was very +little chance of their ever being able to marry, and Ayesha, rather +than give up the man she loved so deeply and become the wife of the +old _Dizdar_, whom she detested, proposed to her lover that they +should run away together. + +"They waited till the very last moment, thinking that Velagic might +be killed, or some other unforeseen circumstance might take place; +but they had no _Kismet_, for the _Dizdar_ seemed to have a charmed +life; he had already got together about two hundred and ninety heads. +How he had got them, nobody could understand, for he had never +received the slightest wound in any of his many fights. + +"The last time the lovers met, they agreed that the day upon which +Velagic brought the ten last heads they would make their escape. +Hussein, upon that night, was to be on the rocks at the foot of the +castle, somewhere near the place occupied by the harem; then, at +midnight, when all the town had sunk into rest, and all the lights +were extinguished, Ayesha would put a taper by her window to guide +him if everything was ready for their flight. After the _muezzin_ had +called the faithful to prayers, she would open the lattice and throw +out a rope-ladder, by means of which he would climb up into the +castle. There he was to be received by the eunuch that had hitherto +befriended him--be led to her chamber-door. From there they would +pass by an underground passage, the keys of which she had. This +passage had an outlet, somewhere beyond the town, near the bridge, +where, indeed, there is a kind of den or hole. There Hussein was to +have swift horses ready, so that they might at once escape to Zara or +Sebenico, and if that was not far enough, they could there freight a +ship and go off to Venice. + +"Hussein, overjoyed, promised that he would take the necessary steps, +so that nothing might hinder their flight. + +"Poor lovers! they little knew how all their designs were to be +thwarted! + +"At about four miles from Knin, and not far from the highway leading +to Grab, rises a huge beetling rock about thirty feet in height; it +seems to slant so much over the road that all the passers-by shudder +lest it should fall and crush them. The name of this rock is the +Uzdah-kamen, or the Stone of the Sighs--perhaps, because the wind +which always blows there seems to be moaning, or, as there is a kind +of natural cistern, spring, or well of water, which is said to be +fathomless, more than one luckless wanderer, going to drink of that +icy-cold water, happened to slip into it, utter a moan and a sigh, +and then all was over with him. + +"Near this fountain there is a deep cavern, which is the +dwelling-place of a witch, well known in Turkish and Arabian +mythology, as well as Chaldean lore. Her name, which is hardly ever +uttered, and never without a shudder of awe, is Nedure; but she is +usually spoken of as The Witch. This Nedure--for we may well call +her by her name without fear--used to take the form of a lovely young +female, and come and sit by the spring at the entrance of her cave. +There she would sit, combing her long hair, which was of the deepest +hue of the night. Then, displaying all the bewitching beauty of +sixteen summers, she would press all the handsome youths who passed +thereby to come and rest in her den. + +"Like a wily spider, she daily caught some silly man to linger and +gaze upon her large, languishing black eyes with long silken lashes, +like natural _khol_, or to look on the dark moles on her alabaster +skin. If he did so, he was lost, and nothing more was heard of him, +but his sighs wafted by the wind. + +"Now, it happened one day that as Hussein was going to Grab on +horseback, he passed by the rock of Uzdah-kamen, and, lo and behold! +Nedure was sitting by the fountain waiting for him. As soon as she +saw him she beckoned to him to go up to her; but he, far from +obeying, spurred his horse and turned away from the woman. + +"'Hussein,' said she, 'you are warm and weary; come and have a +draught of this delicious water and rest a while in my moss-grown +cavern.' + +"'Thank you, I am neither warm nor weary; so I require neither water +nor rest.' + +"'Hussein, why do you turn away your head, and will not even deign to +cast a glance upon me?' + +"'Because I have heard of your enticements and blandishments, and do +not wish to fall a prey to such charms.' + +"'I am afraid people have slandered me to you,' quoth she; 'but +believe them not. I am your friend--as I am, indeed, that of all +lovers. I know how your heart yearns for Kuna Hassan Aga's daughter, +and I should like to be kind to you, and help you in getting her for +your bride.' + +"'Thank you, indeed,' replied the standard-bearer, who knew the wiles +of the witch; 'you are very good, but I hope to obtain Ayesha by the +strength of my love, and not by your wicked art.' + +"'Look how ungracious you are. I wish to befriend you, whilst you +only answer me by taunts.' + +"'Thank you, but your friendship would cost me too dear.' + +"'No; my help is only paid by love. You see, I do not ask much.' + +"'Still, I should have to remain your debtor. My heart is full of +love for Ayesha, and it can harbour none for creatures such as you.' + +"'Well, then,' said she, in her sweetest voice, which was as soft as +the morning breeze amongst the orange-groves, 'if you hate me in this +way, why do you not look upon me? Do you think my charms can have any +temptation for you?' + +"'We should try to resist temptation, and then it will flee from us.' + +"Thereupon he spurred his horse and rode away. + +"From that day, Nedure's heart, which had until then burned with +lust, was filled with the bitterest hatred for the young man, who had +not yielded to her request. + +"Therefore she only thought to bring about his death, and was ever +plotting by which way she could harm him, for the Most High would not +allow her to do any harm to the faithful, so she strove to find +someone who would take up her vengeance for her, and now she was +about to reach her aim. + +"When Hussein and Ayesha had planned together everything for their +escape, Nedure, the witch, who by her art could read the future, and +who, besides, could change herself into the likeness of a bird, a +rat, or even into that of any of the smaller insects, managed somehow +or other to overhear all that conversation of the lovers, and then +she at once sent for Velagic and informed him of what was to take +place. + +"'Velagic,' said she, 'you are old, and it is true you think yourself +a world-wise man, but do you really believe that Ayesha, who is as +beautiful as the rising moon, for whose charms all men lose their +wits, can fall in love with an old man like you?' + +"'I do not ask her to fall in love with me. Now, by your help, I +shall have got together the number of heads which the _Aga_ requires +as the prize for his daughter, and then she will be mine.' + +"'Do not be too sure of that. Whilst you are numbering your heads, +Hussein, the handsome standard-bearer, has found his way to Ayesha's +heart.' + +"Velagic winced at hearing this; but soon he shrugged his shoulders, +and added: + +"'What does it matter if that young coxcomb is in love with her, or +even she with him. In a day or two I shall claim her as my bride. +Once she is in my stronghold of Stermizza, woe to the flies that come +buzzing around my honey.' + +"'Velagic, Velagic,' said the witch, 'there is many a slip 'twixt the +cup and the lip; to-morrow you may find the cage empty and the bird +flown.' + +"'What do you mean, Nedure?' + +"'I mean what I say.' + +"'Explain yourself, I beg you.' + +"The witch thereupon told the _Dizdar_ all that was to take place, +and then advised him what he had to do. + +"That day passed away and night came on; it was even a very dark one, +because, not only was there no moon, but the sky was overspread with +a thick mass of clouds, and heaven seemed to be lowering on the +earth. + +"The hours passed slowly for three persons at Knin that night. Two of +them repeated their prayers devoutly, and tried to fix their thoughts +towards the holy _Kaaba_; one alone, whose heart was full of +murderous designs, could not pray at all. + +"Velagic had been a wicked man; he had forfeited the happiness of his +future life, but never as yet had he rendered himself guilty of +shedding the blood of a Mussulman, nay, of murdering the son of one +of his greatest friends. The guilt he was about to commit was beyond +redemption; he knew that the Compassionate would spurn him away in +his wrath, and that he would be doomed to eternal fire; but what +could he do now? it was too late to retreat. He was in the witch's +power, nay, an instrument in her hands. + +"He tried to pray, but every time he attempted to utter Allah's +sacred name, it seemed as if the three hundred heads now gathered +upon his tower were all blinking and grinning at him. + +"Midnight came; all the preparations were made, every necessary +precaution against surprise was taken, the horses were ready for the +fugitives at the opening of the cave beyond the bridge. + +"Hussein, at the foot of the tower, saw the beacon light at Ayesha's +window, and slowly and stealthily he scrambled on to the rocks +beneath it, awaiting, with a beating heart, for the given signal. + +"All at once, in the midst of the darkness, he heard the _adan_--the +chant of the _muezzin_--calling the faithful to the prayers of the +_Ramazan_. + +"'God is most great,' uttered Hussein faintly, and then lifting his +eyes as the sound of the _muezzin_'s voice had died away in the +distance, he saw the lattice of Ayesha's window open, and he heard +the ladder of ropes slowly being let down. + +"He had time to say one _rekah_, or prayer, before the ladder reached +the ground, and then he seized the ropes and began to go up. The +ascent was a long one, for the tower was very high. He had not gone +up many steps, when he heard a noise somewhere above his head. He +shuddered and listened. It was nothing but an owl that had its nest +in some hole in the wall; doubtless it had been frightened by the +ladder, and now it flew away with a loud screech, grazing Hussein +with its wings as it passed. + +"Hussein, though brave, felt his limbs quake with fear; was it not an +evil omen? Would not something happen now that he was about to reach +the goal of his happiness! + +"Was it not possible that the eunuch had betrayed him? No, that could +not be; this man had always been so fond of Ayesha. A thousand dismal +thoughts crowded through his brain; the way up in the midst of the +darkness seemed everlasting. He looked towards the lighted window; he +was only half-way up. + +"Just then he thought he heard something creak. Was it the rope +breaking beneath his weight? Frightened, he hastened to climb up; if +there was any danger it would soon be over. + +"He muttered a few verses of the Koran; he looked up again; now he +could see Ayesha's face at the open window; she stretched forth her +arms towards him. How beautiful she was! There, in the darkness, it +seemed as if all the constellations had hidden themselves before her +radiant beauty. + +"He stopped one moment to take breath and to look at her, when again +he heard the ropes creak, and at the same moment the ladder snapped +under the young man's weight. He lifted up his arms towards her, but +alas! she was beyond his grasp. The next instant he fell with a heavy +thud upon the rocks, and from those into the yawning precipice over +which the castle was built. + +"Ayesha uttered a loud cry, which was repeated several times by the +surrounding echoes, and then she swooned away in the eunuch's arms. + +"Velagic, who, apparently, had been hidden close by, saw Hussein fall +into the chasm, and heard Ayesha's cry; then he mounted his horse and +galloped away. + +"When Ayesha, with the help of the eunuch, got over her faintness, +she went to the window and looked down, but she could only see the +darkness of the chasm below. She listened; she heard nothing but the +wind, the rustling of the leaves, and now and then the screech of +some night-bird. She pulled up the ladder; she saw that it had been +cut in several places, at one of which it snapped. She understood +that some foul treachery had been committed, but she could not make +out who had discovered their secret and had dealt her this cruel +wrong. She could not suspect the eunuch, who was there by her side, +her friend to the last. + +"She passed a night of most terrible anguish and anxiety, waiting +impatiently, and still dreading the morrow. She tried to hope that +Hussein might not have fallen down the chasm, that he might have been +caught by some of the trees or bushes that grew on the rocks, and +thus saved from death; but it was, at best, only a faint kind of +forlorn hope. + +"Not a cry, not a groan escaped from her lips, as she stood cold and +tearless, at her window, almost stupefied by the intensity of her +grief. Thus she remained motionless and dumb for hours, until the +first rays of dawn lighted the tops of the Veli-Berdo, the mountain +over the fortress. + +"Her eyes pierced the faint glimmering of the dawn, and, looking down +into the chasm, at the place where the two torrents meet, there she +saw three lovely maidens of superhuman beauty, tending the remains of +her lover. By their garments, of the colour and splendour of +emeralds, by their faces shining like burnished silver, she knew that +they were celestial houris, and that her lover was already amongst +the blessed. + +"When she saw this sight, she wanted to dash herself down into the +chasm and rejoin her happy lover, hoping that Allah would be merciful +and allow her to meet Hussein in the abode of the blessed; but then +one of the houris beckoned to her to stop, and in a twinkling she was +by her side, whispering words of comfort in her ear. + +"Her attendants, whom she had dismissed in the early evening, came +back to her early in the morning, and they were surprised to see she +had fainted by the window. + +"When she recovered from her swoon, every recollection of that +terrible night seemed to have passed away; far from being bereaved +and forlorn, she was a happy maiden, about to be united to her lover +in eternal bliss. + +"Later on in the day her father summoned her to his presence, to tell +her that the _Dizdar_ of Stermizza had brought the three hundred +Christian heads demanded as the price for her hand, and that she was +to get ready to receive him as the man who was to be her husband. + +"Ayesha crossed her hands on her breast and bowed; then she uttered, +in a soft, slow voice, that sounded as an echo of a distant sound: + +"'My lord, it shall be as Kismet has ordained.' + +"As Kuna Hassan knew nothing of all that had happened, he thought +that his daughter meant that she was ready to obey the decrees of the +Fates, that had chosen Velagic for her husband; so he answered: + +"'Though he would not have been the man I should have chosen for +thee, still, by his bravery, he has won thee for his bride; so +prepare yourself to go with him this very evening. But, daughter of +my heart,' added he, taking her hand, 'before parting with your +father, have you no request to make?' + +"'Yes, father.' + +"'Well, let me hear it, my child, and if it is in my power to grant +it, you may be sure that your wish will be gratified.' + +"'My request, though strange indeed, is a very simple one; it is that +my betrothal should take place this evening, on the Poto-devi-Most, +just when the sun gilds with its rays the snowy peaks of the +Veli-Berdo. This, and nothing more.' + +"The father looked at his child, astonished. + +"'It is, indeed, a strange request, and were it not for the earnest +way in which it is made, I should think that it was merely a joke. +Anyhow, it shall be as you wish; only, may I know why you do not wish +to be married in the usual way?' + +"'I have had a vision at day-break, and the powers above have decreed +that it shall be so; but I cannot speak about it till this evening, +at the appointed place.' + +"The _Aga_, wishing the ceremony to be performed with the utmost +splendour, sent word at once to the _Dizdar_ of Stermizza to be on +the Bridge of the Two Torrents at the appointed time. Similar +messages were likewise sent to the other _Dizdars_ and _Sirdars_, and +to all the gentry of Knin and of the neighbouring towns. + +"The sun was sinking down below the horizon when Ibrahim Velagic, +followed by Mujo Jelascovic, by the old _Bulju Pasha_, who was as yet +ignorant of his son's fate, by the other Mussulman warriors, as well +as by a number of _svati_--all came to the bridge, attired in +magnificent clothes of silk and satin, laced in gold, with their +finest weapons glittering with precious stones. Then came Kuna Hassan +Aga, with all his train and a number of slaves, some carrying a +palanquin, the others the bridal gifts. + +"When the two parties had met at the bridge, all wondering what would +take place next, Ayesha ordered the slaves to put her down. + +"Velagic at once dismounted from his horse, and came forward to help +her to alight, offering her his hand. + +"She simply waved him off, and standing up: 'How dare you come to me! +Look at your hand; it is stained with blood; and not with Christian, +but with Moslem blood.' + +"The eyes of the bystanders were all turned upon the _Dizdar_ of +Stermizza, who got all at once of a livid hue; still, he lifted up his +hand and said: + +"'Ayesha, my hands have often been stained with the blood of our +enemies, never with that of our brethren.' + +"'Man,' said the young girl, 'in the name of the Living God, thou +liest!' + +"There was a murmur and a stir amongst the crowd, as when the slight +wind which precedes the storm rustles amongst the leaves of the +trees. + +"Then Ayesha, turning towards Sare: 'Father,' said she to him, 'your +hand.' + +"The _Bulju Pasha_ rushed forward and helped her to alight. + +"As soon as she was on the ground she threw off her veil and her +_feredge_, and stood there in her glittering bridal dress, the +costly jewels of which seemed to shine less than her beautiful face. + +"All the men were astounded at such an act of boldness from so modest +a maiden; but her dazzling beauty seemed to fill them with that awe +which is felt at some supernatural sight. They all thought they were +looking upon a houri, or some heavenly vision, rather than upon a +human being; so that when she opened her lips again to speak, a +perfect silence reigned everywhere. + +"'Sare,' said she, 'where is your son?' + +"'My child?' replied the old man; 'I have not see him the whole of +this long day.' + +"'Ibrahim Velagic, _Dizdar_ of Stermizza, where is Hussein, the +standard-bearer?' + +"'How am I to know? Am I his keeper?' + +"'Sare,' continued the young girl, 'when, after the fight of +Ostrovizza, my father had promised me as the bride of the warrior who +would bring him the head of the brave Christian knight Jancovic +Stoyan, or those of three hundred of our foes, Hussein, your son, by +the machinations of Ibrahim Velagic and his friends, was excluded +from amongst the warriors who could obtain my hand by fighting for +our faith and our country. Sare, I loved your son; yes, father, I +say it aloud and unblushingly, for Hussein was as good as he was +handsome, and as brave as he was good. I loved him with all my heart, +and he loved me, because the Fates had decreed that we should be man +and wife, if we lived. Our faith, therefore, was plighted. We waited, +hoping that some happy incident would happen to free me from my +impending fate. At last I knew that Ibrahim Velagic had got together +the number of heads demanded by my father for my dower, and that +to-day he was coming to claim me as his bride. Rather than be the +wife of that imposter, felon and murderer, I should have thrown +myself in yonder chasm. + +"'You are astonished at such language; but, father, how is it that +all the warriors aspiring to my hand cannot put together a hundred +heads, whilst Velagic alone has three hundred? + +"'Well, then, know that those heads are by no means the heads of our +enemies; they are rather those of the unhappy beings who of late have +been seduced by Nedure, the witch, into her den, and who after their +rash act never saw daylight again. Look at those ghastly heads, and +perhaps many of you will find there people that you have known.' + +"At these words, stirred to rage at the light of truth which gleamed +from Ayesha's eyes, there was such a yelling and hissing, that it +seemed as if all the men there had been changed into snakes. They +would have thrown themselves on the _Dizdar_ and torn him to pieces +there and then, had Ayesha not stopped them. + +"'Forbear,' said she, 'and hear me out; wait at least for the proofs +I shall give you of his guilt.' + +"'Ayesha!' cried out old Sare, overcome by anguish, 'and my son +--where is my son? Is my beautiful boy's head amongst the three +hundred?' + +"'No; brave Hussein withstood long ago the enticement of the witch, +and she has been since then his bitterest enemy.' + +"Sare heaved a deep sigh of relief. + +"'Hussein was to deliver me from that heinous wretch. Last night we +were to flee together. I had the houris to help me, but alas! Ibrahim +Velagic had the powers of darkness. It was night, and he won. Hussein +yesternight was under my windows, as we had agreed upon. I opened my +lattice and lowered him a ladder of ropes, upon which he was climbing +joyfully; a moment more he would have reached the windowsill. All at +once, an owl screeched, the ropes gave way, and Hussein, my brave +Hussein, was dashed down those rocks and into the dreadful chasm. +Sare, my poor Sare, you have no son. Still, be of good cheer; this +morning, when the first rays of the sun were gilding the tops of the +Veli-Berdo, I saw the celestial maidens tending him. His mangled body +is in the chasm, but his soul is in the blessed abode of peace.' + +"'Ayesha,' interrupted the _Aga_, 'is all this true?' + +"The girl beckoned to a slave to approach, and then she took a parcel +from his hands. + +"'This,' said she, opening it, 'is what remains of the ladder; and +you will find Hussein's body in the chasm, smiling in the happy sleep +of death. The houris, who have been praying over him the whole day, +have covered him with garlands of flowers. Go and dig his grave in +the burying-ground, and dig another one by his side.' + +"'But,' said Kuna Hassan, 'how did the accident happen?' + +"'Nedure hated Hussein, but she could not harm him, so she apprised +Velagic of what was to happen; nay, she did more, she transformed him +into the likeness of a rat, and changing herself into an owl, she +deposited the _Dizdar_ on the sill of my room, there he came and +gnawed at the ropes of the ladder.' + +"'This is false,' said the _Dizdar_. 'Whoever can believe such a +story? Why, the girl is mad!' + +"'Guards,' said the _Aga_, with his hand on the haft of his dagger, +'seize Velagic, and mind that you do not let him escape!' + +"'Away!' replied the _Dizdar_. 'A man of my rank can only be judged +by the Sultan.' + +"'Stop!' cried Ayesha; then, lifting her beautiful arm, naked up to +the shoulder, and whiter than the strings of pearls entwined around +it, and pointing towards the highway: + +"'Do you see there a cloud of dust on the road? Do you see those men +coming here? Do you know who they are? You cannot distinguish them, +but I can.' + +"'Who are they, Ayesha?' cried all the bystanders. + +"'The foremost man amongst them, that tall and handsome youth, that +looks like Prince George of Cappadocia, is no less a hero. It is +Stoyan Jancovic, the man whose back you never saw; the others are but +a few of his followers.' + +"Then, turning to Velagic: 'Now, craven, utter your last prayer, if +you can and if you dare, then prepare to fight; your hour has come.' + +"Hearing these words, the _Dizdar_ grew ashy pale; then he began to +quake with fear. Such an overpowering dread filled his soul that he +seemed to have been smitten with a strong fit of the ague. Still, +trying to hide his anxiety: + +"'Yes, we shall fight; Allah be thanked, brothers, that this infidel +dog is within our reach. Yes, friends, we shall see the power of the +Crescent over the Cross.' + +"'No; you shall fight alone,' said Ayesha, authoritatively; 'and it +is useless to contaminate the name of the All-powerful. As you are +already doomed to perdition, call to your aid Sheytan and Nedure.' + +"Ayesha had hardly uttered these words when Stoyan, having made a +sign to his companions to keep back, rode boldly up to where the +chiefs were standing, and, when a few steps from Ayesha, he curbed +his foaming steed, that, unable to brook control, began at once to +paw the ground. + +"'Maiden,' said he, bowing, 'I am here at thy behest. I have this +night had a strange dream. A _Vila_ appeared to me in my sleep, first +in the likeness of a nightingale and then in the shape of a dainty, +glittering little snake. She told me that for your sake I had to +accomplish, this very day, two mighty deeds of justice. The one was +to rid this neighbourhood of the evil doings of Nedure, the powerful +witch. This is already done.' + +"Thereupon, loosening a silken scarf attached to his saddle, he threw +the sorceress's head at the _Dizdar_'s feet. + +"'Now,' said he, turning to Velagic, 'you who have been her +accomplice--you who brag to have killed three hundred Christians, +who, while skulking away like a cur, dare to say that you have been +looking everywhere for me, to slay me--here I am.' + +"Appalled at the sight of the witch's hideous head, terrified by the +hero's words, shaking like an aspen leaf, full of dread and +consternation, Velagic looked up at his companions for help; but on +their faces he saw nothing but angry scowls, looks of scorn and +hatred. + +"'Fight,' cried the _Aga_, 'or a worse death awaits thee, the +ignominious death of a murderer and a sorcerer! Fight, coward, fight! +for if thou fallest not by that brave man's hand, thou shalt this +very day be impaled as a wizard.' + +"The _Dizdar_, seeing that there was no escape, plucked up his +courage in his own defence, called the powers of darkness to his +help, and unexpectedly rushed upon Stoyan, hoping to catch him off +his guard, and to despatch him with a treacherous blow of his +scimitar. + +"'Fair play! fair play!' shouted the chiefs. + +"'The laws of chivalry, gentleman, are not expected to be known by a +vile recreant like Ibrahim Velagic,' quoth Stoyan, whose keen eye +forthwith saw the stroke, and whose deft hand not only parried it, +but dealt his adversary such a mighty blow that it cut off the +_Dizdar_'s head and sent it rolling on the ground by the side of +Nedure's. + +"'And now, beautiful maiden, the task you have enjoined me is done; +would to God thou hadst called upon me before.' + +"'I thank thee, gentle knight,' said Ayesha, who all the time had +been standing on the parapet of the old stone bridge. 'Thou hast +avenged my lover's death; may Heaven reward thee for thy deed.' + +"'_Allah, bismillah!_' cried out the chiefs. + +"Thereupon Stoyan, bowing courteously, wheeled round his horse and, +galloping away, was soon out of sight. + +"'And now,' said Ayesha, 'I had sworn to Hussein, that flower of +youth and beauty, to be his for ever. Now I shall keep my vow. May +the Most Merciful unite me to my lover. God of my fathers, God of +Mohamed, receive me amongst the blessed.' + +"Thereupon, lifting a small dagger which she held in her hand, she +plunged it into her heart, and before her father had time to rush up +to her, she had fallen into the torrent underneath, dyeing its waters +of a crimson hue, just as the last rays of the sinking sun seemed to +tinge in blood the lofty tops of the Veli-Berdo. + +"From that day the Bridge of the Two Torrents has ever been called +the Bullin-Most, or the Bridge of the Turkish Maiden, and every +evening, when the day is fine, the sun sheds a blood-red light on the +highest peaks of the Dinara, and the wind that, at gloaming, blows +down the dell and through the arches of the bridge, seems to waft +back an echo of the last moan of the _Aga_'s beautiful daughter." + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +SEXAGESIMA + + +The days that followed the departure of the _pobratim_ were sad ones +indeed. The Zwillievics had gone back to Montenegro; then Milena, not +having any excuse to remain longer a guest of the Bellacics, was +obliged to go back with a sinking heart to her lonely, out-of-the-way +cottage; a dreary house which had never been a home to her. + +When the Christmas snow had melted away, a sudden strong gale of wind +dried up the sods, so that the grass everywhere was withered and +scorched; the very rocks themselves looked lean, pinched-up, bare and +sharp. All nature had put on a wizened, wolfish, wintry appearance. +The weather was not only cold, it was bleak and gloomy. + +After a fortnight of a dull, overcast sky, it began to drizzle; +everything smelt of mildew; the mouldy turf oozed with moisture, the +rotting trees dripped with dampness. The world was decaying. If at +times a ray of sunlight pierced the grey clouds, its pale yellow, +languid light brought with it neither warmth nor comfort. Evidently +the sun was pining away, dying; our bereaved planet was moaning for +the loss of his life-giving light. + +During all this time the dull sirocco never ceased to blow, either in +a low, unending wail, or in louder and more fitful blasts. Usually, +as soon as one gust had passed away, a stronger one came rolling down +the mountain side, increasing in sound as it drew nearer; then +passing, it died away in the distance. + +These booming blasts made every mother think of her sailor boy, +tossed far away on the raging mountain waves; wives lighted candles +to St. Nicholas, for the safety of their husbands; whilst the girls +thought of their lovers by day, and at night they dreamt continually +of flowers, babies, stagnant waters, white grapes, lice and other +such omens of ill-luck. + +For poor, forlorn Milena, those days were like the murky morning +hours that follow a night of revelry. She was dull, down-hearted, +dispirited; nor had she, indeed, anything to cheer her up. In her +utter solitude, she spun from the moment she got up to the moment she +went to bed; interrupting herself only to eat a crust of bread and +some olives, or else to mope listlessly. At times, however, her +loneliness, and the utter stillness of her house, oppressed her in +such a way that it almost drove her to distraction. + +She mused continually over all the events of her life during the last +months, after her merry girlhood had come to an end by that hateful +and hasty marriage of hers; she recalled to mind that time of misery +with her old miserly mother-in-law, who even counted the grains of +parched Indian-corn she ate. Still, soon after this old dame's death, +came that fated St. John's Eve. It was the first ray of sunlight in +the gloom of her married life. It was also the first time she had +seen Uros. + +She had not fallen in love with him that evening; she had only liked +him because he was good-looking and his ways were so winning. +Everybody was fond of him, he was so winsome. + +Little by little, after that, his presence began to haunt her, his +face was always before her eyes. When she woke in the morning, his +name was on her lips. Still, that was not love; she even fancied she +only liked to teaze him because she was a married woman, a matron, +whilst he was but a boy; moreover, he was so shy. + +When Radonic came home, she woke to the stern reality of life; she at +last found out that she hated her husband and loved Uros, who, though +a boy, was, withal, older than herself. That was the time when +Radonic's rage being roused by Vranic, he had almost killed Milenko. +Then, lastly, shuddering and appalled, she remembered that night when +Uros came to sing his farewell song. + +She stopped spinning now; the corners of her pretty, childish mouth +were drawn down; she hid her face between her hands, whilst the tears +trickled slowly through her fingers. + +Why had she been so foolishly weak? Now the thought of that night +drove her mad. Could she but blot away the past months and begin life +anew! + +Alas! what was done could never be undone. She rocked herself on her +stool in a brown study. What was she to do? What was to become of +her? + +Radonic would return in a few months; then he would kill her. That, at +least, would put a stop to her misery. But the thought of having to +live for months in mortal dread was worse than death itself. The +maddest thoughts came to her mind. She would leave Budua, dress up as +a boy, go off to Cattaro, embark for some distant town. And then? + +Far away the people spoke a gibberish she could not understand, and +they were heathens, who even ate meat on fast-days. These thoughts, +in her loneliness, were almost driving her to distraction, when, +unexpectedly, her husband came back home. His ship, in a tempest, had +been dashed against a reef, off the shores of Ustica, the westernmost +of the AEolian Islands. Not only the vessel, but also the cargo, and +even two sailors, were lost. + +On seeing her husband appear before her, Milena felt all her blood +freeze within her veins. She had disliked Radonic from the very first +moment she had cast her eyes upon him; since her marriage her +antipathy had increased with his ill-treatment, so that now she +positively loathed him. + +Still, when the first moment of almost insurmountable dread was over, +she heaved a deep sigh of relief. His return was a godsend to her. +Had he not just come in time to save her from ignominy? She even +mastered herself so far as to make Radonic believe that she was glad +to see him, that she was longing for his return, and for a while he +believed it. Still, when his mouth was pressed on hers, as he clasped +her fondly in his arms, the kiss he gave her now was even worse than +the first one she had received from him on her wedding-day. It seemed +as if he had seared her lips with burning, cauterising steel. After a +day or two, she could not keep up this degrading comedy any longer; +her whole being revolted against it in such a way that Radonic +himself could not help noticing how obnoxious his presence was to +her. + +She was, however, glad about one thing. Her husband, having lost his +large vessel and all his costly cargo, for he had of late been +trading on his own account, would not be able to settle down in +Budua, as he had intended doing; then, being now quite poor, people +would not be envying her any more. What good had her husband's riches +done to her? None at all. + +Even in that she was doomed to disappointment. The widow of one of +the sailors who had got drowned at Ustica came to beg for a pittance. +She had several little children at home clamouring for bread. Milena +gave her some flour and some oil, and promised to speak to her +husband. + +"But," said she, "we, too, are very poor now." + +"Poor!" replied the woman. "Why, you are richer now than you ever +were." + +"How, if we've lost our ship with all its cargo?" + +"Yes, but it was insured." + +"Insured? What's that?" + +"You mustn't ask me, for I'm only a poor ignorant woman. Only they +say that when a ship is insured, you get far more money for it than +it was ever really worth." + +"And who is to give you money for a few planks rotting at the bottom +of the sea, or some stray spars washed ashore?" asked Milena, +incredulously. + +"Who? Ah! that's more than I can tell. Anyhow, I know it's true, for +all that." + +Milena, astonished, stared at the poor woman. She asked herself +whether grief had not muddled the widow's brain. No, she did not look +insane. + +"Who told you such foolish things, my poor Stosija?" said she, +enquiringly, after a while; "for you know very well that you are +speaking nonsense." + +"It is no nonsense, for the _pop_ himself told me." + +Milena's bewilderment increased. + +"Moreover, the priest added that insurances are one of the many +sacrilegious inventions which lead men to perdition." Then, lowering +her voice to a whisper: "They have a pact with Satan." + +Milena drew back appalled. + +"When a ship is insured the owners care very little what becomes of +the precious lives they have on board. The captains themselves get +hardened. They do not light any more tapers to St. Nicholas to send +them prosperous gales; the priests offer no more prayers for their +safety; and, as for silver _ex-votos_, why, no one thinks of them any +more. The _pop_ is so angry that he says, if he had his own way, he'd +excommunicate every captain, even every sailor, embarking on an +insured ship." + +"Mercy on us!" quoth Milena, crossing herself repeatedly. + +"In fact, since all these new-fangled, heathenish inventions, you +hear of nothing but fires on land and shipwrecks at sea. People once +went to bed as soon as it was dark; at eight o'clock every fire and +every light was put out. Now, people will soon be turning night into +day, as they do in Francezka and Vnetci (Venice), flying thus in the +very face of God Himself. Now all the rotten ships are sent to sea, +where they founder at the very first storm. It isn't true, perhaps?" + +"Aye, it must be true," sighed Milena, "if the _pop_ says so." + +"Once fires and shipwrecks were sent as punishments to the wicked, or +as trials to the good; now, with the insurances, God Himself has been +deprived of His scourge. The wicked prosper, the rich grow richer, +and as for the poor--even the Virgin Mary and all the saints turn a +deaf ear to them." + +Milena shook her head despondingly. + +"For instance," continued Stosija, "would the miser's heart ever have +been touched, had his barns been insured." + +"What miser?" asked Milena. + +"Is it possible that you don't know the story of 'Old Nor and the +Miser'?" + +"Oh! it's a story," added Milena, disappointed. + +"Yes, it's a story, but it's true for all that, for it happened at +Grohovo, and my grandfather, who was alive at that time, knew both +the miser and the idiot. Well, the miser--who had as much money as +his trees had leaves, and that is more than he could count--was one +day brewing _rakee_, when an old man, who lived on the public +charity, or in doing odd jobs that could be entrusted to him, stopped +at his door. + +"'I smell _rakee_,' said Old Nor" (ninny), "who, by-the-bye, was not +quite such an idiot as he was believed to be. + +"'Oh, you do!' quoth the miser, sneeringly. + +"'Yes,' said Nor, his eyes twinkling and his mouth watering. + +"'And I suppose you'd like to taste some?' + +"'That I should; will you give me a sip?' + +"'Why not?' + +"Thereupon the miser dipped a small ladle in a kettle of boiling +water and offered it to Old Nor. + +"The idiot drank down the hot water without wincing. + +"'It's good, isn't it?' asked the rich man. + +"'Delicious!' and the old man smacked his lips. + +"'It warms the pit of your stomach nicely?' + +"'It even burns it.' + +"'It's rare stuff, I can tell you; will you have some more?' + +"'It's of your own brewing, one can see; I'll have some more.' + +"The miser once more dipped the ladle in the hot water and offered it +again to the beggar, who quaffed the contents unflinchingly. + +"'You see, bad tongues say I'm a miser, but it's all slander; for +when I like a fellow, I'd give him the shirt off my back, and I like +you, Old Nor. Will you have another ladleful?' + +"'Willingly,' and the ninny's eyes flashed. + +"Thereupon he again swallowed up the scalding water, but not a muscle +of his face twitched. + +"'Are you not afraid it'll go to your head, old man?' asked the +miser, mischievously. + +"'Old Nor's head isn't muddled with so little,' added he, scowling. + +"'Then try another cup?' + +"'No,' replied the ninny, shaking his head, 'for to-day I've had +enough. As soon as the _Cesar_' (emperor) 'sends me the money he owes +me, and I marry the Virgin Mary--for that was his craze--I'll give +you something that'll warm the pit of your stomach, too.' + +"Then he turned round and went off without any thanks or wishing the +blessing of God on the miser's dwelling, as he was wont to do. + +"The miser's house was all surrounded by sheds, storehouses and +stables; barns groaning under the weight of corn, hay and straw; his +sacks were heaped with flour and wheat; his cellars overflowed with +wine and oil; in his dairies you could have bathed in milk, for he +neither lacked cows, nor sheep, nor goats. Well, not long after the +beggar had been scalded with hot water, a fire broke out in his +granaries at night, and all the wealth that was stored therein was +wasted by fire. + +"The miser grieved and lamented, but he soon had masons and +bricklayers come from all around, and in a short time they built him +finer stables, sheds and stores than the old ones; and after the +harvest was gathered, and the aftermath was garnered, and all the +outer buildings were filled, with the grace of God, a terrible fire +broke out one morning, and before the men could bring any help, for +the flames rose fiercely on every side like living springs that have +burst their flood-gates, so that the water poured down upon it only +scattered the fire far around, and the fine new buildings came +crumbling down with a crash, just like houses built upon sand. Then +the miser had new masons and bricklayers, and also architects and +engineers. Soon they built him stately store-houses of stone and +beautiful barns of bricks, higher, vaster and stronger than the +former ones. These granaries were like palaces, and a wonder in the +land. When the fruits of the field were gathered and the heart of the +miser was rejoiced at the sight of so much wealth, then, in the +middle of the day, as he was seated at table eating cakes overflowing +with honey, and quaffing down bumpers of wine, then the fire broke +out in his barns, and, behold, his buildings looked like a dreadful +dragon spouting and spurting sparks of fire, and vomiting out volumes +of smoke and flames. It was, indeed, a terrible sight. + +"The rich man saw at last that the hand of God was weighing upon him, +and he felt himself chastened. He cast about for some time, not +knowing what to do. So he took a fat calf and two lambs and a kid, +and killed them; and he cooked them; and he baked bread; and he +invited all his acquaintances, rich and poor, to a feast, where he +spared neither wine nor _slivovitz_; and he did not scald their +throats with hot water, but with his own strong _rakee_. Then, when +they had all eaten and were merry, he said to them: + +"'The Lord, in His mercy, has scourged me--for whom the Lord loveth +He chasteneth--He has given me a warning and a foretaste of what +might be awaiting me hereafter. Therefore, I am humbled, and I +submit; but if God has chosen any one among you to chastise me, +kindly tell me, and I swear, on my soul, on the Cross of our Saviour, +Who died for our sins, not only never to harm him, but to forgive him +freely.' + +"Thereupon Old Nor rose and said: + +"'_Gospod_, it is I who have burnt down your barns. One day I passed +by your door and begged you for a draught of the liquor you were +brewing; then you offered me scalding water, and when I gulped it +down you laughed at me because you thought me witless. Three times +did I drink down the fiery water you offered me; three times did I +consume with fire all the barns that surround your house. Still, I +only made you see, but not taste, fire, for I might have burned you +down in your house, like a rat in his hole, and then the pit of your +stomach would have been warm indeed; but I did not do so, because I +am Old Nor, and the little children jibe and the big children jeer at +me, and all laugh and make mouths at me.' + +"The rich man bowed down his head, rebuked. Then he stretched out his +arms and clasped the beggar to his breast, saying: + +"'Brother, you are, after all, a better and a wiser man than I am, +for if I was wicked to you, it was only out of sheer wantonness.' + +"Then he plied him, not with warm water, but with sparkling wine and +strong _slivovitz_, and sent him home jolly drunk. From that time he +mended his ways, gave pence to the poor, presents to the _pop_, +candles and incense to the Church. Therefore, he was beloved by all +who knew him, his barns groaned again with the gifts of God, his +flocks and his herds increased by His blessings. + +"Now, tell me. If the insurance company had paid him for the damage +every time his barns had been burnt, would he have been happy with +his ill-gotten wealth? No; his heart might have been hardened, and +Satan at last have got possession of his soul." + +That evening Milena referred to her husband all that Stosija had said +to her. Radonic scowled at his wife, and then he grunted: + +"The _pop_--like all priests, in fact--is a drivelling old idiot; so +he had better mind his own business, that is, mumble his meaningless +prayers, and not meddle with what he doesn't understand." + +"What! is there anything a _pop_ doesn't understand?" asked Milena, +astonished. + +Radonic laughed. + +"Oh! he'll soon see something that'll make his jaw fall and his eyes +start from their sockets." + +"And what's that?" + +"A thing which you yourself won't believe in--a ship without masts." + +"And what are its sails tied to?" + +"It needs no sails; it has only a big chimney, a black funnel, that +sends forth clouds of smoke, flames and sparks; then, two tremendous +wheels that go about splashing and churning the water into a mass of +beautiful spray, with a thundering noise; then, every now and then, +it utters a shrill cry that is heard miles away." + +"Holy Virgin!" gasped Milena; "but it must be like Svet Gjorgje's +dragon!" + +"Oh!" sneered Radonic, "St. George's dragon was but a toy to it." + +"And where have you seen this monster?" + +"It isn't a monster at all; it's a steamer. I saw one on my last +voyage. It came from the other side of the world, from that country +where the sun at midday looks just like a burnished copper plate." + +"Of course," added Milena, nodding, "if it's on the other side of the +earth, they can only see the sun after it's set. But where is that +place of darkness? Is it Kitay?" + +"Oh, no! it's Englezka." + +"But to return to what the _pop_ said. Then it's true that you'll get +more money for your ship even than what it was worth?" + +"Whether I get more or whether I get less, I'm not going to keep all +the beggars of the town with the money the insurance company will +give me. If sailors don't want their wives to go begging and their +brats to starve, they can insure their lives, or not get married. As +for Stosija, you can tell her to go to the _pop_, and not come +bothering here; though I doubt whether a priest will even say a +prayer for you without the sight of your money. Anyhow, to-morrow I +start for Cattaro, where I hope to settle the insurance business." + +On the morrow Radonic went off, and Milena heaved a deep sigh of +relief; for, although the utter loneliness in which she lived was at +times unbearable to her, still it was better than her husband's +unkindness. + +Alas! no sooner had Radonic started than Vranic came with his odious +solicitations, for nothing would discourage that man. In her +innocence she could rely on her strength, so she had spurned him from +her. She had till then never been afraid of any man. Was she not a +Montenegrin? She had, in many a skirmish, not only loaded her +father's guns, but also fired at the Turks herself; nor had she ever +missed her man. Still, since that fateful night all her courage was +gone. Was Vranic not a seer, a man who could peer into his fellow +creatures as if they were crystal? Did he not know that she had +sinned? He had told her that all her struggles were unavailing; she +was like the swallow when the snake fascinates it. She, therefore, +had been cowed down to such a degree that she almost felt herself +falling into his clutches. + +Not knowing what to do, she had gone to Mara, and had confessed part +of her troubles to her; she had asked her for help against Vranic. +Although Uros' mother did not dabble in witchcraft, still she was a +woman with great experience. So she thought for a while, and then she +gave Milena a tiny bit of red stuff, and told her to wear it under +her left arm-pit; it was the most powerful spell she knew of, and +people could not harm her as long as she wore it. She followed Mara's +advice; but Vranic was a seer, and such simples were powerless +against him. + +Radonic came back from Cattaro, and, by his humour, things must have +gone on well for him; still, strange to say, he brought no money back +with him. He only said he had put his money in a bank, so that he +might get interest for it, till such times when he should buy another +ship. + +"And what is a bank?" asked Milena, astonished. + +Radonic shrugged his shoulders, and answered peevishly, that she was +too stupid to understand such things. "Montenegrins," he added, "have +no banks, nor any money to put in banks; they only know how to fight +against the Turks." + +For a few days Milena asked all her acquaintances what a bank was, +and at last she was informed that it was like insurances, one of +those modern inventions made to enrich the rich. Putting money in a +bank was like sinking a deep well. After that you were not only +supplied for your lifetime, but your children and the children of +your children were then provided for; for who can drink the water of +a well and dry it up? + +For Milena, all these things were wonders which she could not +understand. She only sighed, and thought that Stosija was right when +she had said to her that this world was for the wealthy; the poor +were nowhere, not even in church. + +Although Radonic had come back, still Vranic, far from desisting from +his suit, became always more pressing; for he seemed quite sure that +she would never speak to her husband against him. Once more she went +to Mara and asked her for advice. + +"Why not mention the subject to your husband?" asked her friend. + +"First, I dare not; then, it would be quite useless. He would not +believe me; Vranic has him entirely under his power. In fact, I am +quite sure if Radonic is unbearable, it is the seer who sets him on +to bait me." + +"But to what purpose?" + +"Because he thinks that, sooner or later, I'll be driven to despair, +and find myself at his mercy. Though I'm no seer myself, still I see +through him." + +Withal Uros' mother was a woman of great experience, still, she could +not help her friend; she only comforted her in a motherly way, and +her heart yearned for her. + +As Milena, weary and dejected, was slowly trudging homewards, she +saw, not far from her house, a small animal leisurely crossing a +field. Was it a cat? She stood stock-still for a moment and stared. +Surely, it was neither a hare, nor a rabbit, nor a dog. It was a big, +dark-coloured cat! How her heart began to beat at that sight! + +At that moment she forgot that it was almost dusk, that the days were +still short, that the light was vanishing fast. She forgot that it +would be very disagreeable meeting Vranic--always lurking +thereabout--that her husband would soon be coming home. In fact, +forgetting everything and everybody, she began running after the cat, +which scampered off the moment it saw her. Still, the quicker the cat +ran, the quicker Milena went after it. + +Of course, she knew quite well, as you and I would have known, that +the cat was no cat at all, for real pussies are quiet, home-loving +pets, taking, at most, a stroll on the pantiles, but never go roaming +about the fields as dogs are sometimes apt to do. + +That cat, of course, was a witch--not a simple _baornitza_, but a +real sorceress, able to do whatever she chose to put her hand to. + +The nimble cat ran with the speed of a stone hurled from a sling, and +Milena, panting, breathless, stumbling every now and then, ran after +it with all her might. Several times the fleet-footed animal +disappeared; still, she was not disheartened, but ran on and came in +sight of it after some time. At last, she saw the cat run straight +towards a distant cottage. Milena slackened her speed, then she +stopped to look round. + +The cottage was built on a low muddy beach. She remembered having +been in that lonely spot once before with Uros; she had seen the +strand all covered with bloated bluish medusas, melting away in the +sun. + +With a beating heart and quivering limbs Milena stopped on the +threshold of the hut, and looked about her for the cat. The door was +ajar; perhaps it had gone in. For a moment she hesitated whether she +should turn on her heels and run off or enter. + +A powerful witch like that could, all at once, assume the most +horrible shape, and frighten her out of her wits! + +As she stood there, undecided as to what she was to do, the door +opened, as if by a sudden blast of wind, and there was no time to +retreat. Milena then, to her surprise, saw an old woman standing in +the middle of the hut. She was quietly breaking sticks and putting +them on a smouldering fire. As for the cat, it was, of course, +nowhere to be seen. + +The old woman, almost bent double by age, turned, and seeing Milena, +smiled. Her face did not express the slightest fear or ill-humour, +nay, she seemed as if she had been expecting her. + +"Good evening, _domlada_," said the old woman, with a most winning +voice, "have you lost your way, or is there anything you want of me?" + +Milena hesitated; had she been spoken to in a rough, disagreeable +manner, she would, doubtless, have been daunted by the thought that +she was putting her soul in jeopardy by having recourse to the witch; +but the woman's voice was so soft and soothing, her words so +encouraging, her ways so motherly, that, getting over her +nervousness, she went in at once, and, almost without knowing it, she +found herself induced to relate all her troubles to this utter +stranger. + +"First, if you want me to help you," said the old woman, "you must +try and help yourself." + +"And how so?" + +"By thinking as little as possible of a handsome youth who is now at +sea." + +Milena blushed. + +"Then you must bear your husband's ill-humour, even his blows, +patiently, and, little by little, get him to understand what kind of +a man Vranic is. Radonic is in love with you; therefore, 'the sack +cannot remain without the twine.' You must not fear Vranic; 'the +place of the uninvited guest is, you know, behind the door.' +Moreover, to protect you against him, I'll give you a most powerful +charm." + +Saying this, she went to a large wooden chest and got out of it a +little bag, which she handed to Milena. + +"In it," whispered the old woman, mysteriously, "there is some hair +of a wolf that has tasted human flesh, the claw of a rabid old cat, a +tiny bit of a murdered man's skull, a few leaflets of rue gathered on +St. John's Night under a gibbet, and some other things. It is a +potent spell; still, efficient as it is, you must help it in its +work." + +Milena promised the old woman to be guided entirely by her advice. + +"Remember never to give way to Vranic in the least, for, even with my +charm, if you listen to him you might become his prey. You must not +do like the dove did." + +"And what did the dove do?" + +"What! don't you know? Well, sit down there, and I'll tell you." + +"But I'm afraid I'll be troubling you." + +"Not at all; besides, I'll prepare my soup while I chat." + +"Still, I'm afraid my husband might get home and not find me; then----" + +"Then you'll keep him a little longer at the inn." + +Saying these words, the witch threw some vegetables in the pot +simmering on the hob, and on the fire something like a pinch of salt, +for at once the wood began to splutter and crackle; after that, she +went to the door and looked out. + +"See how it pours!" said she. "Radonic will have to wait till the +rain is over." + +Milena shuddered and crossed herself; she was more than ever +convinced that the old woman was a mighty sorceress who had command +over the wind and the rain. + +"Well," began the _stari-mati_, "once a beautiful white dove had +built her nest in a large tree; she laid several eggs, hatched them, +and had as many lovely dovelets. One day, a sly old fox, passing +underneath, began leering at the dove from the corner of his eye, as +old men ogle pretty girls at windows. The dove got uneasy. Thereupon, +the fox ordered the bird to throw down one of her young ones. 'If you +don't, I swear by my whiskers to climb up the tree and gobble you +down, you ----, and all your young ones.' + +"The poor dove was in sore trouble, and, quaking with fear, seeing the +fox lay its front paws on the trunk of the tree, she, flurried as she +was, caught one of her little ones by its neck and threw it down. The +fox made but a mouthful of it, grumbling withal that it was such a +meagre morsel. + +"'Mind and fatten those that are left, for I'll call again to-morrow, +and if the others are only skin and bones, as the little scarecrow +you've thrown me down is, you'll have, at least, to give me two.' + +"The fox went off. The poor dove remained in her nest, mourning over +her lost little one, and shuddering as she thought of the morrow. +Just then another bird happened to perch above the branch where the +dove had her nest. + +"'I say, dove,' said the other bird, 'what's up, that you are cooing +in such a dreary, disconsolate way?' + +"The dove thereupon related all that had happened. + +"'Oh, you simpleton! oh, you fool!' quoth the other bird, 'how could +you have been so silly as to believe the sly old fox? You ought to +have known that foxes cannot climb trees; therefore, when he comes +to-morrow, ordering you to throw him down a couple of your little +ones, just you tell him to come up himself and get them.' + +"The day after, when the fox came for his meal, the dove simply +answered: + +"'Don't you wish you may get it!' + +"And the dove laughed in her sleeve to see the fox look so sheepish. + +"'Who told you that?' said Reynard; 'you never thought of it +yourself, you are too stupid.' + +"'No,' quoth the dove, 'I did not. The bird that has built her nest +by the sedges near the river told it me.' + +"'So,' said the fox; and he turned round and went off to the bird +that had built her nest by the river sedges, without even saying +ta-ta to the dove. He soon found her out. + +"'I say, bird, what made you build your nest in such a breezy spot?' +said the fox, with a twinkling eye. + +"'Oh! I don't mind the wind,' said the bird. 'For instance, when it +blows from the north-east, I put my head under my left wing, like +this." + +"Thereupon, the bird put its head under its left wing, and peeped at +the fox with its right eye. + +"'And when it blows from the south-west?' asked the fox. + +"'Then I do the contrary.' + +"And the bird put its head under its right wing, and peeped at the +fox with its left eye. + +"'And when it blows from every side of the compass at once?' + +"'It never does,' said the bird, laughing. + +"'Yes it does; in a hurricane.' + +"'Then I cover my head with both my wings, like this.' + +"No sooner had the poor bird buried her head under both her wings, +than the sly old fox jumped at her, and ate her up. + +"But," said the witch, finishing her story, "if you are like the +dove, I'm not like the bird of the sedges; and Vranic would find me +rather tough to eat me up. And now, hurry home, my dear; if ever you +want me again, you know where to find me." + +The rain had ceased, and Milena, thanking the old woman for her +kindness, went off. She had been back but a few minutes when Radonic +returned home, ever so much the worse for drink. Not finding any +supper ready, he at first began to grumble; then, little by little, +thinking himself very ill-used, he got into a tremendous rage. Having +reached this paroxysm of wrath, he set to smash all the crockery that +he could lay his hands on, whilst Milena, terrified, went and shut +herself up in the next room, and peeped at him through the keyhole. + +When he had broken a sufficient number of plates and dishes, he felt +vexed at having vented his rage in such a foolish way, then to pity +himself at having such a worthless wife, who left him without supper, +and growing sentimental, he began to groan and hiccough and curse, +till he at last rolled off the stool on which he had been rocking +himself, and went to sleep on the floor. + +On the morrow the husband was moody, the wife sad; neither of them +spoke or looked at the other. The whole of that day, Milena--in her +loneliness--revolved within her mind what she would do to get rid of +Vranic's importunities, and, above all, how she could prevent him +from harming Uros, as he had threatened to do. + +The day passed away slowly; in the evening Radonic came home more +drunk than he had ever been, therefore maliciously angry and +spiteful. + +The front room of the house, like that of almost all other cottages, +was a large but dark and dismal-looking chamber, pierced with several +small windows, all thickly grated; the ceiling was raftered, and +pieces of smoked mutton, wreaths of onions, bundles of herbs, and +other provisions dangled down from hooks, or nails, driven in nearly +every beam. As in all country-houses, the hearth was built in the +very midst of this room, and the smoke, curling upwards, found an +outlet from a hole in the roof. That evening, as it was pouring and +blowing, the gusts of wind and rain prevented the smoke from finding +its way out. + +Milena was seated on a three-legged stool at a corner of the hearth, +by a quaint, somewhat prehistoric, kind of earthenware one-wick +oil-lamp, which gave rather less light than our night-lamps usually +do, though it flickered and sputtered and smoked far more. She was +sewing a very tiny bit of a rag, but she took much pride in it, for +every now and then she looked at it with the fond eyes of a girl +sewing her doll's first bodice. Hearing her husband's step on the +shingle just outside, she started to her feet, thrust the rag away, +looking as if she had almost been caught doing something very guilty. +After that she began mixing the soup boiling in the pot with great +alacrity. + +Radonic was not a handsome man at the best of times, but now, +besotted by drink, shuffling and reeling, he was positively +loathsome. He stopped for a moment on the sill to look at his wife, +grinning at her in a half-savage, half-idiotic way. + +Milena shuddered when she saw him, and turned her eyes away. He +evidently noticed the look of horror she cast on him, for holding +himself to the door-post with one hand, he shook the other at her, in +his increasing anger. + +"What have you been doing all the day?--gadding about, or sitting on +the door-step to beckon to the youths who pass by?" he said, in a +thick, throaty voice, interrupted every now and then with a drunken +hiccough. Then he let go the door-post and shuffled in. + +"A fine creature, a very fine creature, a slut, a good-for-nothing +slut, not worth the salt she eats! You hear, madam? you hear, +darling? it's to you I'm speaking." + +Milena stood pale, awe-stricken, twisting the fringe of her apron +round her fingers, looking at him with amazement. It was certainly +not the first time in her life that she had seen a drunken man; +still, she had never known anyone so fiendish when tipsy. + +"A nice kind of woman for a fellow to marry," he went on, "a thing +that stands twisting her fingers from morning to night, but who +cannot find time to prepare a little supper for a hungry man, in the +evening." Then, with a grunt: "What have you been doing the whole of +the live-long day?" + +Milena did not answer. + +"I say, will you speak? by the Virgin, will you speak? or I'll slap +that stupid sallow face of yours till I make it red with your blood." + +Milena did try to answer, but the words stuck in her throat and would +not come out. Radonic thought she was defying him. + +"Ah, you'll not answer! You were fooling about the town, or sitting +at the window eating pumpkin seeds, waiting for the dogs that pass to +admire those meaningless eyes of yours. They are dark, it's true, but +I'll make them ten times darker." + +Thereupon he made a rush at her, but, swift-footed as she was, she +ran on the opposite side of the room. She glanced at the door, but he +had shut and bolted it, therefore--being afraid that he might be upon +her before she managed to open it--she only kept running round the +hearth, waiting till chance afforded her some better way of escape. + +He ran after her for some time, but, drunk and asthmatic as he was, +he stopped at last, irritated by his non-success. Vexed at seeing a +faint smile on her lips, he took up a plate, that had been spared +from the day before, and shied it at her. She was too quick for him, +for she deftly moved aside, and the plate was smashed against an +oaken press. + +He gnashed his teeth with rage and showed her his fists; then he bent +down, picked up a log, and flourished it wildly about. She at once +made for the door. He flung the piece of wood at her with all his +might. She once more stooped to avoid it, but, in her eagerness to +get out, she was this time rather flurried; moreover, the missile +hurled at her was, this time, much bigger than the former one, so +that the log just caught her at the back of her head. She uttered a +shrill cry, and fell on the ground in a death-like swoon. + +Radonic, seeing Milena fall, thought he had killed her. He felt at +that moment such a terrible fright that it seemed to him as if a +thunderbolt had come down upon him. + +He grew deathly pale, his jaw fell, he began to tremble from head to +foot, just as when he had a fit of the ague. His teeth chattered, his +knees were broken, his joints relaxed. He had never in his whole life +felt such a fright. In a moment his drunkenness seemed to vanish, and +he was again in his senses. + +"Milena," said he, in a faint, quivering, moaning tone. "Milena, my +love!" + +She did not answer, she did not move; to all appearance she was dead. + +The muscles of his throat were twitching in such a way that he almost +fancied someone had stabbed him through the neck. + +Was she now worth her salt to him? he asked himself bitterly; aye, he +would give all his money to bring her back to life if he only could. + +He wanted to go up to her, but his feet seemed rooted to the spot +where he stood; with widely opened eyes he stared at the figure lying +motionless on the floor. Was the blood trickling from her head? A +moment afterwards he was kneeling down by her side, lifting her up +tenderly; for, brute as he was, he loved her. + +She was not dead, for her heart was beating still. Her head was +bleeding; but the cut was very slight, hardly skin deep. He began to +bathe her face with water, and tried to recall her to her senses. +Still her fainting-fit, owing, perhaps, to the state of her health, +lasted for some time; and those moments of torture seemed for him +everlasting. + +At last Milena opened her eyes; and seeing her husband's face bent +close upon hers, she shuddered, and tried to free herself from his +arms. + +"_Ljuba_," said Radonic, "forgive me. I was a brute; but I didn't +mean to harm you." + +"It's a pity you didn't kill me; then there would have been an end to +this wretched life of mine." + +"Do you hate me so very much?" + +"Have I any reason to love you?" + +"Forgive me, my love. I've been drinking to-night; and when the wine +gets to my head, then I know I'm nasty." + +"No, you hate me, and I know why." + +"Why?" + +"Vranic sets you against me; and when your anger is roused, and your +brain muddled, you come and want to kill me." + +Radonic did not reply. + +"But rather than torture me as you do, kill me at once, to please +your friend." + +Milena stopped for an instant; then she began again, in a lower tone: + +"And that man is doubtless there, behind that door, listening to all +that has happened." + +Radonic ground his teeth, clenched his fists, snorted like a +high-mettled horse, started up, and would have rushed to the door had +Milena not prevented him. + +"No," said she, "do not be so rash. Abide your time; catch him on the +hip." + +"Why does he hate you?" + +"Can't you guess? Did he not want to marry me?" + +Radonic groaned. + +"Oh! it would not be a difficult matter to turn Vranic into a friend; +but I prefer being beaten by you than touched by that fiend." + +Radonic started like a mad bull; and, not knowing what to do, he gave +the table such a mighty thump that he nearly shivered it. + +"Listen! Yesterday, when you had rolled on the floor, and were +sleeping away your drunken rage----" + +"Then?" + +"I went to sit on the doorstep----" + +"Well, go on." + +"A moment afterwards Vranic was standing in front of me." + +The husband's eyes flashed with rage. + +"Knowing that you would not wake, he begged me to let him come in. He +saw me wretched and forlorn; he would comfort me." + +"You lie!" He hissed these words out through his set teeth, and +caught hold of her neck to throttle her. Then, all at once, he turned +his mad rage against himself, and thumped his head with all his +strength, exclaiming: + +"Fool, fool, fool that I am!" Then, after a short silence, and with a +sullen look: "And you, what did you do?" + +"I got up, came in, and slammed the door in his face." + +Radonic caught his wife in his arms, and kissed her. + +"Tell me one thing more. Where were you yesterday evening?" + +She smiled. + +"Where do you think I was? Well, I'll tell you, because you'll never +guess. I was at the witch's, who lives down there by the sea shore." + +"What for?" + +"Because I'm tired of this life. I went to ask her for a charm +against your bosom friend." + +"And what can a foolish old woman do for you?" said the husband, +trying to put on a sceptical look. + +"I have not been all over the world as you have; still, I know that +our blood also is red." + +"And what did the _baornitza_ tell you?" + +"That a flowing beard is but a vain ornament when the head is light." + +Radonic shrugged his shoulders and tried not to wince. + +"Besides, she gave me this charm;" and showing him her amulet, she +begged him to wear it for a few days. "It will not do you any harm; +wear it for my sake, even if you don't believe in it," she pleaded +softly. + +Radonic yielded, and allowed Milena to fasten the little bag round +his neck, looking deep into her beautiful eyes uplifted towards his. +She blushed, feeling the fire of his glances. + +"And now," added she, with a sigh of relief, "he'll break his viper's +fangs against that bone, if our proverbs are true." + +Radonic tried to keep up his character of an _esprit-fort_, and said: +"Humbug!" but there was a catch in his voice as he uttered this word. + +"Now, I feel sure that as long as you have this talisman you'll not +open your mouth or reveal a single word of what I've told you." + +"Whom do you take me for?" + +"Yes, but at times our very eyes deceive us; moreover, Vranic is a +man to whom everybody is like glass. He reads your innermost +thoughts." + +"He is sharp; nothing more, I tell you." + +"Anyhow, that is a powerful charm, and if you'll only dissimulate----" + +"Oh! I can be a match for him if I like." + +"You must promise me one thing more." + +"What is it?" + +"No knives; no bloodshed." + +Radonic did not answer for a moment, but cast on Milena an angry +look, his hand seeking the handle of his knife. + +"Will you promise?" + +"Are you so fond of him that you are frightened I'll kill him?" + +"I hate him." + +"Then----" + +"Still, it is no reason to murder him." + +Radonic seemed lost in his own thoughts. + +"Moreover, he is weak and puny, whilst you are made of iron." She +laid her hand on his shoulder. "No knives, then; it's understood?" + +"I promise to use no knife." + +The morrow was a beautiful day; winter seemed already to be waking +from its short sleep. The sun was shining brightly, and as the breeze +was fresh and bracing, his cheerful warmth was pleasant, especially +for people who have to depend upon his rays for their only heat. +Spring seemed already to be at hand, and, in fact, the first violets +and primroses might have been seen glinting in sunny spots. + +Milena was returning from market, and her eyes were wandering far on +the wide expanse of glittering blue waters, but her thoughts, like +fleet halcyons, dived far away into the hazy distance, unfathomable +to the sight itself, and she hummed to herself the following song: + + "A crystal rill I fain would be, + And down the deep dell then I'd go; + Close to his cottage I would flow. + Thus every morn my love I'd see, + Oft to his lips I might be pressed, + And nestle close unto his breast." + +Then she sighed and tried not to think, for hers, indeed, was forlorn +hope. + +All at once she heard someone walking behind her, coming nearer and +nearer. She hastened her steps; still, the person who followed her +walked on quicker. + +"What a hurry you are in, Milena," said Vranic, coming up to her. + +"Oh! is it you?" she replied, with feigned surprise; then she +shuddered, thinking that she had not her amulet, and was at the mercy +of this artful man. "You frightened me." + +"Dear me, I'm afraid I'm always frightening you! Still, believe me, +I'd give my soul to the devil for one of your smiles, for a good word +from you, Milena." + +She shrugged her shoulders. + +"Children are deceived with cakes, women with sweet words, they say." + +He cast a sidelong glance at her. + +"You don't look well, to-day; you are pale." + +"Am I?" + +"Yes; what's the matter?" + +"How can I look well, with that brute of a husband of mine?" + +"Ah, yes! he got home rather the worse for drink yesterday evening, +didn't he?" + +"You ought to know; you were with him." + +"Well, yes, I was; at least, part of the evening." + +"And when he was as mad as a wild bull, you sent him home to me, +didn't you?" + +"I?" + +"Vranic, when will you finish persecuting me? What have I done to +you?" + +"Milena, it is true I am bad; but is it my fault? has not the world +made me what I am? Why have I not a right to my share of happiness as +other men?" + +"I am sorry for you, Vranic, but what can I do for you?" + +"You can do whatever you like with me, make me as good as a lamb." + +"How?" + +"Have pity on me; I love you!" + +"How can you say you love me, when you have tried to harm me in every +possible way?" + +"I was jealous; besides, I saw that you hated me, therefore you know +it was my only chance of success. In love and in war all means are +good." + +She shuddered; still, she managed to master herself and hide the +loathing she felt for him. + +"So you thought that, after having driven me to distraction----" + +"I should be your friend in need." + +"Fine friend." Then after a pause: "Anyhow, my present life is such +that, rather than bear it any longer, I'll go and drown myself some +day or other." + +"You'd never do that, Milena." + +"Why not? Therefore, if you care for me ever so little, use your +influence over Radonic, undo your work, get him to be a little less +of a brute than he has been of late." + +"And then you'll laugh at me?" + +"Who does good can expect better," and she tried to look at him less +harshly than she was wont to do, and did not turn her eyes away from +him. + +"No, Milena, first----" + +"What! first the pay, then the work? It would be against the +proverb." + +"Then promise me at least that you will try to love me a little?" + +"No," said she, with a toss of her pretty head, and a smile in her +mischievous, sparkling eyes; "I promise nothing." + +He thereupon took her hand and kissed it, saying: + +"I am making a poor bargain, for I am sure that your heart is empty." + +"If you cannot manage to awaken love in an empty heart, it will be +your fault; besides, you can always be in time to undo your work." + +"How so?" + +"You have me in your power, for Radonic, in your hands, is as pliable +as putty, is he not?" + +"Perhaps!" and the wrinkles of his cheeks deepened into a grim smile. + +"Then let my husband come home a little less cross than he has been +of late, will you?" she said, in a coaxing tone, and her voice had +for him all the sweetness of the nightingale's trill. + +"I'll try," and his blinking, grey-green eyes gloated upon her, +whilst that horrible cast in them made her shiver and feel sick; but +then she thought of Uros, and the idea that his life might be in +danger by the power this man wielded over her husband made her +conceal her real state of feelings and smile upon him pleasantly. + +He put his arm round her waist, and whispered words of love into her +ear, words that seemed to sink deep into her flesh and blister her; +and she felt like a bird, covered over with slime by a snake, before +being swallowed up. + +He, at that moment--withal he was a seer--fancied Milena falling in +his arms; his persevering love had conquered at last. Radonic would +now be sent away to sea again, perhaps never to come back, and he +would remain the undisputed master of Milena's heart. + +"Well, love me a little and I'll change your life from a hell into a +heaven. I'll read your slightest wish in your eyes to satisfy it." + +"Thank you," she said, shuddering, disengaging herself from his +grasp, but feeling herself growing pale. + +"What is the matter, my love?" he asked. + +"Nothing, only I told you I was not feeling well; my husband almost +killed me yesterday." + +"Well, I promise that it'll be the last time he touches you." + +They had now reached the door of her house, and Vranic, after having +renewed his protestations, went off, whilst Milena entered the house +and locked herself in. + +That evening Radonic came home rather earlier than usual. He was +sober, but in a sullen mood, and looked at Milena sheepishly. She set +the supper on the table and waited upon him; when he had finished, +she took the dish and sat down on the hearth to have her meal. + +"Well," quoth Radonic, puffing at his pipe, "have you seen Vranic +to-day?" + +"Yes, I met him when I was coming home from market." + +"Henceforth," said he, "I forbid you going to market again." + +"Very well," said she, meekly. + +"And?" + +"He accompanied me home." + +"And what did he say?" + +"That you were pulpy, therefore he could do with you whatever he +liked." + +"Ah! he said that, did he?" and in his rage Radonic broke his pipe. +"Then?" + +"He would first undo his work, make you as gentle as a lamb, then he +would send you off to sea, and----" + +Radonic muttered a fearful oath between his teeth. + +"Can't you understand? Has he not spoken well of me?" + +"He has, the villain, and it wanted all my patience not to clutch him +by the neck and pluck his vile tongue out of his mouth--but I'll bide +my time." + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +MURDER + + +A few days afterwards Milena heard a low whistle outside, just as if +someone were calling her; the whistling was repeated again and again. +She went to the open door, and she saw Vranic at a distance, +apparently on the watch for her. As soon as he saw her, he beckoned +to her to come out. She stepped on the threshold, and he came up to +her. + +"Good news, eh?" said he. + +"What news?" + +"Has Radonic not opened his mouth to you?" + +"He has hardly said a single word all these days." + +"Impossible!" + +"May I be struck blind if he has!" + +"Strange." + +"Well, but what is it all about?" + +"He told me it was a great secret; still, I did not believe him." + +"But what is this great secret?" + +"He is going off to Montenegro for a day or two, as he has to buy a +cargo of _castradina_. Of course, he'll stay a week; and as soon as +he comes back, he'll start at once on a long voyage." + +"I don't believe it!" + +"Yes, he is; and it's all my own doing. Now you can't say that I +don't love you, Milena, can you?" + +She did not give him any answer. + +"You don't seem glad. Once you'd have been delighted to have a +reprieve from his ill-treatment." + +"Yes, but now he's only moody. He hasn't beaten me for some days." + +"I told you he was as manageable as putty. Like all bullies, you can +shave him without a razor, if you only know how to go about it." + +"Yes; only beware. Such men never keep shape--at least, not for any +length of time." + +"He'll keep shape till he goes, for that's to-morrow; then----" and he +winked at her as he said this. + +"Come, Vranic, be kind for once in your life." + +"Has anybody ever been kind to me?" + +"'Do good, and don't repent having done it; do evil, and expect +evil,' says the proverb." + +"I never do anything for nothing; so to-morrow night I'll come for my +reward." + +"Leave me alone, Vranic; if not for my sake, do it for your own good. +Fancy, if Radonic were to return. Surely you wouldn't shave him quite +as easily as you think." + +"I'll take the risk upon myself. I have lulled all his suspicions, so +that he has now implicit trust in you. Besides, I'll first see him +well out of the town with my own eyes; Vranic is not a seer for +nothing," and he winked knowingly with his blinking eyes. + +"You don't know Radonic: if you are a fox, he is no goose. He is +capable of coming back just to see what I am doing." + +"I think I know him a little better than you do, and a longer time. +We have been friends from childhood; in fact, all but _pobratim_." + +"That's the reason why you are ready to deceive him, then?" + +"What business had he to marry you? What would I not do for your +love, Milena? Why, I'd give my soul to Satan, if he wanted it." + +"I'm afraid it's no longer yours to give away. But come, Vranic, if +you really are as fond of me as you pretend to be, have some pity on +me, be kind; think how wretched my whole life has hitherto been, +leave me alone, forget me." + +"Ask me anything else but that. How can I forget you? How can I +cease loving you, when I live only for you? I only see through your +eyes." + +"Then I'll ask Radonic to take me to Montenegro with him, and I'll +remain with my family." + +"And I'll follow you there. You don't understand all the strength of +my love for you." + +Thereupon, forgetting his usual prudence, he stepped up to her, and +passing his arm round her waist, he strained her to his breast, and +wanted to kiss her. She wriggled and struggled, and tried to push him +away. + +"Unhand me," she said, alarmed; "unhand me at once, or I'll scream." + +"Lot of good it'll do you. Come," he replied, "remember your promise. +I've kept my part, try and keep yours with good grace or----" + +"What?" she asked, alarmed. + +"Or by the holy Virgin, it'll be so much the worse for you! I know----" +he stopped, and then he added: "In fact, I know what I know. +Remember, therefore, it is much better to have Vranic for your friend +than for your foe." + +"Mind, you think me a dove." + +"I only know that women have long hair and little brains. Try and not +be like most of them." + +"Mind, I might for once have more brains than you; therefore, I +entreat you, nay, I command you, not to try and see me to-morrow." + +"As for that, I'll use my own discretion." + +Saying these words, he went off, and left Milena alone. As soon as he +had disappeared, she went in, and sank down on the hearth; there, +leaning her elbows on her knees, she hid her face between her palms; +then she began nursing her grief. + +"They say I am happy," she muttered to herself, "because I am rich +--though I have not a penny that I can call my own--because I can eat +white bread every day. Yet would it not be better by far to be an +animal and graze in the fields, than eat bread moistened with my own +tears? Oh! why was I not born a man? Then, at least, I might have +gone where I liked--done what I pleased. + +"They think I am happy, because no one knows what my life has been; +though, it is true, what is a woman's life amongst us? + +"She toils in the field the whole of the live-long day, whilst her +husband smokes his pipe. She is laden like a beast of burden; she is +yoked to the plough with an ox or an ass, and when they go to pasture +she trudges home with the harness, to nurse the children or attend to +household work. Meanwhile, her master leisurely chats with his +friends at the inns, or listens to the _guzlar_. + +"What is her food? The husks that dogs cannot eat, the bones which +have already been picked. If Turkish women have no souls, they, at +least, are not treated like beasts during their lifetime. + +"Oh! holy Virgin, why was I not born a man?" + +That evening Radonic came home more sullen and peevish than usual; +still, he was sober. He sat down to supper, and Milena waited upon +him. As soon as he had pushed his plate away: + +"Have you seen Vranic to-day?" he asked, gruffly. + +"I have," answered the wife, meekly. + +"Ah, you have!" and he uttered a fearful oath. + +Milena crossed herself. + +"And where have you seen him?" + +"He came here at the door." + +"May he have a fit to-night," he grunted. Then, after a puff at his +pipe: "And what did he say?" + +"That you intended starting to-morrow morning for Montenegro, to buy +_castradina_, and----" + +Radonic gave such a mighty thump on the table that the _bukara_ was +upset. It rolled and fell to the ground before it could be caught. +Milena hastened to pick it up, but the wine was spilt. The husband +thereupon, not knowing how to vent his spite, gave a kick to the poor +woman just as she stooped to pick it up. She slipped and fell +sprawling to the ground, uttering a stifled groan. Then she got up, +deathly pale, and went to sit down in a corner of the room, and began +to cry unperceived. + +"And what did you answer when he told you that I was starting?" + +"I begged him to leave me in peace, and above all not to come +to-morrow evening, if his life was dear to him." + +"Ah! you begged him, did you? Well, if ever man was blessed with a +foolish wife, I am." + +A moment's silence followed, after which he added: + +"What a fool a man is who gets married--above all, a sailor who takes +as his wife a feather-brained creature, as you are. May God hurl a +thunderbolt at me if I'd marry again were I but free." + +Poor Milena did not reply, for she was inured to such taunts, Radonic +being one of those men who pride themselves on speaking out their own +minds. She kept crying quietly--not for the pain she felt, but +because she dreaded the fatal consequences of the kick she had just +received. + +"Will you stop whimpering, or I'll come and give you something to cry +for. It's really beyond all powers of endurance to hear a woman whine +and a pig squeak; if there is a thing that drives me mad, it's that." + +Thereupon Radonic began to puff at his pipe savagely, snarling and +snorting as he smoked. + +"And may I ask why you begged that double-faced, white-livered friend +of yours not to come to-morrow evening?" he asked, after some +minutes. + +"Vranic was never a friend of mine," said Milena, proudly. + +"Admitting he wasn't, still you haven't answered my question; but I +suppose it doesn't suit you to answer, does it?" + +"Why not? I begged him not to come because I was afraid some mischief +might ensue, withal you promised me not to be rash." + +"I promised you, did I? Anyhow, I find that you take a great interest +in this friend of mine, far more than it becomes an honest woman." +Then, with a scowl and a sneer: "If you _are_ honest." + +Milena winced, and grew deathly pale. She did not give her husband +any answer, so he, after grunting and grumbling and smoking for some +time, got up and went to bed. She, however, remained where she was +seated--or rather crouched--for she knew that she could not sleep. + +How could she sleep? + +First, she was not feeling well. The kick she had received in her +side had produced a slight, dull, gnawing soreness; moreover, she +felt--or at least she fancied she could feel--a gnawing pain; it was +not much of a pain, only it seemed as if a watch were ticking there +within her. She shuddered and felt sick, a cold sweat gathered on her +brow, and she trembled from head to foot. + +Some women in her state--she had heard--never got over the +consequences of a blow; perhaps the kick might produce mortification, +and then in a few days she would die. Yes, she felt as if she had +received an inward incurable bruise. Well, after all, it was but +right; she had deceived her husband; he had revenged himself. Now +they were quits. + +Still tears started to her eyes, and sobs rose to her throat. + +Well, after all, she thought, what did it matter if she died? This +wretched life would be over. + +Only---- + +Only what? + +Yes, she avowed it to herself; she longed to see Uros' fond face once +more before dying. With her hand locked in his, her eyes gazing upon +him, death would have almost been bliss. + +With a repressed and painful yearning, her lover's name at last +escaped her lips. + +Radonic, who had been snoring as if he was about to suffocate, +uttered a kind of snorting sound, then he started and woke with a +fearful curse on his lips. + +Milena, shuddering, uttered a half-stifled cry. + +"What is the matter?" she asked. + +"Nothing, I was only dreaming. I thought that a young sailor, whom I +once crippled with a kick, had gripped me by my neck, and was choking +me." + +"It must have been the _morina_" (the nightmare) "sitting on you," +and Milena crossed herself. + +"How is it you are not in bed?" he asked, scowling. + +She did not speak for an instant. + +He started up to look at her. + +"Perhaps that villain is sneaking about the house, and you wish to +warn him?" + +"Your jealousy really drives you mad." + +"Well, then, will you speak? Why are you not yet in bed?" + +"I--I don't feel exactly well." + +"Why, what's the matter?" + +"The kick you gave me," she retorted, falteringly. + +"Why, I hardly touched you! well, you are getting mighty delicate; +you ought to have had the kick I gave that sailor lad, then you would +have known the strength of my foot!" + +"Yes, but----" She checked herself, and then added: "Women are +delicate." + +"Oh! so you are going to be a grand lady, and be delicate, are you? +Who ever heard of a Montenegrin being delicate?" Then he added: "If +you don't feel well, go to bed and try to sleep." + +Thereupon he turned on the other side, and began to snore very soon +afterwards. + +Milena began to think of what had been and might have been. + +She had sinned, foolishly, thoughtlessly; but since that fatal night +she had never known a single moment's happiness. As time passed, the +heinousness of her sin rose up before her, more dreadful, more +appalling. + +Still, was it the sin itself, or its dire consequences, that rendered +her so moody, so timorous? + +She never asked herself such a question; she only knew that she now +started, like a guilty thing, at the slightest noise, and she +shivered if anybody spoke to her abruptly. At times she fancied +everybody could read her guilt in her face. + +She had been more than once tempted, of late, to tell her husband +that, in some months, she would be a mother. Still, the words had +ever stuck in her throat; she could never nerve herself enough to +speak. + +Though he might probably never have got to know the real truth, could +she tell him that _he_ was the father of her child, or, at least, +allow him to think so? No, she could never do that, for it was +impossible to act that lie the whole of her life. Could she see her +husband, returning from a long voyage, take in his arms and fondle +the child that was not his, the child that he would strangle if he +knew whose it was? + +Although an infant is the real, nay, the only bond of married life, +still, the child of sin is a spectre ever rising 'twixt husband and +wife, estranging them from one another for ever. + +Then she had better confess her guilt at once. And bring about three +deaths? Aye, surely; Radonic was not a man to forgive. He had +crippled a sailor lad for some trifle. + +She must keep her secret a little longer--and then? + +Thereupon she fell on her knees before the silver-clad image of the +Virgin. + +"Oh, holy Virgin, help me! for to whom can I turn for help but to +thee? Help me, and I promise thee never to sin again, either by word +or action, all my life." And she kissed the icon devoutly. "Oh, holy +Virgin, help me! for thou canst do any miracle thou likest. Show +mercy upon me, and draw me from this sorrowful plight. I shall work +hard, and get thee, with my earnings, as huge a taper as money can +buy. + +"And thou, great St. George, who didst kill a dragon to save a maid, +save me from Vranic; and every year, upon thy holy day, I shall burn +incense and light a candle before thy picture, if thou wilt listen to +my prayer." + +After that, feeling somewhat comforted, she went to bed, and at last +managed to fall asleep, notwithstanding the pain she felt in her +side. + +On the morrow Radonic went away as usual, and Milena was left alone. +The day passed away slowly, gloomily. The weather was dull, sultry, +oppressive. The sirocco that blew every now and then in fitful, +silent gusts, was damp, stifling, heavy. A storm was brewing in the +air overhead, and all around there was a lull, as if anxious Nature +were waiting in sullen expectation for its outburst. The earth was +fretful; the sky as peevish as a human being crossed in his designs. +The hollow, rumbling noise in the clouds seemed the low grumbling of +contained anger. + +Everybody was more or less unsettled by the weather--Milena more than +anyone else. As the day passed her nervousness increased, and +solitude grew to be oppressive. + +Her husband, before leaving the house, had told her to go and spend +the evening at her kinswoman's, as a bee was to be held there; the +women spun, and the men prepared stakes for the vines. Bellacic was +fond of company, and he liked to have people with merry faces around +him, helping him to while away the long evening hours; nor did he +grudge a helping hand to others, whenever his neighbours had any kind +of work for him to do. + +"I'll come there and fetch you as soon as I've settled my business +with Vranic," said Radonic, going off. + +Milena, understanding that her husband wanted her out of the way, +decided upon remaining at home, and, possibly, preventing further +mischief. + +The day had been dark and gloomy from morning; the clouds heaped +overhead grew always blacker, and kept coming down lower and ever +lower. Early in the afternoon the light began to wane. Her uneasiness +increased at approaching night. With the gloaming her thoughts grew +dreary and dismal. She was afraid to remain at home; she was loth to +go away. Unable to work any longer, she went outside to sit on the +doorstep and spin. Now, at last, the rain began, and lurid flashes +were seen through the several heaps and masses of clouds. + +The lightning showed to her excited imagination not only numberless +witches, morine and goblins, chasing and racing after each other like +withered leaves in a storm, but in that horrid landscape she +perceived murderous battles, hurtling onslaughts, fearful frays and +bloodshed, followed by spaces that looked like fields of fire and +gory hills of trodden snow. It was too dreadful to look at, so she +turned round to go in. She would light the lamp and kindle the fire. +At a few steps from the threshold she heard, or, at least, she +fancied she heard, someone whistle outside. She stopped to listen. +Perhaps it was only the shrill sound of the wind through the leafless +bushes; for the wind has at times the knack of whistling like a +human being. + +She again advanced a step or two towards the hearth; and as she did +so, she stumbled on something. She uttered a low, muffled cry as she +almost fell. On what had her foot caught? She bent down, and felt +with her hand. It seemed like the corpse of a man stretched out at +full length--a human creature wallowing in his own blood. A sickening +sense of fear, a feeling of faintness, came over her. She hardly +dared to move. Her teeth were chattering; all her limbs were +trembling. Still, she managed to recover her self-possession, so as +to grope and put her hand on the steel and flint. Still, such was her +terror, that everything she touched assumed an uncouth, ungainly, +weird shape. Having found the steel, she managed to strike a light. +That faint glimmer dispelled her terror, and she asked herself how +she could have been so foolish as to take a coat lying on the floor +for a murdered man. + +The thing that puzzled her was how that coat came to be lying there +on the floor. It was her husband's old _kabanica_, and it must have +been left on some stool. + +As all these thoughts flitted through her mind, a loud crack was +heard--a jarring sound amidst the hushed stillness of the house. +Milena shuddered; a hand seemed to grip her throat. Her heart stopped +for a moment; then it began to throb and beat as if it were going to +burst. She gasped for breath. + +What was that ominous noise? The hoop of a tub had broken! + +To the uninitiated this might seem a trifle, but to those versed in +occult lore it was a fearful omen. Someone was to die in that house, +and this death was to happen soon, very soon; perhaps before +daybreak. + +She was so scared that she could not remain a moment longer in that +house; so, wrapping herself up in her husband's old coat, she +hastened out of the house. Just then Uros' last words sounded in her +ears: + +"If you are alone and in trouble, go to my mother; she will not only +be a friend to you, but love you as a daughter for my sake." + +Her husband that morning had sent her to Mara's; she could not remain +alone any longer; it was _Kismet_ that she should go. Besides, Vranic +might be coming now at any moment, and even if she swore to him that +her husband had not started, he would not believe her; then she would +only excite her husband to greater wrath if he came and found him +alone with her. No, on the whole, it was better by far to obey her +husband's behest; therefore, she started off. She ran quickly through +the pouring rain, and never stopped till she was at Bellacic's door. + +"Oh! Milena, is it you?" said Mara, her motherly eyes twinkling with +a bright smile of welcome; "though, to tell you the real truth, I +almost expected you." + +"Why?" + +"Because a big fly has been buzzing round me, telling me that some +person who is fond of me would come and see me. Oracles are always +true; besides," added she, with a smile and a sly look, "just guess +of what I've been dreaming?" + +"Of black grapes, that bring good luck, I suppose." + +"No, of doves; so I'll surely get a letter from Uros to-morrow or the +day after." + +Milena looked down demurely; she blushed; then, to turn away the +conversation, she added: + +"To-day, for a wonder, Radonic has sent me to pass the evening with +you; he'll come to fetch me later on--at least, he said he would." + +"It is a wonder, indeed--why, what's come over him? He must have put +on his coat inside out when he got up." + +Milena thereupon told her friend why her husband did not want her at +home. + +"Anyhow, I'm very glad you've come, for I'm embroidering two +waistcoats--one for Uros, the other for Milenko--and my poor eyes are +getting rather weak, so you can help me a little with the fine +stitching." + +"Radonic told me that some of your neighbours are coming to make +stakes." + +"Are they? My husband did not say anything about it." + +After some time, Markovic and his wife, and several other neighbours, +made their appearance. + +As every man came in, he greeted Milena, and, seeing her alone, asked +her where Radonic was. She, like a true Montenegrin, warded off the +question by answering with a shrug of her shoulders and in an +off-hand way: + +"May the devil take him, if I know where he is. I daresay he'll pop +up by-and-bye." + +Etiquette not only requires a wife to avoid speaking of her husband, +but also to eschew him completely when present, just as more northern +people ignore entirely the name of certain indispensable articles of +clothing. + +When all the guests were assembled, and such dainties as roasted +Indian-corn, melon, pumpkin and sun-flower seeds were handed round, +together with filberts and walnuts, then the bard (the honoured +guest) was begged to sing them a song. The improvisatore, stroking +his long moustache and twisting its ends upwards that they might not +be too much in his way as he spoke, took down his _guzla_ and began +to scrape it by way of prelude. This was not, as amongst us, a sign +to begin whispered conversation in out of the way corners, or to +strike an attitude of bored sentimentality, for everybody listened +now with rapt attention. + + +THE FAITHLESS WIFE. + + When Gjuro was about to start for war, + And leave his wife alone within his hall, + He fondly said: "Dear Jeljena, farewell, + My faithful wife; I now hie to the camp, + From whence I hope to come back soon; so for + Thine own sweet sake and mine be true to me." + In haste the wanton woman answered back: + "Go, my loved lord, and God watch over thee." + He had but gone beyond the gate, when she + Took up a jug and went across the field + To fetch fresh water from the fountain there; + And having got unto the grassy glen, she saw + A handsome youth, who had adorned his cap + With flowers freshly culled from terebinth. + And unto him the sprightly wife thus spoke: + "Good day to thee, brave Petar; tell me, pray, + Where hast thou bought those blossoms fresh and fair?" + And he: "God grant thee health, O Gjuro's wife; + They were not got for gold, they are a gift." + Then Jelka hastened back to her own house, + And to her room she called her trusted maid. + "Now list," said she. "Go quick beyond the field + And try to meet young Petar Latkovin; + With terebinth you'll see his cap adorned. + Say unto him: 'Fair youth, to thee I bear + The greetings of good Gjuro's wife, and she + Doth kindly beg that thou wilt sup with her, + And spend the night in dalliance and delight-- + And give her one fair flower from thy cap. + The castle hath nine gates; the postern door + Will ope for thee, now Gjuro is far off." + The handmaid forthwith to the fountain sped, + And found the youth. "Good day, my lord," said she. + "Great Gjuro's winsome wife her greetings sends; + She begs that thou will sup with her this night, + And grant her those sweet sprays of terebinth. + Nine gates our manor has; the small side door + Will be left ope for thee, my handsome youth, + As Gjuro is away." Then Petar thanked + And longed that night might come. At dusk, with joy + He to the castle sped. He put his steed + In Gjuro's stall, and then his sword he hung + Just in the place where Gjuro hung his own, + And set his cap where Gjuro placed his casque. + In mirth they supped, and sleep soon closed their eyes; + But, lo! when midnight came, the wife did hear + Her husband's voice that called: "My Jelka dear, + Come, my loved wife, and open quick thy doors." + Distracted with great fear, she from her bed + Sprang down, scarce knowing what to do; but soon + She hid the youth, then let her husband in. + With feigning love she to his arms would fly, + But he arrested her with frowning mien. + "Why didst thou not call quick thy maiden up + To come and ope at once these doors of thine?" + "Sweet lord, believe a fond and faithful wife: + Last night this maid of mine went off in pain + To bed; she suffers from the ague, my lord; + So I was loth, indeed, to call her up." + "If this be true, you were quite right," quoth he; + "Yet I do fear that all thy words are lies." + "May God now strike me dumb, if all I spake + Be aught than truth," said Jeljena at once. + But frowning, Gjuro stood with folded arms: + "Whose is that horse within my stall? and whose + That cap adorned with flowers gay? And there + I see a stranger's sword upon the wall." + "Now listen to thy loving wife, my lord. + Last night a warrior came within thy walls, + And wanted wine, in pledge whereof he left + His prancing steed, his sword, and that smart cap," + Said Yelka, smiling sweetly to her lord. + And he with lowering looks, then said: "'Tis well, + Provided thou canst swear thou speakest true." + "The Lord may strike me blind," she then replied. + "Why is thy hair dishevelled, and thy cheeks + Of such a pallid hue? now, tell me why?" + And she: "Believe thine honest wife. Last night + As I did walk beneath our orchard trees, + The apple boughs dishevelled thus my hair, + And then I breathed the orange blossom scent, + Until their fragrance almost made me faint." + Now Gjuro's face was fearful to behold, + Still as he frowned he only said: "'Tis well, + But on the holy Cross now take an oath." + "My lord, upon the holy Cross I swear." + "Now give me up the key of mine own room." + Then Jeljena grew ghastly pale with fear, + Still she replied in husky tones: "Last night + As I came from your room the key did break + Within the lock, so now the door is shut." + But he cried out in wrath: "Give me my key, + Or from thy shoulders I shall smite thy head!" + She stood aghast and speechless with affright, + So with his foot he burst at once the door. + There in the room he found young Latkovin. + "Now, answer quick: Didst thou come here by strength, + Or by her will?" The youth a while stood mute, + Not knowing what to say. But looking up: + "Were it by mine own strength," he then replied, + "Beyond the hills she now would be with me; + If I am here, 'tis by her own free will." + Then standing straight, with stern and stately mien, + Unto the youth he said, in scornful tones: + "Hence, get thee gone!" Now, when they were alone, + He glanced askance upon his guilty wife + With loathsomeness and hatred in his eyes: + "Now, tell me of what death thou'lt rather die-- + By having all thy bones crushed in a mill? + Or being trodden down 'neath horses' hoofs? + Or flaring as a torch to light a feast?" + She, for a trice, nor spake, nor moved, nor breathed, + But stood as if amazed and lost in thought; + Then, waking up as from some frightful dream: + "I am no corn to be crushed in a mill, + Or stubble grass for steeds to tread upon; + If I must die, then, like unto a torch, + Let me burn brightly in thy banquet hall." + In freezing tones the husband spake and said: + "Be it, then, as you list," and thereupon + He made her wear a long white waxen gown. + Then, in his hall, he bound her to a pyre, + And underneath he piled up glowing coals, + So that the flame soon rose and reached her knees. + With tearful eyes and a heartrending cry: + "Oh! Gjuro mine, take pity on my youth; + Look at my feet, as white as winter snow; + Think of the times they tripped about this hall + In mazy dance; let not my feet be scorched." + To all her prayers he turned a ruthless ear, + And only heaped more wood on the pile. + The lambent flames now leapt up to her hands, + And she in anguish and in dreadful dole + Cried out: "Oh! show some mercy on my youth; + Just see my hands--so soft, so small, so smooth-- + Let not these scathful flames now scorch my hands. + Have pity on these dainty hands of mine, + That often lifted up thy babe to thee." + Her words awoke no pity in his heart, + That seemed to have become as cold as clay; + He only heaped up coals upon the pile, + Like some fell demon who had fled from hell. + The forked lurid tongues rose up on high, + Like slender fiery snakes that sting the flesh, + And, leaping up, they reached her snowy breast. + "Oh! Gjuro," she cried out, "for pity's sake + Have mercy on my youth; torment me not. + Though I was false to thee, let me not die. + See how these fearful flames deflower these breasts-- + The fountain that hath fed thine infant's life-- + See, they are oozing o'er with drops of milk." + But Gjuro's eyes were blind, his ears were deaf; + A viper now was coiled around his heart, + That urged him to heap up the pile with wood. + The rising flames began to blind her eyes; + Still, ere the fearful smoke had choked her breath, + She cast on Gjuro one long loving glance, + And craved, in anguish, mercy on her youth: + "Have pity on my burning eyes, and let + Me look once more upon my little child." + To all her cries his cruel soul was shut; + He only fanned and fed the fatal flame, + Until the faithless wife was burnt to death. + + +A moment of deep silence followed; the men twisted their moustaches +silently, the women stealthily wiped away their tears with the back +of their hands. + +"Gjuro was a brute!" at last broke out a youth, impetuously. + +Nobody answered at once; then an elderly man said, slowly: + +"Perhaps he was, but you are not a husband yet, Tripko; you are only +in love. Adultery, amongst us, is no trifle, as it is in Venice, for +instance; we Slavs never forgive." + +"I don't say he ought to have forgiven; in his place I might have +strangled her, but as for burning a woman alive, as a torch, I find +it heinous!" + +Milena, who had fancied herself in Jeljena's place, could not refrain +her sobs any longer; moreover, it seemed to her as if her guilt had +been found out, and she wished the earth would open and swallow her +alive. + +"Oh, my poor Milena!" said Mara, soothingly, "you are too +tender-hearted; it is only a _pisma_, after all." Then, turning to +her neighbour, she added: "She has not been well for some days, and +then----" she lowered her voice to a whisper. + +"I am sorry," said the bard, "that I upset you in this way but----" + +"Oh! it is nothing, only I fancied I could see the poor woman +burning; it was so dreadful!" + +"Here," said Bellacic, "have a glass of _slivovitz_; it'll set you +all right. Moreover, listen; I'll tell you a much finer story, only +pay great attention, for I'm not very clever at story-telling. Are +you all ears?" + +"Yes," said Milena, smiling. + +"Well, once upon a time, there was a man who had three dogs: the +first was called Catch-it-quick; the second, Bring-it-back; and the +third, I-know-better. Now, one morning this man got up very early to +go out hunting, so he called Catch-it-quick, Bring-it-back, and +--and--how stupid I am! now I've forgotten the name of the other dog. +Well, I said I wasn't good in telling stories; what was it?" + +"I-know-better," interrupted Milena. + +"No doubt you do, my dear, so perhaps you'll continue the story +yourself, as you know better." + +Everybody laughed, and the gloom that had come over the company after +the bard's story was now dispelled. + +"Radonic is late; I'm afraid, Milena, if you went back home, you'd +have to prepare a stake for him," said Markovic. Then, turning to the +bard: "Come, Stoyan, give us another _pisma_." + +"Yes, but something merry," interrupted Tripko; "tell us some verses +about the great _Kraglievic_." + +The bard, contrary to his wont, was sipping his glass of _slivovitz_ +very slowly; he now finished it and said: + +"I'll try, though, to tell you the truth, I'm rather out of sorts +this evening; I really don't know why. There is an echo, as if of a +crime, in the slightest noise, a smell of blood in every gust of +wind. Do you not hear anything? Well, perhaps, I am mistaken." + +Everyone looked at one another wistfully, for they all knew that old +Stoyan was something of a prophet. + +"There! listen," said he, staring vacantly; "did you not hear?" + +"No," said Bellacic; "what was it?" + +"Only the heavy thud of a man falling like a corpse on the ground," +and as he said these words he crossed himself devoutly and muttered +to himself: "May the Lord forgive him, whoever he is." Thereupon +everybody present crossed himself, saying: "_Bog nas ovari._" + +Milena shuddered and grew deathly pale; though she was not gifted +with second sight, she saw in her mind's eye something so dreadful +that it almost made her faint with terror. Mara, seeing her ghastly +pale, said: + +"Come, give us this song, but let it be something brisk and merry, +for the howling of the wind outside is like a funeral wail, and it is +that lament which makes us all so moody to-night." + +"You are right, _gospodina_; besides, one man more or less--provided +he is no relation of ours--is really no great matter. How many +thousands fell treacherously at Kossoro." Then, taking up his bow, he +began to scrape the chord of his _guzla_, in a swift, jerking, +sprightly way. + +"What is it?" asked Bellacic. + +And Stoyan replied, as he began to sing: + + +MARKO KRAGLIEVIC'S FALCON. + + A falcon flies o'er Budua town; + It bears a gleaming golden crest, + Its wings are gilt, so is its breast; + Of clear bright yellow is each claw, + And with its sheen it lights the wold. + + Then all the maids of Budua town + Ask this fair sparkling bird of prey + Why it is yellow and not grey? + Who gilded it without a flaw? + Who gave it that bright crest of gold? + + And to the maids of Budua town + That falcon shy did thus reply: + Listen, ye maids, and know that I + Belong to Mark the warrior brave, + Who is as fair as he is bold. + + His sisters dwell in Budua town + The first, the fairest of the two, + Painted my claws a yellow hue, + And gilt my wings; great Marko gave + To me this sparkling crest of gold. + + +He finished, and then, as it was getting late, everyone began to wish +Bellacic and Mara good-night and to go off. Several of the guests +offered to see Milena home, but the _domacica_ insisted that her +kinswoman should remain and spend the night with her, and Milena +consented full willingly, for she dreaded going back home. + +When all the guests had gone, Mara took Milena in bed with her; but +she, poor thing, could not find rest, for the words of the bard kept +ever ringing in her ears. Then she saw again the great-coat lying on +the floor, looking like a corpse; and, in the howling wind, she +thought she heard a voice calling for help. Who was it? Radonic or +Vranic? + +It was only the wind howling outside through the trees, creeping +slily along the whitewashed walls of the houses, stealthily trying to +find some small cranny wherein to creep, then shrieking with a shrill +cry of exultation when it had come to an open window, or when, +discovering some huge keyhole, it could whistle undisturbed. + +At last, just as Milena began to get drowsy, and her heavy eyelids +were almost closed, she again saw the _kabanica_, which had--some +hours ago--been lying on the floor, rise and twist itself into the +most grotesque and fantastic attitudes, then--almost hidden under the +hood--Vranic's face making mouths at her. She opened her eyes widely, +and although consciousness had now returned, and she knew that the +great-coat had been left in the other room, still she saw it plainly +dancing and capering like a monkey. She shivered and shuddered; she +closed her eyes not to see it; still, it became ever more distinct. +Then she buried her face in the pillow, and covered up her head in +the sheet; then by degrees a feeling of drowsiness came over her, and +just as she was going off to sleep the _kabanica_, which was standing +erect, fell all at once to the ground with a mighty thud that almost +shook the whole house, and even seemed to precipitate her down some +bottomless hole. In her terror she clutched at Mara, who was fast +asleep, and woke her. + +"What's the matter?" asked the elderly woman. + +"I heard a loud voice; didn't you hear it?" + +"No, I had just dropped off to sleep." + +Thereupon both the women listened, but the house was perfectly quiet. + +"What kind of a noise was it?" + +"Like a man falling heavily on the ground." + +"You must have been dreaming; Stoyan's words frightened you, that's +all, unless the cat or the dog knocked something down. You know, at +night every noise sounds strange, uncouth, whilst in the day-time +we'd never notice them. Now, the best thing you can do is to try and +go off to sleep." + +Alas! why are we not like the bird that puts its head under its wing +and banishes at once the outer world from its view. Every endeavour +she made to bring about oblivion seemed, on the contrary, to +stimulate her to wakefulness, and thereby frustrate her efforts. +Sleepiness only brought on mental irritation, instead of soft, drowsy +rest. The most gloomy thoughts came into her mind. Why had her +husband not come to fetch her? Perhaps Vranic, seeing himself +discovered, had stabbed him to death. Then she thought that, in this +case, all her trouble would be at an end. Thereupon she crossed +herself devoutly, and uttered a prayer that her husband might not be +murdered, even if he had been cruel to her. Still, she was quite sure +that, if Radonic ever discovered her guilt, he would surely murder +her--burn her, perhaps, like Gjuro had done. + +Thereupon she heard the elderly man's slow and grave voice ringing in +her ears: + +"Slavs never forgive. Adultery amongst us is no trifle, as it is in +Venice." + +She shuddered with terror. Every single word as it had been uttered +had sunk deep into her breast, like drops of burning wax falling from +Jeljena's gown. Each one was like the stab of a sharp knife cutting +her to the quick. + +Then again she fancied that Stoyan had sung that _pisma_ only to +taunt her. + +She had once heard the _pop_ read in the Bible about an adulteress in +Jerusolim who was to be stoned to death. + +Had not every word that evening been a stone thrust at her? What was +she to do? What was to become of her? Once entangled in the net of +sin, every effort we make to get out of it seems to make us flounder +deeper in its fatal meshes. + +All these thoughts tortured and harassed her, burning tears were ever +trickling down her cheeks, her weary head was aching as she tossed +about, unable to go off to sleep, unable to find rest; nay, a +creepiness had come over all her limbs, as if a million ants were +going up and down her legs. + +How glad she was at last to see through the curtainless window the +first glimmer of dawn dispel the darkness of the night--the long, +dreary, unending night. + +"You have had a bad night," said Mara. "I heard you turning and +tossing about, but I thought it better not to speak to you. I suppose +it was the bed. I'm like you, I always lose my sleep in a new bed." + +"Oh, no!" said Milena. "I was anxious." + +"About your husband? Perhaps he got drunk and went off to sleep." + +As soon as Milena was dressed she wanted to go off, but Mara would +not allow her. + +"First, your husband said he'd come and fetch you, so you must stay +with us till he comes; then, remember you promised to help me with my +embroidery, so I can't let you go." + +"No, I'm too anxious about Radonic. You know, he's so hasty." + +"Yes, he's a brute, I know." + +"Besides, I can't get the bard's words out of my head." + +"In fact, poor thing, you are looking quite ill. Anyhow, I'll not +allow you to go alone, so you must wait till I've put the house in +order, and then I'll go with you." + +As soon as breakfast was over, and Bellacic was out of the house, +Mara got ready. She little knew that, though Milena was anxious to +find out the dreadful truth of that night's mystery, she was in her +heart very loth to return home. + +Just as Mara was near the door, she, like all women, forgot something +and had to go in, for--what she called--a minute. Milena stepped out +alone. First, as she pushed the door open, the hinges gave a most +unpleasant grating sound. She shivered, for this was a very bad omen. +Then a cat mewed. Milena crossed herself. And, as if all this were +not enough, round the corner came an old lame hag whom she knew. The +old woman stopped. + +"What, _gospa_! is it you? and where are you going so early in the +morning?" + +Milena shuddered, and her teeth chattered in such a way that she +could hardly answer her. It was very bad to meet an old woman in the +morning; worse still, a lame old woman; worst of all, to be asked +where you are going. + +The best thing on such a day would be to go back in-doors, and do +nothing at all; for everything undertaken would go all wrong. + +The old woman's curiosity having been satisfied, she hobbled away, +and soon disappeared, leaving Milena more dejected and forlorn even +than she had been before. + +Mara came out, and found her ghastly pale; she tried to laugh the +matter over, though she, too, felt that it was really no laughing +matter. Weary and worn, poor Milena dragged herself homewards, but +her knees seemed as if they were broken, and her limbs almost refused +to carry her. + +Soon they came in sight of the house; all the windows and the doors +were shut--evidently Radonic was not at home. + +"I wonder where he is," said Milena to her friend. + +"Probably he has gone to our house to look for you. If you had only +waited a little! Now he'll say that we wanted to get rid of you." + +At last they were at the door. + +"And now," said Mara, "probably the house is locked, and you'll have +to come back with me." Then, all at once interrupting herself: "Oh! +how my left ear is ringing, someone is speaking about me; can you +guess who it is, Milena? Yes, I think I can hear my son's voice," and +the fond mother's handsome face beamed with pleasure. + +She had hardly uttered these words, when they heard someone call out: + +"Gospa Mara! gospa Mara!" + +Then turning round, they saw a youth running up to them. + +"What! is it you, Todor Teodorovic? and when did you come back?" +quoth Mara. + +"We came back last evening." + +"Perhaps you met the _Spera in Dio_ on your voyage?" + +"Yes, we met the brig at Zara, but as she had somewhat suffered from +the storm, she was obliged to go to Nona for repairs, as all the +building yards of Zara were busy." + +Thereupon, he began to expatiate very learnedly about the nature of +the damage the ship had suffered, but Mara interrupted him-- + +"And how was Uros? did you see him?" + +"Oh, yes! he was quite well." + +Then he began to tell Mara all about the lives Uros and Milenko had +saved, and how gallantly they had endangered their own. "But," added +he, "our captain has a letter for you, _gospa_." + +"There, I told you I'd have a letter to-day; I had dreamt of doves, +and when I see doves or horses in my sleep, I always get some news +the day afterwards," said Mara, turning to her friend, but Milena had +disappeared. + +Todor Teodorovic having found a willing listener, an occurrence which +happened but very seldom with him, began to tell Mara all about the +repairs the _Spera in Dio_ would have to undergo, and also how long +they would stay at Nona, their approximate cost, and so forth, and +Mara listened because anything that related to her son was +interesting to her. + +Milena had stood for a few moments on the doorstep, but when she +heard that Uros was quite well, she slipped unperceived into the +house. She felt so oppressed as she went in that she almost fancied +she was going to meet her death. + +Was it for the last time she went into that house? Would she ever +come out of it again? + +Her hand was on the latch, she pressed it down; it yielded, the door +opened. Perhaps Radonic had come home late, drunk, and he was there +now sleeping himself sober. If this were the case, she would have a +bad day of it; he was always so fretful and peevish on the day that +followed a drinking bout. + +How dark the room was; all the shutters were tightly shut, and +dazzled as she was by the broad daylight, she could not see the +slightest thing in that dark room. + +Her heart was beating so loud that she fancied it was going to burst; +she panted for breath, she shrank within herself, appalled as she was +by that overpowering darkness. She dreaded to stretch out her hand +and grope about, for it seemed to her as if she would be seized by +some invisible foe, lying there in wait for her. + +Just then, as she was staring in front of her, with widely-opened +eyes, the _kabanica_, as she had seen it the evening before, rose +slowly, gravely, silently, from the floor, and stood upright before +her. + +That gloomy ghost of a garment detached itself from the surrounding +darkness and glided up to her, bending forward with outstretched +arms. No face was to be seen, for the head was quite concealed by the +hood. And yet she fancied Vranic's livid face must be there, near +her. + +She almost crouched down, oppressed by that ghostly garment; she +shrank back with terror, and yet she knew that the phantom in front +of her only existed in her morbid imagination. + +To nerve herself to courage, she turned round to cast a glance at +Uros' mother, and convince herself that she was still there, within +reach at a few steps; then, with averted head, she went in. + +She turned round; the phantom of the _kabanica_ had disappeared. She +was by the hearth. What was she to do now? First, open the shutters +and have some light. She turned towards the right. + +All at once she stumbled on the very spot where, the evening before, +she had caught and entangled her foot in the great-coat. A man was +lying there now, apparently dead. She uttered a piercing cry as she +fell on a cold, lifeless body. Then, as she fell, she fainted. + +Mara and Todor, hearing the cry, rushed into the house. They opened +the shutters, and then they saw Milena lying on the floor, all of a +heap, upon an outstretched body. They lifted her up and laid her on +the bed; then they went to examine the man, who was extended at full +length by the hearth, wrapped up in his huge great-coat. + +"There is no blood about him," said Todor; "he, therefore, must be +drunk, and asleep." + +Still, when they touched his limbs, they found that they were stiff +and stark, anchylosed by the rigid sleep of death. + +Mara pushed back the hood of the _kabanica_, and then she saw a sight +which she never forgot the whole of her life. + +She saw Vranic's face staring at her in the most horrible contortions +of overpowering pain. His distorted mouth was widely open, like a +huge black hole; out of it, his slimy, bloody, dark tongue +protruded--dreadful to behold. His nostrils were fiercely dilated. +Still, worst of all, his eyes, with their ugly cast, started +--squinting, glazed and bloodshot--out of their sockets. The hair of +his face and of his head was bristling frightfully; his ghastly +complexion was blotched with livid spots. It was, indeed, a gruesome +sight, especially seen so unexpectedly. + +All around his neck he bore the traces of strangulation, for Radonic, +who had promised not to use a knife, had been true to his word. + +Mara, shuddering, made the sign of the Cross. She pulled the hood of +the coat over the corpse's face, and then went to nurse Milena; +whilst Todor Teodorovic, who had, at last, found a topic of +conversation worth being listened to, went out to call for help. + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +THE HAYDUK + + +On the morning of the murder Vranic accompanied Radonic out of the +town. He had told Milena he would do so. On reaching the gate +fronting the open country and the dark mountains, Radonic stopped, +and wished his friend Good-bye. The seer insisted upon walking a +little way out of town with him. + +"No, thank you; go back. The weather is threatening, and we'll soon +have rain." + +"Well, what does it matter? If you don't melt, no more shall I," and +he laughed at his would-be witticism. + +"The roads are bad, and you are no great walker." + +Vranic, however, insisted. + +Thus they went on together, through vineyards and olive-groves, until +they got in sight of the white-walled convent. There Radonic tried +once more to get rid of his friend. At last they reached the foot of +the rocky mountain, usually fragrant with sage and thyme. Having got +to the flinty, winding path leading to the fort of Kosmac: + +"Now," said Radonic, "you must positively come no farther." + +The road was uneven and very steep. Vranic yielded. + +"Go back, and take care of Milena." + +"Well, I do not say it as a boast, but you could not leave her in +better hands." + +"She is young, and, like all women--well, she has long hair and short +brains. Look after her." + +"Vranic has his eyes open, and will keep good watch." + +"I know I can rely on you. Have we not always been friends, we two? +That is why, whenever I left my home, I did so with a light heart." + +"Your honour is as dear to me as if it were my own." + +"It is only in times of need that we really appreciate the advantage +of having a friend. The proverb is right: 'Let thy trusted friend be +as a brother to you'; and a friend to whom we can entrust our wife, +is even more than a brother. I therefore hope to be able to repay you +soon for your kindness." + +"Don't mention it. It has been a pleasure for me to be of use to you; +for, as honey attracts flies, a handsome young woman collects men +around her. So there must always be someone to ward off indiscreet +admirers. Moreover, as you know, they say I am a seer, and they are +afraid of me." + +At last they kissed and parted; the one walking quickly townwards, +almost light-hearted, especially after the load of his friend's +company, the other trudging heavily upwards. + +After a few steps, Radonic climbed a high rock, and sat down to watch +Vranic retracing his steps townwards. When he had seen him disappear, +he at last rose and quietly followed him for a while. A quarter of an +hour afterwards he was knocking at the gate of the white-walled +convent. The monks, who are always fond of any break in their +monotonous life, received him almost with deference--a sea captain, +who had been all over the world, was always a welcome guest. After +taking snuff with all of them, and chatting about politics, the crops +and the scandal of the town, Radonic asked to be confessed; then he +gave alms, was absolved of his peccadilloes, and finally took the +Eucharist--a spoonful of bread soaked in wine--although he prided +himself on being something of a sceptic. Still, he felt comforted +thereby; he had blotted out all past sins and could now begin a new +score. Religion, they say, in all its forms always tends to make man +happy--aye, and better! + +In this merry frame of mind he sat down to dinner with the jolly +brotherhood, and after a copious but plain meal, he, according to the +custom of this holy house, retired to one of the cells appointed to +strangers, to have a nap. No sooner was he alone than he undid his +bundle, took out a razor and shaved off all the hair of his cheeks +and chin, leaving only a long pair of thick moustaches, which he +curled upwards according to the fierce fashion of the Kotor. This +done, he took off his soiled, ugly, badly-fitting European clothes +and put on the dress of the country--one of the finest and manliest +devised by man; so that, although not good-looking, he was handsome +to what he had just been. + +The monks, on seeing him come out, did not recognise him, and could +not understand from whence he had sprung. Then they were more than +astonished when they found out the reason for this transformation, +for he told them that it was to surprise his wife, or rather, the +moths attracted by her sparkling eyes. + +"I thought I should never put on again the clothes of my youth, but +fate, it appears, has decreed otherwise." + +"Man is made of dust, and to dust he returneth. Sooner or later we +have to become again what we once were. You know the story of the +mouse, don't you?" + +"No; or at least I don't think I do." + +"Then listen, and I'll tell it you." + + +A great many years ago, in the times of Christ and His disciples, +there lived somewhere in Asia a very good man, who had left off +worshipping idols and had become a Christian. + +Finding soon afterwards that it was impossible for him to dwell any +more with his own people--who scoffed at his new creed, rated him for +wishing to be better than they were, mocked him when he prayed, and +played all kinds of tricks on him when he fasted--he sold his +birthright and divided all his money amongst the poor, the blind and +the cripples of his native town. Then he bade farewell to all his +friends and relations, and with the Holy Scriptures in one hand, and +a staff in the other, he went out of the town gate and walked into +the wilderness. + +He wandered for many days until he arrived on top of a steep, +treeless, wind-blown hill, and, almost on the summit, he found a +small cave, the ground of which was strewn with fine white sand, as +soft to the feet as a velvet carpet. On one side of this grotto there +was a fountain of icy cold water, and on the other, hewn in the rock +as if by the hand of man, a kind of long niche, which looked as if it +had been made on purpose for a bed. The Christian, who had decided to +become a hermit, saw in this cave a sign of God's will and favour; +therefore, he stopped there. For some time he lived on the roots of +plants, berries and wild fruit, that grew at the foot of the hill; +then he cultivated a patch of ground, and so he passed his time, +praying, reading his holy Book, meditating over it, or tilling his +bit of glebe. + +Years and years passed--who knows how many?--and he had become an old +man, with a long white beard reaching down to his knees, a brown, +sun-burnt skin, and a face furrowed with wrinkles. Since the day he +had left his country, he had never again seen a man, a woman or a +child, nor, indeed, any other animal, except a few birds that flew +over his head, or some small snakes that glided amongst the stones. +So one evening, after he had said his lengthy prayers and committed +his soul to God, he went to lie down on his couch of leaves and moss; +but he could not sleep. He, for the first time, felt lonely, and, as +it were, home-sick. He knew he would never behold again the face of +any man, so he almost wished he had, at least, some tiny living +creature to cherish. Sleep at last closed his eyes. In the morning, +on awaking, he saw a little mouse frisking in the sand of his cave. +The old hermit looked astonished at the pretty little thing, and he +durst not move, but remained as quiet as a mouse, for fear the mouse +would run away. + +The animal, however, caught sight of him, and stood stock-still on +its hind legs, looking at him. Thus they both remained for some +seconds, staring at each other. Then the hermit understood at last +that God, in His goodness, had heard his wish, and had sent him this +little mouse to comfort him, and be a companion to him in his old +age. And so it was. + +Days, months, years passed, and the mouse never left the hermit, not +even for a single instant; and the godly man grew always fonder of +this friendly little beast. He played with it, patted it, and called +it pet names; and at night, when he crept into his niche to sleep, he +took the mouse with him. + +One night, as he pressed the little animal to his breast, he felt his +heart overflow with love for it, and in his unutterable fondness he +begged the Almighty to change this dear little mouse into a girl; and +lo, and behold! God granted his prayer, for, of course, he was a +saintly man. The hermit pressed the girl to his heart, and then fell +upon his knees and thanked the All-Merciful for His great goodness. + +The girl grew up a beautiful maiden--tall, slender, and most graceful +in her movements, with a soft skin, and twinkling, almost mischievous +eyes. + +Years passed. The hermit now had grown to be a very old man; and in +his last years his spirit was troubled, and his heart was full of +care. He knew that he had passed the time allotted to man here below, +and he was loth to think that he would have to die and leave his +daughter alone in the wilderness. Besides, she had reached +marriageable age; and if it is no easy matter for a match-making +mother to marry her daughter in a populous town, it was a difficult +task to find a husband for her in that desert. Moreover, he did not +exactly know how to broach the subject of matrimony to a girl who was +so very ingenuous, and who thought that all the world was limited to +the cave and the hill on which she lived. Still, he did not shrink +from this duty; and, therefore, he told her what he had read in +scientific books about the conjunctions of planets in the sky. Then +he quoted the Scriptures, and said that it was not good for man to be +alone, nor for woman either; that even widows should marry, if they +cannot live in the holy state of celibacy. + +The poor girl did not quite fathom all the depths of his speech, but +said she would be guided by his wisdom. + +"Very well," said the anchorite, "I shall soon find you a husband +worthy of you." + +"But," said the girl, ingenuously, "why do you not marry me +yourself?" + +"_I_ marry you? First, my dear, I am a hermit, and hermits never +marry, for if they did, they might have a family, then--you +understand--they wouldn't be hermits any more, would they?" + +"But they needn't have a family, need they?" + +"Well, perhaps not; besides, I can't marry you, because----" + +"Because?" + +"I," stammered the anchorite, blushing, "I'm too old." + +"Ah, yes!" echoed the maid, sighing; "it's a fact, you are _very_ +old." + +That night, after the hermit and his adopted daughter had said their +prayers, she, who was very sleepy, went off to bed, whilst he, who +was as perplexed as any father having a dowerless daughter, went out +of his cavern to meditate. + +The full moon had just risen above the verge of the horizon, and her +soft light silvered the sand of the desert, and made it look like +newly fallen snow. + +The old man stood on top of the hill, and stretching forth his arms +to the Moon: + +"Oh! thou mightiest of God's works, lovely Moon, take pity upon a +perplexed father, and listen to my prayer. I have one fair daughter +that has now reached marriageable age; she is of radiant beauty, and +well versed in all the mysteries of our holy religion. Marry my +daughter, O Moon!" + +"Now," said Radonic, interrupting, "that's foolish; how could the old +hermit expect the Moon to marry his daughter?" + +"First, this is a parable, like one of those our blessed Saviour used +to tell the people; therefore, being a parable, it's Gospel, and you +must believe it as a true story, for it is the life of one of the +holy Fathers of the Church." + +"I see," quoth Radonic, although he did not see quite clearly. + +Then the Moon replied: + +"You are mistaken, old man; I am not the mightiest of God's creation. +The Sun, whose light I reflect, is the greatest of the Omnipotent's +works; ask the Sun to be a husband to thy daughter." + +The hermit sank on his knees and uttered lengthy prayers, till the +light of the Moon grew pale and vanished, and the sky got to be of a +saffron tint; soon afterwards, the first rays of the Sun flooded the +desert, and transmuted the sandy plain into one mass of glittering +gold. When the old man saw the effulgent disc of the Sun, he +stretched out his arms and apostrophised this planet as he had done +the Moon. Then he rubbed his hands and thought: + +"Well, if I only get the Sun for my son-in-law I'm a lucky man." + +But the Morning Sun told the hermit that he was mistaken: + +"I'm not the mightiest of the Creator's works," quoth the Sun. "You +see yon cloudlet yonder. Well, soon that little weasel will get to be +as big as a camel, then as a whale, then it'll spread all over the +sky and will hide my face from the earth I love so well. That Cloud +is mightier than I am." + +Then the hermit waited on top of the hill until he saw the Cloud +expand itself in the most fantastic shapes, and when it had covered +up the face of the Morning Sun, the hermit stretched out his hands +and offered to it his daughter in marriage. The Cloud, however, +answered just as the Moon and the Sun had done, and it proposed the +Simoon as a suitor to his daughter. + +"Wait a bit," said the Cloud, "and you will see the might of the +Simoon, that, howling, rises and not only drives us whithersoever he +will, but scatters us in the four corners of the Earth." + +No sooner had the Cloud done speaking than the Wind arose, lifting up +clouds of dust from the earth. It seemed to cast the sand upwards in +the face of the sky, and against the clouds; and the waters above +dropped down in big tears, or fled from the wrath of the Wind. + +Then the hermit stretched his hands towards the Simoon, and begged +him, as the mightiest of the Creator's works, to marry his daughter. + +But the Wind, howling, told him to turn his eyes towards a high +mountain, the snowy summit of which was faintly seen far off in the +distance. "That Mountain," said he, "is mightier by far than myself." + +The hermit then went into the cavern and told his daughter that, as +it was impossible to find a suitor for her in the desert, he was +going on a journey, from which he would only return on the morrow. + +"And will you bring me a husband when you come back?" she asked, +merrily. + +"I trust so, with God's grace," quoth the Hermit, "and one well +worthy of you, my beloved daughter." + +Then the hermit girded his loins, took up his staff, and journeyed in +the direction of the setting sun. Having reached the foot of the +Mountain when the gloaming tinged its flanks in blood, he stretched +out his arms up to the summit of the Mount and begged it to marry his +daughter. + +"Alas," answered the Mountain, mournfully, "you are much mistaken. I +am by no means the mightiest of God's works. A Rat that has burrowed +a big hole at my feet is mightier by far than I am, for he nibbles +and bites me and burrows in my bowels, and I can do nothing against +it. Ask the Rat to marry thy daughter, for he is mightier by far than +I am." + +The hermit, after much ado, found out the Rat's hole, and likewise +the Rat, who--like himself--was a hermit. + +"Oh, mightiest of God's mighty works! I have one daughter, passing +fair, highly accomplished, and well versed in sacred lore; wilt +thou--unless thou art already married--take this rare maiden as thy +lawful wedded wife?" + +"Hitherto, I have never contemplated marriage," retorted the Rat, +"for 'sufficient to the day are the evils thereof'; still, where is +your daughter?" + +"She is at home, in the wilderness." + +"Well, you can't expect me to marry a cat in a bag, can you?" he +answered, squeaking snappishly. + +"Oh, certainly not!" replied the anchorite, humbly; "still, that she +is fair, you have my word on it; and I was a judge of beauty in past +times"--thereupon he stopped, and humbly crossed himself--"that she +is wise--well, she is my daughter." + +"Pooh!" said the Rat; "every father thinks his child the fairest one +on earth; you know the story of the owl, don't you?" + +"I do," retorted the hermit, hastily. + +"Then you wouldn't like me to tell it you, would you?" + +"No, not I." + +"Well, then, what about your daughter?" + +"I'll take you to see her, if you like." + +"Is it far?" + +"A good day's walk." + +"H'm, I don't think it's worth while going so far. Could you not +bring her here for me to see her?" + +"Oh! it's against etiquette. But if you like, I'll carry you to her." + +"All right, it's a bargain." + +At nightfall they set out on their journey, and they got to the cave +early on the following day. + +The young girl, seeing the hermit, ran down the hill to meet him. + +"Well, father," said she, with glistening eyes, flushed cheeks, +parted lips, and panting breast, "and my husband, where is my +husband?" + +"Here," said the anchorite; and he took the Rat out of his wallet. +"Here he is; allow me to introduce to you a husband mightier than the +Moon, more powerful than the Sun, stronger than the Clouds, more +valiant than the Simoon, greater than the high Mountain; in fact, a +husband well worthy of you, my daughter." + +The eyes of the young girl opened wider and wider in mute +astonishment. + +"He's a fine specimen of his kind, isn't he?" + +"I daresay he is," said she, surveying him with the eye of a +connoisseur; "and cooked in honey, he'd be a dainty bit." + +"And he's a hermit, into the bargain." + +"But," added the girl, ruefully, "if you intended me to marry a rat, +was it not quite useless to have turned me into a woman?" + +The hermit stroked his beard, pensively, for a while, and was +apparently lost in deep meditation. + +"My daughter," replied he, after a lengthy pause, "your words are +Gospel; I have never thought of all this till now; you see clearly +that 'the ways of Providence are not our ways.'" + +Thereupon, the old man fell on his knees, for he felt himself +rebuked; he prayed long and earnestly that his daughter might once +more be changed into a mouse. And, lo and behold! his prayer was +granted; nay, before he had got up from his knees and looked around, +the girl had dwindled into her former shape, evidently well pleased +with the change. + +Anyhow, the anchorite was comforted in his loneliness, for he had +always meant well towards her; moreover, he felt sure that if the +newly-married couple ever had children, the little mice would be so +well brought up, that they would scrupulously refrain from eating +lard on fast days. + +Then the hermit, tired with his journey, went and lay down on his bed +of moss, dropped off to sleep, and never woke again on earth. + + +At dusk, Radonic took leave of the learned and hospitable +_kaludgeri_, and went back to town. He reached the gate when the +shadows of the night had already fallen upon the earth. Although he +fancied that everyone he met stared at him, still many of his +acquaintances passed close by him without recognising him. + +At last he crossed the whole of the town and got to his house. The +door being slightly ajar, he thought Milena must be at home. He +glided in on tiptoe, his _opanke_ hardly making the slightest noise +on the stone floor. There was no fire on the hearth, no light to be +seen anywhere. Milena was not in the front room, nor in any of the +others. Where could she have gone, and left the front door open? +Surely she would be back in a few moments? He crouched in a corner +and waited, but Milena did not make her appearance. + +As it was quite dark, he groped to the cupboard, found the loaf, cut +himself a slice, then managed to lay his hand on the cheese. As he +ate, he almost felt like a burglar in his own house. The darkness +really unnerved him, and yet he was inured to watch in the night on +board his ship; now, however, the hand of Time seemed to have +stopped. + +The bread was more than tough, the cheese was dry; so he could hardly +manage to gulp the morsels down. Unable to find the _bukara_, he went +into the cellar and took a long draught of heady wine. + +Returning upstairs, he again crouched in a corner. Milena had not +come back; evidently, she had gone to Mara's, as he had told her to. +Sitting there in the darkness, watching and waiting, with the purpose +of blood on his mind, time hung wearily upon him. The wine had +somewhat cheered him, but now drowsiness overpowered him. To keep +himself from falling asleep, he tried to think. Though he was not +gifted with a glowing imagination, still his mind was full of +fancies, and one vision succeeded another in his overheated brain. +His past life now began to flit before his eyes like scenes in a +peep-show. A succession of ghosts arose from amidst the darkness and +threatened him. One amongst them made him shudder. It was that of a +beautiful young woman of eighteen summers standing on the seashore, +waiting for a sail. + +Many years ago, when he was only a simple sailor, he had been wrecked +on the coasts of Sicily. A poor widow had given him shelter, and in +return for her kindness, what had he done? This woman had three +daughters; the eldest was a beautiful girl of eighteen, the other two +were mere children. For months these poor creatures toiled for him +and fed him. Then he married the girl under a false name with the +papers belonging to one of the drowned sailors. Although he had +married her against his will--for she was a Catholic and did not +belong to the Orthodox faith--still he intended doing what was +right--bring her to his country, and re-marry her according to the +rites of his own Church. But time passed; so he confessed, gave alms +to the convent, obtained the absolution, and was almost at peace with +himself. Probably, she had come to the conclusion that he had been +swallowed up by the hungry waves, and she had married a man of her +own country; so his child had a father. Still, since his marriage, +the vision of that woman often haunted him. + +Anyhow, he added bitterly to himself, although a Catholic, she had +loved him. Milena, a true believer, had never cared for him. And now +he remembered the first time he had seen Milena; how smitten he had +been by her beauty, how her large eyes had flashed upon him with a +dark and haughty look. She had disliked him from the first, but what +had he cared when he had got her father into his hands? for when the +proud Montenegrin owed him a sum which he could not pay at once, he +had asked him for the hand of his daughter. + +Instead of trying to win her love, he had ill-treated her from the +very beginning; then, seeing that nothing could daunt her, he had +often feared lest he should find his house empty on returning home. + +All at once the thought struck him that now she had run away with +Vranic. She had, perhaps, confided the whole truth to him, and they +had escaped together. He ground his teeth with rage at that thought. + +No, such a thing could not be, for she hated Vranic. + +"Aye, it is true she hates him, but does she not hate me as much?" he +said to himself; "fool that I was not to have thought of this before. +Vranic is not handsome; no one can abide him. Still, he clings to +women in a way that it is almost impossible to get rid of him. +Anyhow, if they have gone away together, I swear by the blessed +Virgin, by St. Nicholas, and by St. Cyril and Method that I shall +overtake them; nay," said he, with a fearful oath, "even if they have +taken refuge in God's own stomach, I shall go and drag them out and +take vengeance on them, as a true Slav that I am. Still, in the +meantime, they have, perhaps, fooled me, and I am here waiting for +them." And, in his rage, he struck his head against the wall. + +"Trust a woman!" thought Radonic; "they are as skittish as cats, +slippery as eels, as false as sleeping waters. Why, my own mother +cheated me of many a penny, only for the pleasure of hoarding them, +and then leaving them to me after her death. Trust a woman as far as +you can see her, but no farther," and then he added: "Yes, and trust +thy friend, which is like going to pat a rabid dog.--What o'clock is +it?" he asked himself. + +He was always accustomed to tell the time of the day to a minute, +without needing a watch, but now he had lost his reckoning. + +It was about six o'clock when he came back home; was it nine or ten +now? + +He durst not strike a light, for fear of being seen from without and +spoiling his little game. He waited a little more. + +The threatening shadows of the past gathered once more around him. + +All at once he heard some words whispered audibly. It was the curse +of the boy he had crippled for life. He shuddered with fear. In his +auto-suggestion he, for a moment, actually fancied he had heard those +words. Then he shrugged his shoulders, and tried to think of +pleasanter subjects. + +A curse is but a few idle words; still, since that time, not a decent +seaman had ever sailed with him. + +He could not bear the oppressive darkness any longer; peopled as it +was with shadows, it weighed upon him. He went into the inner room, +lit a match, looked at his watch. + +It was not yet nine o'clock. Time that evening was creeping on at a +sluggish pace. + +"Surely," he soliloquised, "if Vranic is coming he cannot delay much +longer." After a few seconds he put out the light and returned to the +front room. + +Soon afterwards, he heard a bell strike slowly nine o'clock in the +distance; then all was silence. The house was perfectly still and +quiet, and yet, every now and then, in the room in which he was +sitting, he could hear slight, unexplainable noises, like the soft +trailing of garments, or the shuffling of naked feet upon the stone +floor; stools sometimes would creak, just as if someone had sat upon +them; then small objects seemed stealthily handled by invisible +fingers. + +He tried to think of his business, always an engrossing subject, not +to be overcome by his superstitious fears. He had been a shrewd man, +he had mortgaged his house for its full value to Vranic himself to +buy the mythical cargo. Now that all his wealth was in bank-notes, or +in bright and big Maria Theresa dollars, he was free to go +whithersoever he chose. + +Still, it was vexing to think that if he killed that viper of a +Vranic, as he was in duty bound to do, he would have to flee from his +native town, and escape to the mountains, at least till affairs were +settled. It was a pity, for now the insurance society would make a +rich man of him, so he might have remained comfortably smoking his +pipe at home, and enjoying the fruits of many years' hard labour. + +A quarter-past nine! + +He began to wonder whether Milena--not seeing him come to fetch her +--would return home. Surely more than one young man would offer to +see her to her house. This thought made him gnash his teeth with rage. + +When once the venom of jealousy has found its way within the heart of +man, it rankles there, and, little by little, poisons his whole +blood. + +And again he thought: "That affair of Uros and Milenko has never been +quite clear; Vranic was false, there was no doubt about it; still, it +was not he who had invented the whole story. Had he not been the +laughing-stock of all his friends?" + +Half-past nine! + +How very slowly the hours passed! If he could only do something to +while away the time--pace up and down the room, as he used to do on +board, and smoke a cigarette; but that was out of the question. + +Hush! was there not a noise somewhere? It must have been outside; and +still it seemed to him as if it were in the house itself. Was it a +mouse, or some stray cat that had come in unperceived? No; it was a +continuous noise, like the trailing of some huge snake on the dry +grass. + +A quarter to ten! + +Silence once more. Now, almost all the town is fast asleep. He would +wait a little longer, and then? Well, if Vranic did not come soon, he +would not come at all, so it would be useless waiting. He wrapped +himself up in his great-coat, for the night was chilly, and had it +not been for the thought that Milena had fled with Vranic, sleepiness +would have overcome him. + +He thoughtlessly began making a cigarette, out of mere habit, just to +do something. It was provoking not to smoke just when a few puffs +would be such a comfort. + +Now he again hears the chimes at a distance; the deep-toned bell +rings the four quarters slowly; the vibrations of one stroke have +hardly passed away when the quiet air is startled by another stroke. +How much louder and graver those musical notes sound in the hushed +stillness of the night! + +Ten o'clock! + +Some towns--Venice, for instance--were all life and bustle at that +hour of the night; the streets and squares all thronged with masks +and merry revellers; the theatres, coffee-houses, dancing-rooms, were +blazing with light, teeming with life, echoing with music and +merriment. Budua is, instead, as dark, as lonesome, and as silent as +a city of the dead. The whole town is now fast asleep. + +"It is useless to wait any longer," mutters Radonic to himself; +"nobody is coming." + +The thought that his wife had fled with Vranic has almost become a +certainty. Jealousy is torturing him. He feels like gripping his +throat and choking himself, or dashing his head to pieces against the +stone wall. If his house had been in town, near the others, Vranic +might have waited till after ten o'clock; but, situated where it was, +no prying neighbours were to be feared. Something had, perhaps, +detained him. Still, what can detain a man when he has such an object +in view? + +Muttering an oath between his teeth, Radonic stood up. + +"Hush! What was that?" He listened. + +Nothing, or only one of the many unexplainable noises heard in the +stillness of the night. + +Perhaps, after all, Vranic had been on the watch the whole day, and +then he had seen him return. Perhaps--though he had never believed in +his friend's gift of second sight--Vranic was indeed a seer, and +could read within the minds of men. Perhaps, having still some +doubts, he would only come on the morrow. Anyhow, he would go to bed +and abide his time. He stretched his anchylosed limbs and yawned. + +Now he was certain he heard a noise outside. + +He stood still. It was like the sound of steps at a distance. He +listened again. This time he was not mistaken, though, indeed, it was +a very low sound. Stealthy steps on the shingle. He went on tiptoe to +the door. The sound of the steps was more distinct at every pace. +Moreover, every now and then, a stone would turn, or creak, or strike +against another, and thus betray the muffled sound of the person who +walked. + +Radonic listened breathlessly. + +Perhaps, after all, it was only Milena coming back home. He peeped +out, but he could not see anything. Was his hearing quicker than his +sight? + +He strained his eyes and then he saw a dark shadow moving among the +bushes, but even then he could only distinguish it because his eyes +were rendered keener by following the direction pointed out by his +ears. + +Was it Vranic, he asked himself. + +Aye, surely; who else could it be but Vranic? + +Still, what was he afraid of? No human eye could see him, no ear +detect his steps. + +Are we not all afraid of the crime we are about to commit? There is +in felony a ghastly shadow that either precedes or follows us. It +frightens even the most fearless man. + +Slowly the shadow emerged from within the darkness of the bushes and +came up towards the house. It was Vranic's figure, his shuffling +gait. + +Radonic's breast was like unto a glowing furnace, the blood within +his heart was bubbling like molten metal within a crucible. + +In a moment, that man--who was coming to seduce his wife and +dishonour him--would be within his clutches. + +Then he would break every bone within his body. He seemed to hear the +shivering they made as he shattered them into splinters, and he +shuddered. + +For a moment, the atrocity of the crime he was about to commit, +daunted him. + +Still, almost at the same time, he asked himself whether he were +going to turn coward at the last moment. + +Was he not doing an act of equity? How heinously had not this fiend +dealt by him! He had put him up against his wife, until, baited, she +was almost driven to adultery. No, the justice of God and man would +absolve him; if not--well, he had rather be hanged, and put his soul +in jeopardy, than forego his vengeance. He was a Slav. + +All these thoughts flitted through his brain in an instant, like +flashes of lightning following one another on a stormy night. + +Radonic watched the approaching shadow, from the cranny of the door +ajar, with a beating heart. + +Before Vranic came to the doorstep, he stopped. He looked round on +one side, then on the other; after that he cast a glance all around. +He bent his head forward to try and pierce the darkness that +surrounded him. Was he seeing ghosts? Then he seemed to be listening. +At last, convinced that he was alone, he again walked on. Now he was +by the door, almost on the sill, within reach of Radonic's grasp. He +stopped again. + +Radonic clasped his knife; he might have flung the door open, and +despatched him with a single blow. No, that would have been stupid. +It was better by far to let him come in, like a mouse into a trap, +and there be caught with his own bait. Yes, he would make the most of +his revenge, spit upon him, torture him. + +Slowly and noiselessly he glided back into a corner behind the door. +Some everlasting seconds passed. He waited breathlessly, for his +heart was beating so loud that he could only gasp. + +Had Vranic repented at the last instant? Had he gone back? Was he +still standing on the doorstep, waiting and watching? At last he +moved--he came up to the door--he slowly pushed it open; then again +he stopped. The darkness within was blacker than the darkness +without. + +"_Sst, pst!_" he hissed, like a snake. Then he waited. + +He came a step onward; then, in an undertone: "Milena, Milena, where +are you?" + +Again he waited. + +"Milena," he whispered; and again, louder: "Milena, are you here?" + +He stretched forth his hands, and groped his way in. Radonic could +just distinguish him. + +"Milena, my love, it is I, Vranic." + +Those few words were like a sharp stab to Radonic. He made a +superhuman effort not to move; for he wanted to see what the rascal +would do next. + +"Perhaps she has fallen asleep, or else has gone to bed," he muttered +to himself. + +He again advanced a few steps, always feeling his way. Evidently, he +was going towards the next room; for he knew the house well. All at +once, he stumbled against a stool. He was frightened; he thought +someone had clutched him by the legs. He recovered, and shut the door +behind him. It was a fatal step; for otherwise he might, perhaps, +have managed to escape. + +How easy it would now have been for Radonic to pounce upon him and +dash his brains out; but he wanted to follow the drama out to its +end, and now the last scene was at hand. + +Vranic, having shut the door, remained quiet for some time. He +fumbled in his pockets, took out his steel and flint, then struck a +light. At the first spark he might have seen Radonic crouching a few +steps from him, but he was too busy lighting the bit of candle he had +brought with him. When his taper shed its faint glimmer, then he +looked round, and, to his horror, he saw the figure of a man, with +glistening eyes, and a dagger in his hand, standing not far from him. +At first he did not recognise his friend, with shaven beard and in +his new attire; still, he did not require more than a second glance +to know who it was. + +Terror at once overpowered him; he uttered a low, stifled cry. +Retreat was now out of the question; he therefore tried to master his +emotion. + +"Oh! Radonic, is it you? How you frightened me! I did not recognise +you. But how is it that you have come back? and this change in----" + +"How is it that you are in my house at this hour of the night?" said +he, laying his hands on him. + +"I--I," quoth Vranic, gasping, "I came to see if everything was +quiet, as I promised, and seeing your door open----" + +"That is why you call Milena your love." + +"Did I? You are mistaken, Radonic--though perhaps I did; but then it +was only to see if she were expecting someone; you know women are +light----" + +"You liar, you villain, you devil!" And Radonic, clutching him by his +shoulders, shook him. + +"Believe me! I swear by my soul! I swear by the holy Virgin, whose +medals--blessed by the Church--I wear round my neck. May I be struck +down dead if what I say is not true!" + +"Liar, forswearer, wretch!" hissed out Radonic, as he spat in +Vranic's face. + +"I never meant to wrong you," replied Vranic, blubbering. "I came +here as a friend--I told you I would; may all the saints together +blind me if what I say be not true." + +But the husband, ever more exasperated, clutched his false friend by +the throat, and as he spouted out all his wrath, he kept gripping him +tighter and ever tighter. In his passion his convulsively clenched +fingers were like the claws of a bird of prey. + +Vranic now struggled in vain; the candle, which had been blown out, +had fallen from his fingers; he tried to speak, he gasped for breath, +he was choking. + +Radonic's grasp now was as that of an iron vice, and the more the +false friend struggled to get free, the stronger he squeezed. + +Vranic at last emitted a stifled, raucous, gurgling sound; then his +arms lost their strength, and when, a moment afterwards, the furious +husband relinquished his hold, his antagonist fell on the floor with +a mighty thud. + +The bells of the church were chiming in the distance. + +Radonic, shivering, shuddering, stood stock-still in the darkness +that surrounded him; he only heaved a noiseless sigh--the deep breath +of a man who has accomplished an arduous task. + +Vranic did not get up; he did not move. Was he dead? + +"Dead!" whispered Radonic to himself. + +Just then the body, prostrate at his feet, uttered a low, hoarse, +hollow sound. Was it the soul escaping from the body? + +He looked down, he looked round; black clouds seemed to be whirling +all around him like wreaths of smoke. He durst not move from where he +stood for fear of stumbling against the corpse. + +At last he took out his steel and began to strike a light, but in his +trepidation, he struck his fingers far oftener than his flint. At +last he managed to light a lantern on the table close by, and then +came to look at the man stretched on the floor. + +Oh, what a terrible sight he saw! He had till now seen murdered men +and drowned men, but never had he witnessed such a terrifying sight +before; it was so horrible that, like Gorgon's hideous head, it +fascinated him. + +After a few minutes' dumb contemplation, Radonic heaved again a deep +sigh, and whispered to himself: "It is a pity I did not leave him +time to utter a prayer, to confess his sins, to kiss the holy Cross +or the image of the saints. After all, I did not mean to kill the +soul and body together." Then, prompted by religious superstitions, or +by a Christian feeling--for he was of the Orthodox faith--he went to +a fount of holy water, dipped in it a withered olive twig, and came +to sprinkle the corpse, and made several signs of the holy Cross; +then he knelt down and muttered devoutly several prayers for the rest +of the soul of the man whom he had just murdered; then he sprinkled +and crossed him again. + +Had he opened the gates of paradise to the soul that had taken its +flight? Evidently he felt much comforted after having performed his +religious duties; so, rolling a cigarette, and lighting it at the +lantern, he went to sit on the doorstep outside and smoke. That +cigarette finished, he made another, and then another. At last, after +having puffed and mused for about an hour, he again went into the +house and made a bundle of all the things he wanted to take away with +him. Everything being ready, and feeling hungry, he went to the +cupboard, cut himself a huge slice of bread and a piece of cheese, +which he ate as slowly as if he were keeping watch on board; then he +took a long draught of wine, and, as midnight was striking, he left +the house. + +"I wonder," he thought, "where Milena is; anyhow, it is much better +she is away, for, had she been in the house, she might have given me +no end of useless trouble. Women are so fussy, so unpractical at +times." + +Thereupon he lighted his pipe. + +"Still," he soliloquised, "I should have liked to see her before +starting, to bid her good-bye. Who knows when I'll see her again, if +I ever do see her? And how I hope this affair will be settled soon, +and satisfactorily, too; he has no very near relations, and those he +has will be, in their hearts, most grateful to me." + +He trudged on wearily. When he passed Mara's house, he stopped, +sighed, and muttered to himself: + +"Good-bye! Milena. I loved you in my own churlish way; I loved you, +and if I've been unkind to you, it was all Vranic's fault, for he +drove me on to madness. Anyhow, he has paid for it, and dearly, too; +so may his soul rest in peace!" + +"And now," thought he, "it is useless fooling about; it is better to +be off and free in Montenegro before the murder is discovered and the +Austrian police are after me, for there is no trifling with this +new-fangled government that will not allow people to arrange their +little private affairs--it even belies our own proverb: 'Every one is +free in his own house.'" + +As he left the town, he bethought himself of what he was to do. First +he would see his father-in-law, and ask him to go down to town and +fetch his daughter, for it was useless to leave Milena alone in +Budua; life would not be pleasant there till the business of the +_karvarina_ was settled. Then, as Montenegro was always at war with +Turkey, he supposed that he would, as almost all _hayduk_, have to +take to fighting as an occupation, though, thank God, he said to +himself, not as a means of subsistence. + +It was, however, only at dawn that he managed to get out of the town +gate, together with some peasants going to their early work, and so +he crossed the frontier long before Vranic's murder was known in +town. + +On the morrow, when Milena fainted on the murdered man's corpse, she +was taken up and placed on her bed; she was sprinkled with water and +vinegar; she was chafed and fanned; a burning quill was placed under +her nose, but, as none of these little remedies could recall her to +life, medical help had to be sent for. Even when she came back to her +senses, another fainting-fit soon followed, so that she was almost +the whole day in a comatose state. + +Meanwhile (Tripko having summoned help), the house was filled with +people, who all bustled about, talked very loud, asked and answered +their own questions. Those gifted with more imagination explained to +the others all the incidents of the murder. Last of all came the +guards. Then they, with much ado and self-importance, managed to +clear the house. + +Though Mara would have liked to take Milena back home with her, still +the doctors declared that it was impossible to remove her from her +bed, where for many weeks she lay unconscious and between life and +death, for a strong brain-fever followed the fainting-fits. Her +father and mother (who had come to take her away) tended her, and +love and care succeeded where medical science had failed. + + + + +CHAPTER X + +PRINCE MATHIAS + + +Sailing from Trieste to Ragusa, the _Spera in Dio_ was becalmed just +in front of Lissa; for days and days she lay there on that rippleless +sea, looking like "a painted ship upon a painted ocean." + +It was towards the middle of spring, in that season of the year +called by the Dalmatians the _venturini_, or fortunate months, on +account of the shoals of sardines, anchovies, and mackerel, which +swim up the Adriatic, and towards that eastern part of its shores, +affording the people--whose barren land affords them but scanty +food--the main source of their sustenance. + +At last a faint breeze began to blow; it brought with it the sweet +scent of thyme and sage from the rocky coast only a few miles off, +and made the flabby sails flap gently against the masts, still, +without swelling them at all. Everyone on board the _Spera in Dio_ +was in hopes that the wind would increase when the moon rose, but the +sun went down far away in the offing, all shorn of its rays, and like +a huge ball of fire; then a slight haze arose, dimming the brightness +of the stars, casting over nature a faint, phosphorescent glimmer; +then they knew that the wind would not rise, for "the mist leaves the +weather as it finds it;" at least, the proverb says so. + +Already that afternoon the crew of the _Spera in Dio_ had seen the +waters of the sea--as far as eye could reach--bickering and +simmering; still, they knew that the slight shivering of the waters +was not produced by any ruffling wind, but by the glittering silver +scales of myriads of fish swimming on the surface of the smooth +waters. In fact, a flock of gulls was soon hovering and wheeling over +the main, uttering shrill cries of delight every time they dipped +within the brine and snatched an easy prey; then a number of dolphins +appeared from underneath, and began to plunge and gambol amidst the +shoal, feasting upon the fry. The fish, in a body, made for the +shore, hoping to find protection in shallower waters. Alas! a far +more powerful enemy was waiting for them there. + +Night came on; the fishermen lighted their resinous torches on the +prows of the boats, and the fish, attracted by the sheen, which +reflected itself down in the deep, dark water, were lured within the +double net spread out to catch them. + +When the shoal began to follow the deceptive light, the quiet waters +were struck with mighty, resounding thuds, and the terror-stricken +sardines swam hither and thither, helter-skelter, entangling +themselves within the meshes of that wall of netting spread out to +capture them. + +Thus the whole of that balmy summer night was passed in decoying and +frightening the shoal, in gathering it together, then in driving it +into the inlet where the nets were spread. + +At last, at early dawn, the long-awaited moment came. Every +fisherman, dumb with expectation, grasped the ropes of the net and +tugged with lusty sinews and a rare good-will. For the father, the +sustenance of his children at home lay in those nets; for the lover, +the produce of that first night's fishery would enable him to say +whether he could wed the girl he loves that year, or if the marriage +would have to be postponed till more propitious times. + +The strong men groaned under the weight they were heaving, but not a +word was spoken. Finally, the dripping nets were uplifted out of the +water. It was a rare sight to see the fish glistening like a mass of +molten silver within the brown meshes, just when the first +hyacinthine beams of the dawning sun fell upon their glossy, nacreous +scales. + +The captain and his two mates, the _pobratim_, rowed on shore and +took part in the general rejoicings, for nothing gladdens the heart +of man as abundance; moreover, they made a very good stroke of +business, for, having ready-money, they bought up, and thus secured, +part of their cargo for their return voyage. + +On the morrow, a fresh and steady breeze having begun to blow, the +lazy sails swelled out, the ship flew on the rippling waters, like a +white swan, and that very evening they dropped the anchor at Gravosa, +the port of Ragusa. + +How often the letter we have been so anxiously expecting only comes +to disappoint us, making us feel our sorrow more deeply. + +As soon as the post-office was opened, the _pobratim_ hurried there +to ask for letters. They both received several from their parents. +Uros read, with a sinking heart, what we already know, that Radonic +had killed Vranic, and that Milena was dangerously ill. Milenko +received a letter in a handwriting new to him. With a trembling hand +he tore open the envelope, unfolded the sheet of pale blue Bath +paper, containing an ounce of gold dust in it, and read the following +lines:-- + + +"Honoured Sir,--I take up my pen to keep the promise I so imprudently +made of writing to you, but this, which is the first, must also be +the last letter I ever pen. + +"Perhaps you will be angry with me, and think me inconstant, but +alas! this is not the case. Henceforth, I must never think of you, or +at least, only as a friend. It is not fated that we be man and wife, +and, as marriages are made in heaven, we must submit to what has been +decreed. + +"You must not think me heartless if I write to you in this way, but +the fact is, my father had--even before my birth--promised me in +marriage to the son of one of his friends, and this young man happens +to be your own friend and brother Uros. My only hope now is, that he, +as you hinted, being in love with someone else, will not insist upon +marrying me, or else I shall be the most wretched woman that ever +lived in this world. + +"My father, who is delighted with the marriage, for he has always +mistaken you for Uros, has already written to his old friend Bellacic +to remind him of his plighted word. Perhaps your friend will get his +father to write to mine, and explain the real state of things to him; +if not, I shall dearly regret the day you saved me from certain +death. + +"But why do I write all this to you. Perhaps, as the saying is: 'Far +from the eyes, far from the heart.' You have already forgotten the +wretched girl who owes her life to you, and must therefore love, +cherish, and ever be your most obedient servant, "IVANKA." + + +As poor Milenko read this letter, his cheeks grew pale, his heart +seemed to stop, he almost gasped for breath. He looked around; the +sky seemed to have grown dark, the world dreary, life a burden. Could +it be possible that, when the cup of happiness had touched his lips, +it would be snatched away from him and dashed down? + +The letter which he had read seemed to have muddled his brain. Was it +possible that the girl he loved so dearly was to marry his friend, +who did not care about her? and if she loved him, would she yield +tamely to her father's wish? Alas! what proper girl ever rebelled +against her father's decree? + +Milenko felt as if a hand of steel had been thrust within his breast, +gripped his heart and crushed it. + +All at once he was seized by a dreadful doubt. Did Uros know nothing +about all this, or was he conniving with his father to rob him of his +bride? He looked up at his friend, who was reading the letters he had +just received. The tidings they contained must have been far worse +than his own, for Uros' face was the very picture of despair. + +"What is the matter?" said Milenko; "bad news from home?" + +For all answer Uros handed the letter he had just been reading to his +friend; it was as follows:-- + + +"My dear Son,--The present lines are to inform you that we are both +well, your mother and myself, though, indeed, I have been suffering +with rheumatic pains in my right shoulder and in my left leg, as well +as occasional cramps in my stomach, for which the barber has cupped +me several times. As for your mother, she always suffers with sore +eyes, and though she tries to cure herself with vine-water and the +dew which the flowers distil on St. John's Eve, which is a specific, +as you know, still, it has not afforded her great relief. She is also +often ailing with a pain in her side; but these are only trifles. +Therefore, I hope that this letter will find you, Milenko and the +captain in as good health as that which we at present enjoy, and that +you have had a good and prosperous voyage. Here, at Budua, things are +always about the same. The weather has hitherto been very favourable +to the crops, and, with God's help, we must hope for a good harvest, +though the wind having blown down almost all the blossoms of the +almond-trees, there will be but little fruit. As for the vines, +little can be said as yet; whilst having had a good crop of olives +last year, we cannot expect much this autumn. + +"Our town is always very quiet. A fire only broke out here not long +ago, and it burnt down a few houses. As it was believed to have been +caused on account of a _karvarina_, bloodshed, as usual, ensued. +Another fact, which somewhat upset our town, was the death of Vranic, +who was found murdered in Radonic's house whilst Milena was spending +the evening with us. You may well understand how astonished every one +was, for Radonic and Vranic had been friends from their youth. +Although no one was ever very fond of Radonic, still nobody regretted +Vranic, who, as you know, was gifted with the evil eye; and although +I myself, not being superstitious, do not believe that persons can +harm you simply by looking at you, still it is useless to go against +facts. Poor Milena, who was the first to enter the house after the +murder--although your mother had accompanied her thither--was seized +by such a terrible fright that she remained soulless for many hours, +and has been ill ever since, though with care and good food we hope +to bring her round. + +"I was marvelled to hear how you fell in with the Giulianics, and +that your ship saved them from death. It is certainly a dispensation +of Providence, and--not being an infidel Turk--I do not see _Kismet_ +in everything that happens; still, the hand of the Almighty God is +clearly visible in all this. + +"Giulianic and I were friends when he, Markovic and myself were poor +folk, struggling hard to live and to put by a penny for a rainy day. +All three of us have, thank Heaven, succeeded beyond our +expectations, for I am glad to hear, by your account as well as his +own, that he is in such good circumstances. + +"One day--long before you were born--talking together and joking, we +made each other a kind of promise, more for the fun of the thing than +for anything else, that if we should have, the one a son, and the +other a daughter, we should marry them to each other. Not to forget +our promises, we exchanged tobacco-pouches. To tell you the truth, +not having heard of the Giulianics for so many years, I had all but +forgotten my promise, and I daresay he looked at his own pledge as a +kind of joke. On receiving your letter, however, I at once wrote to +this old friend, sending him back his gold-embroidered pouch and +redeeming mine. He at once wrote back a most affectionate letter, +saying that he was but too happy to give his daughter to the young +man who had saved Ivanka's life, but, apparently, had stolen away her +heart. Therefore, my dear son, you may henceforth consider yourself +engaged to the girl of your choice; and may the blessing of God and +of the holy Virgin rest on you both for ever. + +"Your mother wishes me to tell you not to forget your prayers morning +and evening, to try and keep all the fasts, and to light a candle to +St. Nicholas whenever you go on shore, so that he may keep you from +storms and shipwrecks. Besides, she bids me tell you, that if you +want more underclothing, to write to her in time, so that she may +prepare everything you need. + + "Your loving father, + + "Milos Bellacic." + + +Whilst Milenko was reading this letter, doubt returned several times +within his heart, and began to gnaw at it. As soon as he had +finished, he handed it back to Uros, and seeing his honest eyes fixed +upon him, as if asking for consolation, all doubts were at once +dispelled. + +"Well," said Uros, "it isn't enough to think that Milena is ill, but +all this complication must arise." + +"As for Milena," replied Milenko, "she is much better; here is a +letter from my mother, written after yours, in which she says that +she is quite out of danger." + +Comforted with the idea that the woman he loved was better, Uros +could not help smiling, then almost laughing. + +Milenko looked at him, astonished. + +"After all, this is your fault," said Uros. + +"Mine?" + +"Of course; you would insist in allowing old Giulianic to believe you +were myself; now there is only one thing left for you." + +"What?" + +"To act your part out." + +"I don't quite understand." + +"Go to Nona, and marry Ivanka at once; when married, Giulianic will +have to give you his blessing." + +"Oh! but----" + +"But what?" + +"I don't think Ivanka will consent." + +"If she loves you she will. I wish it was as easy for me to marry +Milena as it is for you to wed Ivanka." + +"But wouldn't it be better to get the father's consent?" + +"Old people are stubborn; once they get a thing into their heads, +it's difficult to get it out again." + +"Yes, but if----" + +"With 'buts' and 'ifs' you'll never marry." + +"What are you discussing?" said the captain, coming up. + +"Oh! I was simply saying that only a daring man deserves to wed the +girl he loves," said Uros. + +"Of course; don't you know the story of Prince Mathias?" + +"No," replied the young man. + +"Well, then, as we have nothing to do just now, listen, and I'll tell +it to you." + + +Once, in those long bygone times when rats fought with frogs, +tortoises ran races with hares and won them, pussies went about in +boots, and--I was going to add--women wore breeches, but, then, that +would not be such an extraordinary occurrence even now-a-days; well, +in those remote times, there lived a King who had a beautiful +daughter, as fair as the dawning sun, and as wise as an old rabbi +versed in the Kabala. In fact, she was so handsome and so learned +that her reputation had spread far and wide, and many a Prince had +come from far away beyond the sea to offer his hand and heart to this +wonderful Princess. She, however, would have none of them, for she +found that, although they--as a rule--rode like jockeys, drove like +cabmen and swore like carters, they were, on the whole, slow-coaches; +none of them, for instance, were good at repartee, none could discuss +German pessimism, and all--on the contrary--found that life was worth +living; so she would have nothing to do with them. + +She, therefore, send heralds to all the Courts of Chivalry to +proclaim that she would only wed the Prince who, for three successive +nights, could sit up and watch in her room, without falling asleep +and allowing her to escape. + +Every Prince who heard of the proclamation thought it a good joke, +and the candidates for the Princess's hand greatly increased. A host +of _Durchlauchten_ from the most sacred Protestant empire of Germany, +flocked--_Armen-reisender_ fashion--and offered to sit up in the +Princess's room for three nights, or even more if she desired it. + +Alas, for the poor Highnesses! every one paid the trial with his +life. The Princess--who knew a thing or two--provided for their +entertainment an unlimited supply of _Lager Bier_, and, moreover--it +was a cruel joke--she had a few pages read to them of the very book +each one had written, for, in those literary times, every Prince was +bound to write a book. At the end of the first chapter every Prince +snored. + +It happened that Prince Mathias--the only son and heir of a queen who +reigned in an out-of-the-way island, which was believed by its +inhabitants to be the centre of the world--heard of this strange +proclamation. He was the very flower of chivalry in those days, +strong as a bull, handsome as a stag--though rather inclined to be +corpulent--brave as a falcon, and as amorous as a cat in spring-time. +He at once resolved to risk his head, and go and spend the three +nights in the Princess's bedroom. + +His mother--a pious old lady, an excellent housekeeper, much attached +to her domestics, and known throughout the world as an elegant writer +of diaries--did her utmost to dissuade her son from his foolish +project; but all her wise remonstrances were in vain. Prince Mathias, +who was not the most dutiful of sons, allowed his mother to jaw away +till she was purple in the face, but her words went in by one ear and +out by the other; he remained steadfast to his purpose. Seeing at +last that praying and preaching were of no avail, Her Gracious +Majesty consented to her son's departure with royal grace. She doled +out to him a few ducats, stamped with her own effigy, and, knowing +his unthrifty ways, she said to herself: "He'll not go very far with +that." Then she presented him with a shawl to keep him warm at +nights, and she blessed him with her chubby hands, begging him to try +and keep out of mischief now that he had reached the years of +discretion. + +Mathias, wrapped up in his shawl, went off to seek his fortune. As he +was tramping along the high-road, he happened to meet a stout, +sleek-headed man who was lounging on the roadside. + +The Prince--who was very off-handed in his ways, and not very +particular as to the company he kept, or to the number of his +attachments, as the Opposition papers said--hailed the stout, +sleek-headed man. + +"Whither wanderest thou, my friend?" said Mathias to the loafer. + +"I tramp about the world in search of happiness," quoth he. + +"You're not a German philosopher, I hope?" asked the Prince, +terror-stricken. + +"I'm a true-born Dutchman, sir," retorted the loafer, with much +dignity. + +"Give us your paw," said His Highness. + +The friends shook hands. + +"What's your trade, my man?" + +"Well, I'm a kind of Jack-of-all-trades, without any trade in +particular--and yours?" + +"I'll be a kind of general overseer some day or other." + +"Good job?" + +"Used to be much better--too many strikes nowadays." + +"I see; it ruins the trade, does it?" + +"Our trade especially." + +"So?" + +"But what's your name?" asked the Prince. + +"Well, I'm generally known as 'The Big One.' You see, I can stretch +out my stomach to such a pitch that I can shelter a whole regiment of +soldiers in it. Shouldn't you like to see me do the trick?" + +"Swell away!" ejaculated the Prince. + +The Big One thereupon puffed and puffed himself out, and swelled +himself to such a pitch that he blocked up the highway from one side +to the other. + +"Bravo!" cried the Prince; "you're a swell!" + +"I'm a sell," said The Big One, smiling modestly. + +"A cell, indeed! But, I say, where did you learn that trick?" + +"Up in Thibet." + +"You're an adept, are you?" + +"I am," said the loafer. + +Mathias crossed himself devoutly. + +"I say, don't you want to accompany me in my wanderings, in a _sans +facon_ way?" + +"And take pot-luck with you?" said the adept, with a wink. + +Mathias took the hint. He jingled the few dollars he had in his +pocket, counted the six gold ducats his mamma had given him, and +reckoned the enormous amount of food his new friend might consume. On +the other hand, he bethought himself how useful a man who could +swallow a whole regiment might be in case of an insurrection; so he +shrugged his shoulders, and muttered to himself: + +"There'll be a row at the next meeting of the Witena-gemote, when my +debts 'll have to be paid; but if they want me to keep up appearances, +they must fork out the tin." Thereupon, turning to The Big One, he +added, magnificently: "It's a bargain." + +"You're a brick," said The Big One. + +On the morrow they met another tramp, so tall and so thin that he +looked like a huge asparagus, or like a walking minaret. His name was +The Long One; and he could, even without standing on tiptoe, lengthen +himself in such a way as to reach the clouds. Moreover, every step he +made was the distance of a mile. + +As he, too, was seeking his fortune, the Prince took him on in his +suite. + +The day after that, as the three were going through a wood, they came +across a man with such flashing eyes that he could light a +conflagration with only one of his glances. Of course, they took him +on with them. + +After tramping about for three days, they got to the castle where the +wonderful Princess lived. Mathias held a council with his friends, +and told them of his intentions. Then he changed his gold ducats, +pawned his mother's shawl, bought decent clothes for the tramps, and +made his entrance into the town with all the pomp and splendour due +to his rank. + +As he was travelling _incog._, he sent his card--a plain one without +crown or coat-of-arms--to the King of the place, announcing that he +had come with his followers to spend three nights in his daughter's +bedroom. + +"Followers not admitted," replied the King. + +"All right!" retorted the Prince, ruefully. + +"You know the terms, I suppose?" + +"Death or victory!" + +The King made him a long speech, terse and pithy, as royal speeches +usually are. The Prince, who listened with all attention, tried to +yawn without opening his mouth. + +"Yawn like a man!" said the King; "I don't mind it, do you?" said he +to the prime minister, who had written the speech. + +"I'm used to it," said the premier. + +"Well! do you persist in your intention?" asked the King at the end +of the speech. + +"I do!" quoth the Prince. + +"Then I'll light you up to my daughter's door." + +Having reached the landing of the second floor, the King shook hands +with the Prince and his followers; he wished them good-night; still, +he lingered for a while on the threshold. + +Mathias was dazzled with the superhuman beauty of the royal maiden, +who was quite a garden in herself, for she was as lithe as a lily, as +graceful as a waving bough, with a complexion like jasmines and +roses, eyes like forget-me-nots, a mouth like a cherry, breasts like +pomegranates, and as sweet a breath as mignonette. + +She could not hide the admiration she felt for Mathias, and +congratulated him especially on never having written a book. + +When the old King heard that Mathias was not an author, he was so +sorely troubled that he took up his candle and went off to bed. + +No sooner had His Majesty taken himself off than The Big One went and +crouched on the threshold of the door; The Long One made himself +comfortable on one of the window-sills; The Man with the Flashing +Eyes on the other. All three pretended to go off to sleep, but in +reality they were all watching the Princess, who was carrying on a +lively conversation with Mathias. + +"Do you like Schopenhauer?" asked the royal maiden, with a smile like +a peach blossom opening its petals to the breeze. + +"I like you," said Mathias, looking deep in the eyes of the young +girl, who at once blushed demurely. + +"But you don't answer my question," she said. + +"Well, no," quoth Mathias; "I don't like Schopenhauer." + +"Why not?" + +"Because we differ in tastes." + +"How so?" + +"You see, I'm rather fond of the girls; he isn't." + +"Of all girls?" asked the Princess, alarmed. + +"All girls in general, but you in particular," added Mathias with a +wink. + +The young girl thought it advisable to change the conversation. + +After a while the Princess began to yawn. + +"Sleepy, eh?" said Mathias, with a smile. + +"I feel as if a rain of poppies was weighing down my eyelids." + +"Have a snooze, then." + +"I'm afraid you'll feel rather lonely, sitting up by yourself all +night." + +"Oh! don't mind me," said Mathias; "I never turn in very early; +besides, I'll have a game of _patience_." + +"But I've got no cards to offer you," said the Princess. + +"I have; I never travel without a pack in my pocket." + +"You're sharp." + +"Sharper than many who think themselves sharp." + +Mathias settled himself comfortably at a table and began to play. The +Princess undressed, said her prayers, then went off to bed. + +The Prince played one, two, three games; then he felt his throat +rather dry, and would have given half of his kingdom for a glass of +grog; than he began to wonder if there was any whisky in the house. + +Just then, he heard the three men snoring, and the little Princess +purring away like a wee kitten. He stretched his arms and his legs, +for he felt himself getting stiff. He then tried to play another +game, but he could not go on with it; for he kept mistaking the +hearts for the diamonds, and then could no more distinguish the clubs +from the spades. He also began to feel chilly, and was sorry not to +have his mammy's shawl to wrap himself up in. He, therefore, laid his +elbows on the table, and his head between the palms of his hands, and +stared at the Princess, whom he fancied looked very much like the +sleeping beauty at the waxworks. + +Little by little his eyelids waxed heavy, his pupils got to be +smaller and smaller, his sight grew blurred, and then everything in +front of him disappeared. Prince Mathias was snoring majestically. + +"It took him a long time to drop off, but he's asleep at last," said +the Princess, with a sigh. + +She thereupon changed herself into the likeness of a dove, and flew +out of the window where The Long One was asleep. Only, on making her +escape, she happened to graze the sleeping man's hair. He forthwith +started up, and, seeing that the Princess's bed was empty, he at once +gave the alarm, and woke The Man with the Flashing Eyes, who cast a +long look in the darkness outside. That burning glance falling upon +the dove's wings singed them in such a way that she was obliged to +take shelter in a neighbouring tree. The Man with the Flashing Eyes +kept a sharp watch, and the splendour of his pupils, shining on the +bird, were like the revolving rays of a lighthouse. The Long One +thereupon put his head out of the window, stretched out his hand a +mile off, grasped the dove, and quietly handed her to Mathias. + +No sooner had Mathias pressed the dove to his heart than, lo and +behold! he found that he was clasping in his arms, not a bird, but +the Princess herself. + +Mathias could not help uttering a loud exclamation of surprise; the +three men uttered the selfsame exclamation. All at once the door of +the Princess's bedroom flew open with a bang. The old King appeared +on the threshold, with a dip in his hand. His Majesty looked very +much put out. + +"I say, what's all this row about?" said he; "billing and cooing at +this time of the night, eh?" Thereupon His Majesty frowned. + +The Princess nestled in Mathias's arms, blushing like a peony, for +she saw that the flowing sleeves of her nightgown were dreadfully +singed, and she knew that the colour would never go off in the wash. + +The King, casting a stealthy look round the room, saw the cards on +the little table by the Princess's bed, and pointing them out to +Mathias with a jerk of his thumb: + +"I see your little tricks, sir, and with your own cards, too; +gambling again, eh?" + +Mathis looked as sheepish as a child caught with his finger in a +jam-pot. The King thereupon snuffed the wick of his candle with his +own royal fingers, picked up the ermine-bordered train of his +night-gown and stalked off to bed, without even saying good-night +again. + +"Your father's put out," said Mathias to the Princess. + +"He's thinking of the expense you'll be putting him to, you and your +suite." + +"What! is he going to ask us to dinner?" + +"Can't help it, can he?" and the Princess chuckled. + +On the second night the Princess flew away in the likeness of a fly; +but she was soon brought back. On the third night she transformed +herself into a little fish, and gave the three men no end of trouble +to fish her out of the pond in which she had plunged. + +At last the Princess confessed herself vanquished. Mathias had been +the only one of all her suitors who had managed to get her back every +time she had escaped; moreover, she had been quite smitten by his +jovial character and convivial ways. + +The old King, however, strenuously disapproved of his daughter's +choice. Mathias was not a _Durchlaucht_, he had never written a book, +and, moreover, he played _patience_ with his own pack of cards. He, +therefore, resolved to oppose his daughter's marriage, and, being an +autocrat, his will was law in his own country. + +Mathias, however, presented the King with a packet of photographs +that he happened to have about him; they were all respectable ladies +of his acquaintance, belonging to different _corps de ballet_. So +while the King was trying to find out, with a magnifying-glass, what +Miss Mome Fromage had done with her other leg--like the tin soldier +in Andersen's tale--Mathias ran off with the Princess. + +Then the King got dreadfully angry and ordered his guards to run +after the fugitives. + +The Princess, hearing the tramp of horses' feet, asked The Man with +the Flashing Eyes to look round and see who was pursuing them. + +"I see a squadron of cavalry riding full speed," said The Man with +the Flashing Eyes. + +"It's my father's body-guard." + +"Hadn't we better hide in a bush, and leave them to ride on?" asked +Mathias. + +"No," replied the Princess. + +Seeing the horsemen approach, she took off the long veil she wore at +the back of her head, and threw it at them. + +"As many threads as there are in this veil, may as many trees arise +between us." + +In a twinkling, a dense forest arose, like a drop-scene, between the +fugitives and the guards. + +Mathias and his bride had not gone very far, when they heard again +the sound of horses. + +The Man with the Flashing Eyes looked round and saw again the King's +body-guard galloping after them. + +"Can you dodge them again?" asked Mathias. + +The Princess, for an answer, dropped a tear, and then bade it swell +into a deep river between them and their pursuers. + +The river rolled its massy waters through the plain, while Mathias +and his bride strolled away unmolested. + +Again they heard the sound of horses' hoofs; again the guards were +about to seize the runaways; again the Princess, drawing herself up +in all the majesty of her little person, stretched out her arm +threateningly, and ordered the darkness of the night to wrap them up +as with a deep shroud. + +At these words, The Long One grew longer and ever longer, until he +reached the clouds; then, taking off his cap, he deftly clapped it on +half of the sun's disc, leaving the royal guards quite in the shade. + +When Mathias and his bride were about ten miles off, The Long One +strode away and caught up with them after ten steps. + +Mathias was already in sight of his own castellated towers, when the +clatter of horses was again heard close behind them. + +"There'll be bloodshed soon," said the Prince to his bride. + +"Oh! now leave them all to me," said The Big One; "it's my turn now." + +The lovers, followed by The Long One and The Man with the Flashing +Eyes, entered the city by a postern, whilst The Big One squatted +himself down at the principal gate and puffed himself out; then he +opened his mouth as wide as the gate itself, so that it looked like a +barbican. Thus he waited for the dauntless life-guards, who, in fact, +came riding within his mouth as wildly as the noble six hundred had +ridden within the jaws of death. + +When the last one had disappeared, The Big One rose quietly, but at +the same time with some difficulty, and tottered right through the +town. It was an amusing sight to see his huge bloated paunch flap +hither and thither at every step he made. Having reached the opposite +gate, he again crouched down, opened his capacious mouth and spouted +out all the life-guards, horses and all; and it was funny to see them +ride off in a contrary direction, evidently hoping to overtake the +fugitives soon, whilst the Prince, his bride and his suite were on +the battlements, splitting with laughter at the trick played on their +pursuers. + +The old Queen was rejoiced to see her truant son come back so soon, +and, moreover, not looking at all as seedy as he usually did after his +little escapades. Still, she could not help showing her +dissatisfaction about two things. The first was that Mathias had +pawned her parting gift; the second that the Princess had come +without a veil. + +This last circumstance was, however, easily explained; and then Her +Most Gracious Majesty allowed the light of her countenance to shine +on her future daughter-in-law. + +The Long One was forthwith sent back to the old King, asking him, by +means of a parchment letter, to come and assist at his daughter's +wedding. His Majesty, hearing who Mathias really was, hastened to +accept the invitation. He donned his crown, took a few valuables with +him in a carpet-bag, fuming and fretting all the time at having to +start--like a tailless fox--without his body-guard. Just as he was +setting out, The Long One, stretching his neck a few miles above the +watch tower and looking round, saw the horsemen riding back full +speed towards the castle. The old King hearing this news, shook his +head, very much puzzled, for he could not understand how the +horsemen, who had ridden out by one gate, could be coming back by the +other. The Long One explained to the King (what they never would have +been able to explain themselves) that they had simply ridden round +the world and come back the other side. His Majesty, who would +otherwise have had all his guards put to death, forgave them right +graciously, and to show Mathias that he bore him no ill-will, he +presented him, as a wedding gift, with a valuable shawl he had just +got second-hand at a pawnbroker's. That gift quite mollified the old +Queen, and forthwith, as by enchantment, all the clouds looming on +the political horizon disappeared, and the nuptials of Mathias and +the Princess took place with unusual splendour. + +The Princess gave up her freaks of disappearing in the middle of the +night, Mathias never played _patience_ with his own cards any more, +and both set their people an example of conjugal virtue. + +High posts at Court were created for the Prince's three friends, and +they, indeed, often showed themselves remarkably useful. For +instance, if a Prime Minister ever showed himself obstreperous, The +Long One would stretch out his arm, catch him by the collar of his +coat, and put him for a few days on some dark cloud under which the +thunder was rumbling. If a meddling editor ever wrote an article +against the prevailing state of things, The Man with the Flashing +Eyes cast a look at his papers, and the fire brigade had a great ado +to put out the conflagration that ensued. If the people, dissatisfied +with peace and plenty, met in the parks to sing the Marseillaise, The +Big One had only to open his mouth and they at once all went off as +quietly as Sunday-school children, and all fell to singing the +National Anthem. Anarchy, therefore, was unknown in a land so well +governed, and flowing with milk and honey. + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +MANSLAUGHTER + + +The _Spera in Dio_ having reached Gravosa, it discharged the timber +it had taken for Ragusa, and loaded a valuable cargo of tobacco from +Trebigne in its stead. The ship was now lying at anchor, ready to set +sail with the fresh morning breeze. + +It was in the evening. The captain was in hopes to start on the +morrow; for at night it is a difficult task to steer a ship through +that maze of sunken rocks and jagged reefs met with all along the +entrance of the Val d'Ombla. + +The _pobratim_ had been talking together for some time. Uros had +tried to persuade his friend to go and marry Ivanka before the +mistake under which her father was labouring had been cleared up; but +the more the plan was discussed, the less was Milenko convinced +of its feasibility. + +Uros at last, feeling rather sleepy, threw himself into his hammock, +and soon afterwards closed his eyes. Milenko, instead, stood for some +time with his arms resting on the main-yard, smoking and thinking, +his eyes fixed on the moon, in its wane, now rising beyond the rocky +coast, from which the cypresses uplifted their dark spires, and the +flowering aloes reared their huge stalks. + +The warm breeze blew towards him a smell of orange blossoms from the +delightful Val d'Ombla, and the fragrancy of the Agnus castus, the +Cretan sage, and other balmy herbs and shrubs from that little Garden +of Eden--the Island of La Croma. Feeling that he could not go to +sleep, even if he tried, and finding the earth so fair, bathed as it +was now by the silvery light of the moon, he made up his mind to go +on shore and have a stroll along the strand. + +What made him leave the ship at that late hour, and go to roam on the +deserted shore? Surely one of those secret impulses of fate, of which +we are not masters. + +He had walked listlessly for some time on the road leading to Ragusa, +when he heard the loud, discordant sounds of two men, apparently +drunk, wrangling with each other. The men went on, then stopped +again, then once more resumed their walk; but, at every step they +made, their voices grew louder, their tones angrier. Both spoke Slav; +but, evidently, one of the two must have been a foreigner. Milenko +followed them, simply for the sake of doing something. When he got +nearer, he understood that the cause of the quarrel was not a woman, +as he had believed at first, but a sum of money which the Slav had +lent to the foreigner. + +As they kept repeating the selfsame things over and over, Milenko got +tired of their discussion and was about to turn back. Just then, +however, the two men stopped again. The Slav called the stranger a +thief, who in return apostrophised him as a dog of a Turk. From words +they now proceeded to blows; but, drunk as they apparently were, they +did not seem to hurt each other very much. Milenko hastened on to see +the struggle, for there is a latent instinct, even in the most +peaceable man's nature, that makes him enjoy seeing a fight. + +By the time Milenko came in sight of the two men, they had begun to +fight in real earnest; blows followed blows, kicks kicks; the Slav +--or rather, Turk--roused by the stranger's taunts, seemed to be +getting over his drunkenness. He was a tall, powerful man, and +Milenko saw him grip his adversary by his neck. Then the two men +grappled with each other, reeled in their struggle, then rolled down +on the ground. He heard the thud of their fall. Milenko hastened to +try and separate them. As he got nearer he could see them clearly, +for the light of the moon fell upon them. The stronger man was +holding his adversary pinned down, and was muttering the same curses +over and over again; but he did not seem to be ill-using him very +much. + +"Leave me alone," muttered the other, "or, by my faith, it'll be so +much the worse for you!" + +"Your faith! you have no faith, you dog of a giaour!" growled the +other. + +"I have no faith, have I? Well, then, here, if I have no faith!" + +Milenko, for a moment, saw a knife glitter in the moonlight, then it +disappeared. He heard at the same time a loud groan. He ran up to +help the man from being murdered, regardless of his own safety. + +The powerful man was trying to snatch the knife from his adversary's +hand, but, as he was unable to do so, he rose, holding his side, from +which the blood was rushing. + +"Now you'll have your money!" said the little man, with a hideous +laugh, and he lifted up his hand and stabbed his adversary +repeatedly. + +Milenko pulled out his own knife as he reached the spot, but he only +got in time to catch the dying man in his arms and to be covered with +his blood. + +The murderer simply looked at his adversary, and hearing him breathe +his last, "He's done for," he added; then he turned on his heels and +disappeared. + +Poor Milenko was stunned for a moment, as he heard the expiring man's +death-rattle. + +What could he do to help him? Was life ebbing? had it ebbed all away? +he asked himself. Was he dead, or only fainting? could he do nothing +to recall him to life? + +As he was lost in these thoughts he heard the heavy tramp of +approaching feet, and before he could realise the predicament in +which he had placed himself, the night-watch had come up to the spot +and had arrested him as the murderer. + +"Why do you arrest me?" said he. "I have only come here by chance to +help this poor man." + +"I daresay you have," said the sergeant, taking the blood-stained +dagger from his hand. + +"But I tell you I do not even know this poor man." + +"Come, it's useless arguing with us; you'll have to do that with your +judges. March on." + +"But when I tell you that I only heard a scuffle and ran up----" + +"Then where's the murderer?" asked one of the guards. + +"He's just run off." + +"What kind of a man was he?" + +"I hardly saw him." + +"And where do you come from?" asked the sergeant. + +"From on board my boat, the _Spera in Dio_, now lying at Gravosa." + +"And where were you going to?" + +"Nowhere." + +"Oh! you were taking a little stroll at this time of the night?" + +The men laughed. + +"Come, we're only wasting time----" + +"But----" + +"Stop talking; you'll have enough of that at Ragusa." + +"But I tell you I'm innocent of that man's death." + +"You are always innocent till you are about to be hanged, and even +then sometimes." + +Milenko shuddered. + +Thereupon the guards, taking out a piece of rope, began tying the +young man's hands behind his back. + +"Leave me free; I'll follow you. I've nothing on my conscience to +frighten me." + +Still, they would not listen to him, but led him away like a +murderer. They walked on for a little more than half-an-hour on the +dark road, and at last they arrived at Porta Pilla, one of the gates +of Ragusa. They crossed the principal street, called the Stradone, +and soon reached the Piazza dei Signori. The quiet town was quieter +than ever at these early dawning hours. The heavy steps of the guards +resounded on the large stone flags with which the town is paved, and +re-echoed from the granite walls of the churches and palaces. + +Poor Milenko was conducted to the guard-house, and when the sergeant +stated how he had been found clasping the dead man, holding, +moreover, the blood-stained dagger in his hand, he, without more ado, +was thrust into the narrow cell of the prison. + +Alone, in utter darkness, a terrible fear came over him. How could he +ever prove that he had not murdered the unknown man with whose blood +his clothes were soaked? + +The assassin was surely far away now, and, even if he were not, he +doubtless knew that another man had been caught in his stead, and he, +therefore, would either keep quiet or stealthily leave the town. If +he had at least caught a glimpse of the murderer's face, then he +might recognise him again; but he had seen little more than two dark +forms struggling together. Nothing else than that. + +Then he asked himself if God--if the good Virgin--would allow them to +condemn him to death innocently? He fell on his knees, crossed +himself, and uttered many prayers; but, during the whole time, he saw +his body hanging on the gallows, and, with that frightful sight +before his eyes, his prayers did not comfort him much. + +Then he began to fancy that he must have been guilty of some sin for +which he was now being punished. Though he recalled to mind all his +past life, though he magnified every little misdemeanour, still he +could not find anything worthy of such a punishment. He had kept all +the fasts; he had gone to church whenever he had been able to do so; +he had lighted a sufficient number of candles to the saints to secure +their protection. If, at times, he had been guilty of cursing, of +calling the blessed Virgin Mary opprobrious names, he only had done +so as a mere habit, as everybody else does, quite unintentionally. +The priest--at confession--had always admonished him against this bad +habit; but he had duly done penance for these trifling sins, and he +had got the absolution. + +He asked himself why he was so unlucky. He had not fallen in love +with his neighbour's wife, nor asked for impossible things. Why could +not life run on smoothly for him, as it did for everybody else? What +devil had prompted him to leave his ship at a time when he might have +been quietly asleep? Then the thought struck him that, after all, +this was only a bewildering dream, from which he would awake and +laugh at on the morrow. + +He got up, walked about his narrow cell, feeling his way in the +darkness. Alas! this was no dream. + +Then he thought of his parents; he pictured to himself the grief they +would feel at hearing of his misfortune. His mother's heart would +surely burst should he be found guilty and be condemned to be hanged. +And his father--would he, too, believe him to be a murderer? + +He again sank on his knees, and uttered a prayer; not the usual +litanies which he had been taught, but a _Kyrie Eleison_, a cry for +help rising from the innermost depths of his breast. + +The darkness of the prison was so oppressive that it seemed to him as +if his prayer could never go through those massive stone walls; +therefore, instead of being comforted, doubt and dread weighed +heavily upon him. In that mood he recalled to his mind all the +incidents of a gloomy story which had once been related to him about +a little Venetian baker-boy, who, like himself, had been found guilty +of manslaughter. This unfortunate youth had been imprisoned, cruelly +tortured, and then put to death. When it was too late, the real +murderer confessed his guilt; but then the poor boy was festering in +his grave. + +Still, he would not despair, for surely Uros must, on the morrow, +hear of his dreadful plight, and then he would use every possible and +impossible means to save him. + +But what if the ship started on the morrow, leaving him behind, a +stranger in an unknown town? + +The tears which had been gathering in his eyes began to roll down his +cheeks in big, burning drops, and now that they began to flow he +could not stop them any more. He crouched in a corner, and, as the +cold, grey gloaming light of early dawn crept through the grated +window of his cell, his heavy eyelids closed themselves at last; +sleep shed its soothing balm on his aching brain. + +Not long after Milenko had gone on shore, Uros woke suddenly from his +sleep. He had dreamt that a short, dark-haired, swarthy, one-eyed +man, with a face horribly pitted by small-pox, was murdering his +friend; and yet it was not Milenko either, but some one very much +like him. + +He jumped up, groped his way to his mate's hammock and was very much +astonished not to find him there. Having lost his sleep, he lit a +cigarette and went to look down into the waters below. The sea on +that side of the ship was as smooth and as dark as a black mirror. He +had not been gazing long when, as usual, he began to see sparks, then +fiery rods whirling about and chasing each other. The rods soon +changed into snakes of all sizes and colours, especially +greenish-blue and purple. They twirled and twisted into the most +fantastic shapes; then they all sank down in the waters and +disappeared. All this was nothing new; but, when they vanished, he +was startled to behold, in their stead, the face of the pitted man he +had just seen in his sleep stare at him viciously with his single +eye. He drew back, frightened, and the face vanished. After an +instant, he looked again; he saw nothing more, but the inky waters +seemed thick with blood. + +The next morning Milenko was looked for everywhere uselessly. Uros, +who was the last person that had seen him, related how he had gone +off to sleep and had left him leaning on the main-yard. At first, +every one thought that he had gone on shore for something, and that +he would be back presently; but time passed and Milenko did not make +his appearance. The wind was favourable, the sails were spread, they +had only to heave the anchor to start; everybody began to fear that +some accident had happened to him to detain him on shore. Uros was +continually haunted by his dream, especially by the face of the +single-eyed man. He offered to go in search of his friend. + +"Well," replied the captain, "I think I'll come with you; two'll find +him quicker than one alone, for now we have no time to lose." + +They went on shore and enquired at a coffee-house, but the sleepy +waiters could not give them any information. They asked some boatmen +lounging about the wharf, still with no better success. A porter from +Ragusa finally said that he had heard of a murder committed that +night on the road, but all the particulars were, as yet, unknown. +Doubtless it was a skirmish between some smugglers and the watch. + +Anyhow, when Uros heard of bloodshed, his heart sank within him, and +the image of the swarthy man appeared before the eyes of his mind, +and he fancied his friend weltering in a pool of dark blood. + +"Had we not better go at once to Ragusa? we might hear something +about him there?" said the captain to Uros. + +"But do you think he can have been murdered?" + +"Murdered? No; what a foolish idea! He had no money about him; he was +dressed like a common sailor; he could not have been flirting with +somebody's sweetheart. Why should he have been murdered?" + +The two men hired a gig and drove off at once. When they reached +Ragusa, they found the quiet town in a bustle on account of a murder +that had taken place on the roadside. The old counts and marquises of +the republic forgot their wonted dignity--forgot even their drawling +way of speaking--and questioned the barber, the apothecary, or the +watch at the town gate with unusual fluency. + +A murder on the road to Gravosa! A most unheard-of thing. Soon people +would be murdered within the very walls of the town! Such things had +never happened in the good olden times! + +"And who was the murdered man?" asked one. + +"A stranger." + +"And the murderer?" + +"A stranger, too; a mere boy, they say." + +"Oh! that explains matters," added a grave personage; "but if +strangers will murder each other, why do they not stay at home and +slaughter themselves?" + +Such were the snatches of conversation Uros and the captain heard on +alighting at Porta Pilla; and as they asked their way to the police +station, everybody stared at them, and felt sure that in some way or +other they were connected with the murder. + +At the police station, the captain stated how his mate had +disappeared from on board, and asked permission to see the murdered +man. They were forthwith led to the mortuary-chapel, and they were +glad to see that the corpse was a perfect stranger. + +"What kind of a person is the young man you are looking for?" asked +the guard who had accompanied them. + +"Rather above the middle height, slim but muscular, with greyish-blue +eyes, a straight nose, a square chin, curly hair, and a small dark +moustache." + +"And dressed like a sailor?" + +"Yes." + +"Exactly as you are?" said he to Uros. + +"Yes; have you seen him?" + +"Why, yes; he is the murderer." + +Uros shuddered; the captain laughed. + +"There must be some mistake," said the latter. "You have arrested the +wrong person; such things do happen occasionally." + +"He was arrested while struggling with the man he killed. He was not +only all dripping with blood, but he still held his dagger in his +hand." + +"With all that, it's some mistake; for he didn't know this man," said +the captain, pointing to the corpse stretched out before them. "If he +did kill him, then it was done in self-defence." + +"But where is he now?" asked Uros. + +"Why, in prison, of course." + +Uros shuddered again. + +"We can see him, can't we?" said the captain. + +"You must apply to the authorities." + +The departure of the _Spera in Dio_ had to be put off for some days. +Uros went on board the ship, whilst the captain remained at Ragusa to +look after his lost mate. There he soon found out that, in fact, it +was Milenko who had been arrested; and after a good deal of trouble +he succeeded in seeing him. + +Although he did his best to comfort him and assure him that in a few +days the real murderer would be found, he could not help thinking +that the evidence was dead against him. Anyhow, he had him +transferred to a better cell, and, by dint of _backseesh_, saw that +his bodily comforts were duly attended to. + +On the following day, the captain, Uros and the crew were examined; +and all were of opinion that Milenko could not possibly ever have +been acquainted with the unknown man, and, therefore, had no possible +reason for taking away his life. The great difficulty, meanwhile, was +to find out who the murdered man really was, from where he had come, +whither he was going in the middle of the night. + +After that, the captain went to a lawyer's; and having put the whole +affair in his hands, found out that he could do nothing more for +Milenko than he had already done; so he went and lit a candle for his +sake, recommended him to the mercy of the Virgin and good St. +Nicholas, and decided to start on the following morning, without any +further and unprofitable delay. Had the young man been his own son, +he would not have acted otherwise. Uros, however, decided to remain +behind, and join the ship at Trieste after a few days. + +On the morrow Uros, after having seen the _Spera in Dio_ disappear, +went to spend a few hours with his friend. A week passed in this way; +then, not knowing in what way to help Milenko, he bethought himself +to seek the aid of some old woman versed in occult lore, in whose +wisdom he had much more faith than in the wordy learning of gossiping +lawyers. + +Having succeeded in hearing of such a one from the inn-keeper's wife, +he went to her at once and explained what he wanted of her. + +She looked at him steadily for a while; then she went to an old chest +and took out a quaint little mirror of dark, burnished metal, and +making him sit in a corner, bade him look steadily within it. As soon +as he was seated, she took a piece of black cloth, like a pall, and +stretched it around him, screening him from every eye. Having done +this, she threw some powder on the fire, which, burning, filled the +room with fragrant smoke, or rather, with white vapour, which had a +heady smell of roses. After a few moments of silence, she took the +_guzla_ and played, as a kind of prelude, a pathetic, dirge-like +melody; then she began to sing in a low, lamentable tone, Vuk +Stefanovic Karadzic's song, entitled-- + + +GOD'S JUSTICE. + + Upon a lonely mead two pine-trees grew, + And 'twixt the two a lowly willow-tree; + No pines were those upon the lonely mead, + Where nightly winds e'er whistle words of woe. + The one was Radislav--a warrior brave; + Whilst Janko was the other stately tree. + They were two brothers, fond of heart and true; + The weeping willow-tree that rose between + Had whilom been their sister Jelina. + Both brothers loved the maid so fair and good, + Fair as a snow-white lily fresh with dew, + And good, I ween, as a white turtle-dove. + Once Janko to his sister gave a gift; + It was a dagger with a blade of gold. + That day Marija, who was Janko's wife + (A wanton woman with a wicked heart), + Grew grey and green with envy and with grudge, + And to Zorizza, Radislavo's wife, + She said: "Pray tell me in what way must I + Get these two men to hate that Jelina, + Whom they love more, indeed, than you or me." + "I know not," said Zorizza, who was good-- + Aye, good indeed, and sweet as home-made bread; + "And if I knew, I should pray day and night + For God to keep me from so foul a deed." + Marija wended then her way alone, + And as her head was full of fiendish thoughts, + She saw upon the mead her husband's foal, + The fleetest-footed filly of the place. + Whilst with one hand she fondled the young foal, + The other plunged a dagger in her breast; + Then, taking God as witness, swore aloud + That Jelina had done that deed of blood. + With doleful voice the brother asked the girl + What made her mar the foal he loved so well. + Upon her soul the maiden took an oath + That she nowise had done that noxious deed. + A few days later, on a dreary night, + Marija went and killed the falcon grey-- + The swiftest bird, well worth its weight in gold. + Then creeping back to bed, with loud outcry + She woke the house; she said that, in a dream, + She saw her Janko's sister, as a witch, + Kill that grey falcon Janko loved so well. + Behold! at early morn the bird was dead. + "This cruel deed shall rest upon thy head," + Said Janko to the girl, who stood amazed. + E'en after this Marija found no peace, + But hated Jelina far more than death, + So evermore she pondered how she could + Bring dire destruction down upon the maid. + One night, with stealthy steps, she went and stole + The golden-bladed knife from Jelka's room; + And with the knife she stabbed her only babe. + The foul deed done, she put the knife beneath + The pillow white whereon lay Jelka's head. + At early twilight, when the husband woke, + He found his rosy babe stabbed through the breast, + All livid pale within a pool of blood. + Marija tore her hair and scratched her cheeks + With feigned despair; she vowed to kill the witch + Who wantonly had stabbed her precious babe. + "But who has done this cruel, craven crime? + Who killed my child?" cried Janko, mad with rage. + "Go seek thy sister's knife, with golden blade; + Forsooth, 'tis stained with blood." And Janko went, + And found that Jelka still was fast asleep, + But 'neath her pillow, peeping out, he saw-- + All stained with blood--the knife with golden blade. + He grasped his sleeping sister by her throat, + Accusing her of having killed his child. + And she--now startled in her morning sleep-- + Midst sighs and sobs disowned the dreadful deed; + Still, when she saw the knife all stained with gore, + She grew all grey with fear and looked aghast, + And guilty-like, before that gruesome sight. + "An I have done this horrid, heinous deed, + Then I deserve to die a dreadful death. + If thou canst think that I have killed thy child, + Then take and tie me to thy horses' tails, + So that they tread me down beneath their hoofs." + The maid was led within the lonely mead, + Her limbs were bound unto the stallions' tails; + They lashed the horses, that soon reared and ran + Apart, and thus they tore her limbs in twain. + But lo! where'er her blood fell down in drops, + Sweet sage grew forth, and marjoram and thyme, + And fragrant basil, sweetest of all herbs; + But on the spot where dropped her mangled corse, + A bruised and shapeless mass of bleeding flesh, + A stately church arose from out the earth, + Of dazzling marbles gemmed with precious stones-- + A wondrous chapel built by hallowed hands. + Marija, then, upon that day fell ill, + And nine long years she languished on her bed, + A death in life, still far more dead than quick; + And as she lay there 'twixt her skin and bones + The coarse and rank weeds grew, and 'midst the weeds + There nestled scorpions, snakes, and loathsome worms, + Which crept and sucked the tears from out her eyes. + In those last throes of death she wailed aloud, + And bade for mercy's sake that they might take + And lay her in that church which had sprung out + Where Jelka's body dropped a mangled corpse. + In fact, her only hope was to atone + For all those dreadful deeds which she had done. + But when they reached the threshold of the church, + A low and hollow voice came from the shrine, + And all who heard the sound were sore amazed. + "Avaunt from here! Till God forgive thy crimes, + This sacred ground is sure no place for thee." + Appalled to death, unable yet to die, + She begged them as a boon that they would tie + Her to the horses' tails, for dying thus she hoped + That God might then have mercy on her soul. + They bound her wasted limbs to stallions' tails; + Her bones were broke, her limbs were wrenched in twain, + And where the sods sucked up her blood impure, + The earth did yawn, and out of that wide gulf + Dark waters slowly rose and spread around; + Still, lifeless waters, like a lake of hell. + Within the mere the murdered foal was seen, + Just as we see a vision in a dream. + The falcon grey then flew with fluttering wing, + And panting, fell within that inky pool. + Then from the eddy rose a tiny cot. + Within that cot a rosy infant slept, + And smiled as if it saw its mother's breast. + But lo! its mother's claw-like hand arose + Out of the stagnant waters of the lake, + And plunged a dagger in the infant's breast. + + +The old woman, having finished her song, waited for a while till the +young man looked up. + +Presently, Uros, with a deep sigh, lifted his eyes towards her. + +"Always the same man, with that fiendish face of his," quoth he, +shaking his head. + +"But tell me what you have seen now, that I might help you--if I +can." + +"That man, who has been haunting me all these days." + +"Explain yourself better; did you only see his face, now?" + +Uros first explained to the _baornitza_ what he had witnessed in the +sea the night when Milenko was arrested for murder. + +"Have you often seen such things in the sea before?" + +"From my earliest childhood, and almost every time I looked; very +often Milenko and I saw the very same things." + +"But are you sure you never saw the face before?" + +"Oh! quite sure." + +"Now, tell me minutely what you have seen in the glass." + +"First the mirror grew hazy, just as if clouds were flitting over it; +then, little by little, it got to be more transparent, and of a +silvery, glassy grey. After that it grew greenish, and I could +distinguish down within its depths a beautiful landscape. It was a +country road seen by night; the moon was rising behind the hills at a +distance, and presently the trees, the rocks, the road, were clearer. +All at once two men were seen walking on the way. I could not see +their faces, for I was behind them; still, I was sure who the shorter +man was. They walked on and disappeared, but then I saw one of them +come running back. I was not mistaken; it was the man with the single +eye. His was, indeed, the face of a fiend. + +"He must have been running for some time, for he was panting, nay, +gasping for breath. He stopped, looked over his shoulder, then threw +the knife he was holding within a bush. It was a bush with silvery +leaves, and all covered with flowers. He then wiped his wet hands on +the leaves of the shrub, on the scanty grass, then rubbed them with +the sandy earth to remove all the traces of the blood. This done, he +again took to his heels and disappeared." + +"And that is all you saw?" + +"No! the mirror resumed again its real, dark colour, but, as I +continued looking within it, hoping to see something more, I saw it +turn again milky-white; then of a strong grass green, and, in the +midst of that glaring green paint, I had a glimpse of a Turkish flag; +then, as the red flag vanished, I beheld two words cut out and +painted in white in that garish green background. Those mysterious +words remained for some time; then they vanished, and I saw nothing +more." + +"Those words were in Turkish characters, were they not?" + +"No; some of them were like ours, but not all." + +"Then they must have been either Cyrillic or Greek; but, tell me, are +you quite sure you never saw those words before?" + +"Oh! quite, they were so strange." + +"You know, we happen sometimes to see things without noticing them, +even strange things. Then these objects, of which we seem to have no +knowledge, come back to us in our dreams, or when we gaze within a +mirror; so it may be that you have seen that face and those words +absently, with your eyes only, whilst your mind took no notice of +them." + +"I don't think so." + +"You may think otherwise in a few days. But let's see; you know where +the murder took place, don't you?" + +"Yes." + +"Well, the two men were, apparently, coming from Gravosa and going up +to Ragusa. Now, the spot where the shorter one stopped must have been +five, ten or fifteen minutes from the spot." + +"I daresay a quarter of an hour. Sailors are not accustomed to run; +besides, that man is not very young." + +"How do you know he is a sailor?" + +"By his dress; and a Greek sailor, besides. He wore a dark blue +flannel shirt, a white belt or sash, and those rough, yellow +home-spun trowsers which they alone wear." + +"Then probably the two words you saw were Greek. Now, the first thing +to be found is the knife; the second, and far more important fact, is +the meaning of those words. Are you sure not to forget them? Can you, +perhaps, write them down?" + +"I'll never forget them as long as I live; they are engraven in my +mind." + +"Then go and look for the knife. Come back to me to-morrow; perhaps I +may be of further help to you, that is, if you need more help." + +Uros thanked the old woman, and then asked her where she had learnt +all the wonderful things she knew. + +"From my own mother. Once a trade was in one family for ages; every +generation transmitted its secrets with its implements to the other. +It is true, people only knew one thing; but they knew it thoroughly. +Nowadays, young people are expected to have a smattering of +everything; but the sum of all their knowledge often amounts to +nothing." + +Uros, taking leave of the wise old woman, went down the road leading +from Porta Pilla to the sea. Soon he came to the spot where Milenko +had been found clasping the murdered man in his arms. Then he looked +at every tree, at every stone he passed on his way. After a while, he +got to the corner where he had seen--in the mirror--the two men +disappear. From there he crawled on, rather than walked, so that not +a pebble of the road escaped his notice. After about a quarter of an +hour, he came to a shrub of a dusty, greyish green--it was an _Agnus +castus_ in full bloom. He recognised it at once; it was the bush that +had looked so silvery by the light of the moon within the magic +mirror. His heart began to beat violently. As he looked round, he +fancied he would see the murderer start from behind some tree and +pounce upon him. He looked at the shrub carefully; some of its lower +branches and the tops of many twigs were broken. He pushed the leaves +aside, and searched within it. The knife was there. He did not see it +at first; for its haft was almost the same colour as the roots of the +tree, and the point of the knife was sticking in the earth. He took +it up and examined it. All the part of the blade that had not been +plunged in the earth was stained with blood. It was a common knife, +one of those that all sailors wear in their belts. He put it in the +breast pocket of his coat, and walked down with long strides. He was +but a few steps from the shore. + +Reason prompted him now to go to the police and give them the knife; +for it might lead to the discovery of the culprit. Still, this was +only a second thought--and Uros seldom yielded to practical +after-thoughts; and whenever he did so, he always regretted it. + +He had not a great idea of the police. They were only good to write +things down on paper, making what they called protocols, which +complicated everything. + +No; it was far better to act for himself, and only apply for help to +the police when he could have the murderer arrested. + +As he got down to the shore the sun was sinking below the horizon; +the silvery waters of the main were now being transmuted into +vaporous gold. As he was looking at the sea and sky, from a +meteorological, sailor-like point of view, and wondering whereabouts +the _Spera in Dio_ was just then, his eyes fell upon a little skiff, +which had arrived a few days after they had. It was a Turkish caique, +painted in bright prasine green. He had seen it for days when his own +ship was loading and unloading, but then it had had nothing +particular to attract his attention; he had seen hundreds of these +barques in the East. Now, however, he could not help being struck by +its vivid green colour. He looked up; the red flag with the half-moon +met his eyes. He had but time to see it, when it disappeared, for the +sun had set. + +How his heart began to beat! Surely the murderer was on board. He +strained his eyes to see the name of the ship, painted on either +side, but he could not distinguish it so far. Not a man was seen on +deck; the skiff seemed deserted. + +A boy was fishing in a boat near there; he called him and asked him +to lend him the boat for an instant. + +"What! do you want to fish, too?" asked the boy, pulling up. + +"No; I'd like to see the name of that caique." + +After two or three good strokes with the oars, Uros could see the +name plainly; it was _Panagia_, exactly the name he had read in the +mirror. + +"Is that the ship you are looking for?" + +"The very same one." + +"Do you want to go on board?" + +"Yes; I'd like to see the captain." + +As soon as he was by the side of the caique he called out "_Patria!_" +for this is the name by which Greek sailors are usually addressed. + +Some one got up at the summons. It was not the single-eyed man that +Uros was expecting to see, but a handsome, dark-eyed, shock-headed +young fellow. + +"Is the captain on board?" + +The youth tossed up his head negatively and said some words, but the +only one that Uros understood was _Caffene_. + +As soon as Uros jumped on shore he went off to the coffee-house by +the pier, the only one at Gravosa. There were only a few seamen +smoking and sipping black coffee, but the person he wanted was not +amongst them. + +"Do you wish to be taken on board his craft?" asked a kind of +ship-broker, hearing that Uros was asking about the Greek captain. + +A few hours before he would simply have answered negatively. Now, as +he wanted to hear more of the ship and its crew, he asked: + +"Is it the Greek captain whose caique is lying just outside?" + +"Yes; the one painted in green." + +"Where is he?" + +"Just gone up to town. Are you going to Ragusa?" + +"Yes." + +"Well, as I'm going up too, I'll come with you." + +An hour afterwards Uros was duly introduced to the man he had been +looking for. + +The captain's first question was why Uros had remained behind, and as +the young man was anxious to lead the conversation about the murder, +he gave all the details about Milenko's arrest, and the reason why he +himself had not started with his ship. + +"What!" asked Uros, "you haven't heard of the murder?" + +"No," replied Captain Panajotti; "you see, I only speak Greek and a +little of the _lingua Franca_, so it is difficult to understand the +people here." + +"But how is it you happen to be wanting hands? You Greeks only have +sailors of your own country." + +"I've been very unfortunate this trip. One of my men has a whitlow in +the palm of his hand; another, a Slav, came with me this trip, but +only on condition of being allowed to go to his country while the +ship was loading and unloading----" + +"Well?" asked Uros, eagerly. + +"He went off and never came back." + +"Are you sure he was a Slav, and not a Turk?" + +"We, on board, spoke to him in Turkish, because he knew the language +like a Turk, but he was a Christian for all that; his country is +somewhere in the interior, not far from here. Now another of my men +has fallen ill----" + +"The man with the one eye?" + +"What! you know Vassili?" asked the captain, with a smile. "Yes, he's +ill." + +"What's the matter with him?" + +"I really don't know; he's lying down, skulking in a hole; the devil +take him." + +"Since when?" + +"Ten days, I think." + +"But is he really ill?" + +"He says he is; but why do you ask--do you know him?" + +"I'll be straightforward with you," said Uros, looking the captain +full in the eyes. "I think the murdered man is the Slav who left your +ship ten days ago." + +"You don't say so!" exclaimed the captain, astonished and grieved. + +"I believe so." + +"The one for whose murder your friend was arrested?" + +"Exactly." + +"Strange--very strange," said the captain, who had taken off his +shoe and was rubbing his stockinged foot, "and the murderer?" + +"The man who has been ill ever since." + +"Vassili?" + +"You've said it." + +"But have you any proofs?" + +"I have." + +"Then why did you not get him arrested?" + +"I'll do so to-morrow." + +"And if you can prove your friend's innocence----" + +"We'll sail with you to Zara, my friend and I, if you'll have us, and +find you two other able-bodied seamen to take our place." + +"But, remember, I'll not help you in any way to have a man on board +my ship arrested." + +"No, I don't ask you to do so." + +"I believe he's a fiend; still, he's a fellow-countryman of mine." + +The two men thereupon shook hands and separated. + +Uros went to the police, and, after a great ado, he managed to find +one of the directors. + +"What do you want?" said the officer, cross at being disturbed out of +office hours. + +"I've found the murderer at last," replied Uros. + +"And what murderer, pray? Do you think there's only one murderer in +the world?" + +Uros explained himself. + +"And who is he?" + +"A certain Vassili, a Greek, on board a caique now lying at Gravosa." + +"And how have you found out that he is the murderer, when we know +nothing about it?" + +"By intuition." + +"Well, but you don't expect us to go about arresting people on +intuition, do you?" asked the officer, huffishly. + +Uros proceeded to relate all he knew; then he produced the knife +which he had found. + +"Well, there is some ground to your intuition; and if the murdered +man happens to be the Slav sailor who disappeared from on board the +ship you speak of, well, then, there is some probability that this +one-eyed man is the murderer." + +"Anyhow, could you give orders for the ship to be watched to-night?" + +"Yes, I can do that." + +"At once?" + +"You are rather exacting, young man." + +"Think of my friend, who has been in prison ten days----" + +"I'll give orders at once. There, are you satisfied now?" + +"Thank you." + +Uros, frightened lest the murderer might escape, hastened down to +Gravosa to keep watch on the caique. On his way thither he stopped at +a baker's shop and bought some bread, as he had been fasting for many +hours. Having got down to the shore, he eat his bread, had a glass of +water and a cup of black coffee at the coffee-house, lit a cigarette, +and then went to stretch himself down on a boat drawn up on the sand, +from where he could see anyone who came out of the Greek ship. + +Although there was no moon, still the air was so clear, and the stars +shone so brightly, that the sky was of a deep transparent blue, and +the night was anything but black. A number of little noises were +heard, especially the many insects that awake and begin to chirp when +all the birds are hushed. One of them near him was breathing in a +see-saw, drilling tone, whilst another kept syncopating this song +with a sharp and shrill _tsit, tsit_. In some farmyard, far off, the +growl of an old dog was occasionally heard in the distance, like a +bass-viol; but the pleasantest of all these noises was the plap-plap +of the wavelets lapping the soft sand. + +Presently, a custom-house guard came and sat down near Uros, and they +began talking together; and then time passed a little quicker. + +It must have been about half-past one when Uros saw a man quietly +lower himself down from the caique into the sea, and make for the +shore. He must have swum with one hand, for his other was holding a +bundle of clothes on his head. Uros pointed out the swimming figure +to the guard, who at once sprang up and ran to the edge of the shore. +The man, startled, veered and swam farther off. The watchman +whistled, and another guard appeared at fifty paces from there. The +man jerked himself round, evidently intending to go back to his ship; +but Uros, who was on the alert, had already pushed into the sea the +boat on which he had been stretched, and began paddling with a board +which was lying within it. + +The man, evidently thinking that Uros was a custom-house officer, +seeing now that he could not get back on board, put on a bold face +and swam once more towards the shore, whither Uros followed him. Three +custom-house guards had come up together, and were waiting for him to +step out of the water. Uros landed almost at once, and pushing the +boat on the sand, turned round and found himself face to face with +the dripping, naked figure. It was the fiendish, pitted, single-eyed +man he had seen in his visions. He was by no means startled at seeing +him; for he would have been astonished, indeed, if it had been +someone else. + +Uros, grasping him by one of his arms and holding him fast for fear +he might escape, exclaimed: "That's the man!--that's the murderer!" + +"Leave him," said the watchman; "if he tries to escape he's dead." + +"Oh! but I don't want him dead; do what you like with him, but don't +kill him; tie him up, cut off his legs and his arms, but spare his +life until he has confessed." + +The guards gave another shrill whistle, and presently the policemen +came running up. + +The naked man, who did not know a word of Slav, and only very little +Italian, was taking his oath in Greek that he was no smuggler. He at +once opened his bundle, wrapped up in an oil-cloth jacket, and showed +the guards that there was nothing in it but a few clothes. The Greek +sailor was ordered to dress himself; then the policemen handcuffed +him and led him off to the station, where Uros followed him. + +On the morrow the Greek captain was sent for, and he stated that, +having accused Vassili--who, for ten days, had been shamming +illness--of having murdered the Slav, this sailor had threatened him +to go to the Greek consulate on the morrow. The guilty man, however, +had, on second thoughts, deemed it more advisable to seek his safety +in flight, little thinking to what danger he was exposing himself. +The knife was produced and identified as having belonged to the +prisoner; then, being confronted with Milenko, who at once recognised +him as the murderer, he--overwhelmed by so many damning proofs +--confessed his guilt and pleaded for mercy, saying that he had only +killed his antagonist in self-defence. + +Milenko's innocence being thus proclaimed, he was at once set free, +whilst Uros was heartily congratulated on his intuition, and the +officer who had snubbed him the evening before, strongly advised him +to leave the sea and become a detective, for if he had the same skill +in finding the traces of criminals as he had displayed in this case, +he would soon became a most valuable officer, whilst Milenko was told +that he ought to think himself fortunate in having such a friend. + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +MARGARET OF LOPUD + + +Though the _pobratim_ would have sailed with any ship rather than +with the ill-fated green caique, still Uros had pledged his word to +the Greek captain to go with him as far as Zara or Trieste, and, +moreover, there was no other vessel sailing just then for either of +these ports, and they were both anxious to catch up with the _Spera +in Dio_ without further delay. The Greek captain, likewise--out of a +kind of superstitious dread--would have preferred any other sailors +to these two young men; still, as Dalmatians only sail with their own +fellow-countrymen and never on Greek crafts, it was no easy matter to +find two able-bodied men to go only for a short trip, for those were +times when sailors were not as plentiful, nor ships so scarce, as +they are now. + +On the day after the one on which Milenko was set free, the +_pobratim_ set sail with the little caique, and they, as well as the +captain, were thoroughly glad to shake the dust off their shoes on +leaving Gravosa; Milenko especially hoped never to set his foot in +Ragusa again. + +The fresh breeze swelled out the broad white sails of the graceful +little ship, which flew as fleetly as a halcyon, steered, as it was, +with utmost care, in and out the narrow channels and through that +archipelago of volcanic rocks which surround the Elaphite Islands, so +dangerous to seamen. It soon left far behind the graceful mimosas, +the dark cypress-trees and the feathery palms of the Ragusean coast. + +After all the anxiety of the last days it was pleasant to be again on +those blue waters, so limpid that the red fretted weeds could be seen +growing on the grey rocks several fathoms below. It was a delight to +breathe the balmy air, wafted across that little scented garden of La +Croma. The world looked once more so beautiful, and life was again a +pleasure. The sufferings the _pobratim_ had undergone only served to +render them fonder of each other, so that if they had been twins--not +only brothers--they could not have loved each other more than they +did. + +The sun went down, and soon afterwards the golden bow of the new moon +was seen floating in the hyacinthine sky. At the sight of that +slender aureate crescent--which always awakens in the mind of man a +vision of a chaste and graceful maiden--all the crew crossed +themselves and were happy to think that the past was dead and gone, +for the new moon brings new fortune to mortals. + +A frugal supper of salted cheese, fruit and olives gathered all the +men together, and then those who were not keeping watch were about to +retire, when a small fishing-boat with a lighted torch at its prow +was seen not very far off. As it came nearer to them the light went +out, and the dark boat, with two gaunt figures at the oars, was seen +for an instant wrapped in a funereal darkness, and then all vanished. +The _pobratim_ crossed themselves, shuddering, and Milenko whispered +something to Uros in Slav, who nodded without speaking. + +"What is it?" asked the captain, astonished. + +"It is the phantom fishing-boat," replied Uros, almost below his +breath, apparently unwilling to utter these words, and Milenko added: + +"It is seen on the first days of the new moon, as soon as darkness +comes over the waters." + +For a few moments everybody was silent. All looked towards the spot +where the boat had disappeared, and then the captain asked Milenko +who those two men were, and why they were condemned to ply their +oars, and thereupon Milenko began to relate the story of + + +MARGARET OF LOPUD. + +Some centuries ago, during the great days of the Republic, there +lived a young patrician whose name was Theodor. He belonged to one of +the wealthiest and oldest families of Ragusa, his father having been +rector of the Commonwealth. Theodor was of a most serious +disposition, possessing uncommon talents, and, therefore, taking no +delight in the frivolities of his age. His learning was such that he +was expected to become one of the glories of his native town. + +Theodor, to flee from the bustle and mirth of the capital and to give +himself entirely up to his studies, had taken up his abode in the +Benedictine convent on the little island of St. Andrea. + +Once he went to visit the island of Lopud--the middle one of the +Elaphite group--and there passed the day; but in the evening, wishing +to return to the brotherhood, he could not find his boat on the +shore. Wandering on the beach, he happened to meet a young girl +carrying home some baskets of fish. Theodor, stopping her, asked her, +shyly, if she knew of anyone who would take him in his boat across to +the island of St. Andrea. No, the young girl knew nobody, for the +fishermen who had come back home were all very tired with their hard +day's work; they were now smoking their pipes. Seeing Theodor's +disappointed look, the young girl proffered her services, which the +bashful patrician reluctantly accepted. + +The sail was unfurled and managed with a strong and skilful hand; the +boat went scudding over the waves like an albatross; the breeze was +steady, and the sea quiet. The girl steered through the reefs like a +pilot. + +Those two human beings in the fishing-smack formed a strong contrast +to one another. He, the aristocratic scion of a highly cultured race, +pale with long study and nightly vigils, looked like a tenderly +reared hot-house plant. She, belonging to a sturdy race of fishermen, +tanned by the rays of the scorching sun and the exhilarating surf, +was the very picture of a wild flower in full bloom. + +Theodor, having got over the diffidence with which women usually +inspired him, began to talk to the young girl; he questioned her +about her house, her family, her way of living. She told him simply, +artlessly, that she was an orphan; the hungry waves--that yearly +devour so many fishermen's lives--had swallowed up her father; not +long after this misfortune her mother died. Since that time she had +lived with her three brothers, who, she said, took great care of her. +She kept house for them, she cooked, she baked bread, she also helped +them to repair their nets, which were always tearing. Sometimes she +cleaned the boat, and she always carried the fish to market. Besides, +she tilled the little field, and in the evening she spun the thread +to make her brothers' shirts. But they were very kind to her, no +brothers could be more so. + +He could not help comparing this poor girl--the drudge of the +family--with the grand ladies of his own caste, whose task in life +was to dress up, to be rapidly witty in a saloon, to slander all +their acquaintances, simply to kill the time, for whom life had no +other aim than pleasure, and against whose love for sumptuary display +the Republic had to devise laws and enforce old edicts. + +For the young philosopher this unsophisticated girl soon became an +object, first, of speculative, then of tender interest; whilst +Margaret--this was the fishermaiden's name--felt for Theodor, so +delicate and lovable, that motherly sympathy which a real womanly +nature feels for every human being sickly and suffering. + +They met again--haunted as he was by the flashing eyes of the young +girl, it was impossible for him not to try and see her a second time, +and from her own fair lips he heard that the passion which had been +kindled in his heart had also roused her love. Then, instead of +endeavouring to suppress their feelings, they yielded to the charms +of this saintly affection, to the rapture of loving and being loved. +In a few days his feelings had made so much progress that he promised +to marry her, forgetting, however, that the strict laws of the +aristocratic Republic forbade all marriages between patricians and +plebeians. His noble character and his bold spirit prompted him to +brave that proud society in which he lived, for those refined ladies +and gentlemen, who would have shrugged their shoulders had he seduced +the young girl and made her his mistress, would have been terribly +scandalised had he taken her for his lawful wife. + +His studies went on in a desultory way, his books were almost +forsaken; love engrossed all his mind. + +In the midst of his thoughtless happiness, the young lover was +suddenly summoned back home, for whilst Theodor was supposed to be +poring over his old volumes, the father, without consulting him, not +anticipating any opposition, promised his son in marriage to the +daughter of one of his friends, a young lady of great wealth and +beauty. This union had, it is true, been concerted when the children +were mere babes, and it had from that time been a bond between the +two families. The whole town, nay, the Commonwealth itself, rejoiced +at this auspicious event. The young lady, being now of a marriageable +age, and having duly concentrated all her affections upon the man she +had always been taught to regard as her future husband, looked +forward with joy to the day that would remove her from the thraldom +in which young girls were kept. Henceforth she would take her due +share in all festivities, and not only be cooped up in a balcony or a +gallery to witness those enjoyments of which she could not take part. + +Theodor was, therefore, summoned back home to assist at a great +festivity given in honour of his betrothal. This order came upon him +as a thunderbolt; still, as soon as he recovered from the shock, he +hastened back to break off the engagement contracted for him. He +tried to remonstrate, first with his father, and then with his +mother; but his eloquence was put to scorn. He pleaded in vain that +he had no inclination for matrimony, that, moreover, he only felt for +this young lady a mere brotherly affection, that could never ripen +into love; still, both his parents were deaf to all his arguments. +Now that the wedding day was settled, that the father had pledged his +word to his friend, it was too late to retreat. A refusal would be +insulting; it would provoke a rupture between the two families--a +feud in the town. No option was left but to obey. + +Theodor thereupon retired to his own room, where he remained in +strict confinement, refusing to see anyone. The evening of that +eventful day the guests were assembled, the bride and her family had +arrived; the bridegroom, nevertheless, was missing. This was, +indeed, a strange breach of good manners, and numerous comments were +whispered from ear to ear. The father sent, at last, a peremptory +order to his undutiful son to come down at once. + +The young man at last made his appearance dressed in a suit of deep +mourning, whilst his hair--which a little while before had fallen in +long ringlets over his shoulders--was clipped short. In this strange +dress he came to inform his father--before the whole assembly--that +he had decided to forego the pleasures, the pomp and vanity of this +world, and to take up his abode in a convent, where he intended to +pass his days in study and meditation. + +The scene of confusion which followed this unexpected declaration can +easily be imagined. The guests thought it advisable to retire; still, +the first person to leave the house was Theodor himself, bearing with +him his father's curse. The discarded bride was borne away by her +parents, and her delicate health never recovered from that unexpected +disappointment. + +That very night the young man went back to the Benedictine convent, +and, although the prior received him kindly, he still advised him to +yield to his father's wishes; but Theodor was firm in his resolution +of passing his life in holy seclusion. + +After a few days, the fire which love had kindled within his veins +was so strong that he could not resist the temptation of going to see +Margaret to inform her of all that had happened. Driven as he was +from house and home, unable to go against the unjust laws of his +country, he had made up his mind to spend his life in holy celibacy, +in the convent where he had taken shelter. The sight of the young +girl, however, made him forget all his wise resolutions; he only swore +to her that he would brave the laws of his country, the wrath of his +parents, and that he would marry her in spite of his family and of +the whole world. + +He thus continued to see the young girl, stealthily at first, then +oftener and without so many precautions, till at last Margaret's +brothers were informed of his visits. They--jealous of the honour of +their family, as all Slavs are--threatened their sister to kill her +lover if ever they found him with her. Then--almost at the same +time--the prior of the Benedictines, happening to hear of Theodor's +love for the fair fisher-girl of Lopud, expressed his intention of +expelling him, should he not discontinue his visits to the +neighbouring island. + +Every new difficulty only seemed to give greater courage to the +lovers. They would have fled from their native country had it not +been for the fear of being soon overtaken, brought back and punished; +they, therefore, decided to wait for some time, until the wrath of +their persecutors had abated, and the storm that always threatened +them had blown over. + +As Theodor could not go to see the young girl, Margaret now came to +visit her lover. Not to excite any suspicion, they only met in the +middle of the night; and, as they always changed their +trysting-place, a lighted torch was the signal where the young girl +was to steer her boat. Sometimes--as not a skiff was to be got--the +young girl swam across the channel, for nothing could daunt her +heroic heart. + +These ill-fated lovers were happy in spite of their adverse fortune; +the love they bore one another made amends for all their woes. They +only lived in expectation of that hour they were to pass together +every night. Then, clasped in each other's arms, the world and its +inhabitants did not exist for them. Those were moments of such +ineffable rapture, that it seemed impossible for them ever to drain +the whole chalice of happiness. In those moments Time and Eternity +were confounded, and nothing was worth living for except the bliss of +loving and being loved. The dangers which surrounded them, their +loneliness upon those rocky shores, the stillness of the night, and +the swiftness of time, only rendered the pleasure they felt more +intense, for joy dearly bought is always more deeply felt. + +Their happiness, however, was not to last long. Margaret's brothers, +having watched her, soon found out that when the young nobleman had +ceased coming to Lopud, it was she who visited her lover by night, +and, like honourable men, they resolved to be avenged upon her. They +bided their time, and upon a dark and stormy night the fishermen, +knowing that their sister would not be intimidated by the heavy sea, +went off with the boat and left her to the mercy of the waves. +Theodor, not to entice her to expose herself rashly to the fury of +the sea, had not lighted his torch; still, unable to remain shut up +within his cell, he roamed about the desolate shore, listening to the +roaring billows. All at once he saw a light--not far from the rocks. +No fisherman could be out in the storm at that hour. His heart sank +within him for fear Margaret should see the light and take it for his +signal. In a fever of anxiety he walked about the shore and watched +the fluttering light--now almost extinguished, and then burning +brightly. + +The young girl seeing the light, and unable to resist the promptings +of her heart, made the sign of the Cross, recommended herself to the +mercy of the Almighty, and bravely plunged into the waters. She +struggled against the fury of the wind, and buffeted against the +waves, swimming towards that beacon-light of love. That night, +however, all her efforts seemed useless; she never could reach the +shore; that _ignis-fatuus_ light always receded from her. Still, she +took courage, hoping soon to reach that blessed goal; in fact, she +was now getting quite near it. + +A flash of lightning, which illumined the dark expanse of the waters, +showed her that the torch, towards which she had been swimming, was +tied to the prow of her brothers' boat. She also perceived that the +Island of St. Andrea, towards which she thought she had been +swimming, was far behind her. A moment afterwards the torch was +thrown into the sea, and the boat rowed off. She at once turned +towards the island, and there, in the midst of the darkness, she +struggled with the huge breakers that dashed themselves in foam +against the reefs; but soon, overpowered with weariness, she gave up +every hope of rejoining her lover, and sank down in the briny deep. + +The sea that separated the lovers was, however, less cruel than man, +for upon the morrow the waves themselves laid the lifeless body of +the young girl upon the soft sand of the beach. + +The young patrician, who had passed a night of most terrible anxiety, +wandering on the strand, found the corpse of the girl he so dearly +loved. He caused it to be committed to the earth, after which he +re-entered the walls of the convent, took the Benedictine dress, and +spent the rest of his life praying for her soul and pining in grief. + + +Milenko did not exactly relate this story in these words, for to be +intelligible he had to make use of a mixture of Italian, Slav and +even Greek, and even then Captain Panajotti was often puzzled to +understand what he meant; therefore, he had to express himself in a +kind of dumb show, or in those onomatopoetic sounds rather difficult +to be transcribed. + +As soon as he had finished, the captain said: + +"We, too, have a story like that, and, on the whole, ours is a much +prettier one; for it was the man who swam across the Straits of the +Dardanelles to meet the girl he loved, and, on a stormy night, he was +drowned." + +"Only ours is a true story; you yourself have seen, just now, the +hard-hearted brothers rowing in the dark." + +"Ours is also true." + +"And when did it happen?" + +"More than a thousand years ago, when we Greeks were the masters of +all the world." + +The _Spera in Dio_, having met with contrary winds and a storm in the +rough sea of the Quarnero, had been obliged to cruise about and shift +her sails every now and then, thus losing a great deal of time, and +she only reached Trieste after a week's delay. The caique instead had +a steady, strong wind, and less than twenty-four hours after they +left Ragusa they cast their anchor in front of the white walls of +Zara. + +To the _pobratim_'s regret the boat was only to remain there two or +three days at most, just time enough to take some bales of hides, and +then set sail for Trieste; so, although they were so near Nona, it +was impossible for them to go and pay a visit to Ivanka. The two +young sailors had, however, no need of going to Nona to see their +friends, for no sooner had the ship dropped her anchor than Giulianic +himself came on board, for he was the Sciot merchant about whom +Captain Panajotti had often spoken to them, and who was to give them +the extra cargo. + +"What! you here?" said Giulianic, opening his eyes with astonishment. +"Well, this is an unexpected pleasure; but I thought you were in +Trieste." Then, turning to Milenko, he added: "I had a letter from +your father only a few days ago informing me that your ship would be +there now. You have not been shipwrecked, I hope?" + +"No, no," replied Uros, at once; "we were detained at Ragusa; but we +are on our way to Trieste, aren't we, captain?" + +"If God grants us a fair wind, we are." + +Milenko thereupon opened his mouth to speak, but his friend +forestalled him. + +"So you had a letter from his father? Well, what news from home? Are +they all in good health? And how are the crops getting on?" Thereupon +he stepped on his friend's foot to make him keep quiet. + +"Yes, all are well. Amongst other things, he says that your father +has gone to Montenegro." + +"My father?" asked Uros, with a sly wink at Milenko. + +"Yes; on account of a murder that had been committed at Budua." Then, +turning to the captain: "By-the-bye, you knew Radonic, didn't you?" + +"Yes, I did." + +"Well, it appears he's gone and murdered the only friend he had." + +"That's not astonishing. The only thing that surprises me is that he +ever had a friend to murder. He was one of the most unsociable men I +ever met." + +Afterwards they spoke of the accident that had kept the two young men +at Ragusa, at which Giulianic seemed greatly concerned. + +"Anyhow," said he, "it's lucky that my wife and Ivanka have come with +me from Nona. They'll be so glad to see you again; for you must know, +Captain Panajotti, that my bones, and those of my wife and daughter, +would now be lying at the bottom of the sea, had it not been for the +courage of these two young men." + +"Oh! you must thank him," said Uros, pointing to Milenko. "I only +helped so as not to leave him to risk his life alone." + +"They never told me anything about it; but, of course, they did not +know that I was acquainted with you." Then, laughing, the captain +added: "Fancy, I have been warning them not to lose their hearts on +seeing your beautiful daughter." + +"And didn't I tell you that my friend had already left his heart at +Nona?" + +Saying this, Uros pinched his friend's arm. Milenko blushed, and was +about to say something, but Giulianic began to speak about business; +then added: + +"And now I must leave you; but suppose you all three come and meet us +at the Cappello in about an hour's time, and have some dinner with +us? I'll not say a word either to my wife or Ivanka, and you may +fancy how surprised they'll be to see you." + +Captain Panajotti seemed undecided. + +"No, I'll not have any excuse; you captains are little tyrants the +moment the anchor is weighed, but the moment it's dropped you are all +smiles and affability. Come, I'll have a dish of _scordalia_ to whet +your appetite; now, you can't resist that; so ta-ta for the present." + +The moment Giulianic disappeared Milenko looked at his friend, whose +eyes were twinkling with merriment. + +"It's done," said Uros, smiling. + +"But what made you take the poor fellow in as you did?" + +"_I_ take him in? Well, I like that." + +"Well, but----" + +"If he deceived himself, am I to be held responsible for his +mistakes?" + +"Still----" + +"Besides, if there was any deception, I must say you did your best to +let it go on." + +"Of course, I did; but who made me do it?" + +"I did." + +"And now is it to continue?" + +"Of course." + +"But why?" + +"Milenko, you're a good fellow, but in some things you are a great +ninny. You ask me why? Well, because, for two days, you can make love +to the daughter under the father's very nose; in the meantime I'll +devote myself to the father and mother, and make myself pleasant to +them." + +"Yes, but what'll be the upshot of all this?" + +"'Sufficient to the day is the evil thereof,' the proverb says; why +will you make yourself wretched, thinking of the future, when you can +be so happy? If I only had the opportunity of spending two long days +with----" + +Uros did not finish his phrase; his merry face grew dark, and he +sighed deeply; then he added: "There is usually some way out of all +difficulties; see how you got out of prison." + +"Still, look in what a predicament you've placed me." + +"Well, if you feel qualmish, we can tell the old man that he's a +goose, for he really doesn't know who his son-in-law is; then I'll +make love to fair Ivanka, and you'll look on. Now are you satisfied?" + +"What are you wrangling about?" said Captain Panajotti, appearing out +of the hatchway in his best clothes, his baggy trowsers more +voluminous than those that Mrs. Bloomer tried to set in fashion a few +years afterwards. + +"Oh! nothing," said Uros, laughing; "only you must know that every +first quarter of the moon I suffer from lunacy. I'm not at all +dangerous, quite the contrary; especially if I'm not contradicted. So +you might try and bear with me for a day or two; by the time we sail +again I'll be all right; it's only a flow of exuberant animal spirits, +that must vent themselves. But, how fine you are, captain; I'm afraid +you are trying to out-do my friend, and if it wasn't that you are +married, I'd have thought that all your warnings for us not to fall +in love with the Sciot's daughter----" + +"I see that the lunacy is beginning, so I'll not contradict; but +hadn't you better go and dress?" + +"All right," quoth Uros, and in a twinkling the two young men +disappeared down the hatchway. + +Half-an-hour afterwards they were at the Albergo Cappello, the only +inn of the town, where they found Giulianic awaiting them. The two +women were very much astonished to see them. Ivanitza's eyes flashed +with unrestrained delight on perceiving her lover, but then she +looked down demurely--as every well-bred damsel should--and blushed +like a pomegranate flower. Only, when she heard her father address +him by his friend's name, she looked up astonished; but seeing Uros +slily wink at her, she again cast down her eyes, wondering what it +all meant. + +After a while the mother whispered to her husband that she had always +mistaken one of the young men for the other. + +"Did you?" said he, laughing. "Well, I am astonished, for you women +are so much keener in knowing people than we men are; for, to tell +you the truth, I've often been puzzled myself; they are both the same +age, they are like brothers, they are dressed alike, so it's easy to +mistake them." + +"Anyhow," added she, "I'm glad to have been mistaken, because, +although I like both of them, still I prefer our future son-in-law to +young Bellacic; he's more earnest and sedate than his friend." + +"Yes, I think you are right; the other one is such a chatterbox." + +"And, then, he displayed so much courage at the time of our +shipwreck; indeed, had it not been for his bravery, we should all +have been drowned." + +"Yes, I remember; he was the first one to come to our rescue. Still, +we must be just towards the other one, for he is a brave and a plucky +fellow to boot." + +"And so lively!" + +"That's it; rather too much so; anyhow, I'm glad that Ivanka has +fallen in love with the right man; because it would have been exactly +like the perverseness of the gentle sex for her to have liked the +other one better." + +"Oh, my daughter has been too well brought up to make any objection! +Just fancy a girl choosing for herself; it would be preposterous!" + +"Yes, of course it would; still, she might have moped and threatened +to have gone into a decline. Oh, I know the ways of your model +girls!" + +In the meanwhile, Milenko explained to the young girl how the mistake +had originated, and how her father had, from the first, believed him +to be Uros. + +Dinner was soon served in a private room of the hotel; and Uros, who, +to keep up the buoyancy of his spirits, and act the part he had +undertaken to play brilliantly, had swallowed several glasses of +_slivovitz_, and had induced Captain Panajotti to follow his example, +was now indulging freely with the strong Dalmatian wine. Still, he +only took enough to be talkative and merry; but, as he exaggerated +the effects of the wine, everybody at table believed him to be quite +tipsy. + +No sooner had the dish of macaroni been taken away than he began to +insist upon Captain Panajotti telling them a story. + +"Oh, to-morrow you'll be master on board again; but now, you know, +you must do what I like, just as if you were my wife!" + +"What! Your wife----" + +But Uros did not let Mrs. Giulianic finish her question, for he +insisted upon doing all the talking himself. + +"My wife," said he, sententiously, "my wife'll have to dance to the +tune I play; for I intend to wear the breeches and the skirts, too, +in my house; so I hope you've brought up your daughter to jump +through paper hoops, like a well-trained horse--no, I mean a girl!" + +"My daughter----" + +"Oh, I daresay that your daughter's like you, turning up her nose; +but I say, D----n it! I'll not have a wife whose nose turns up." + +Giulianic looked put out; his wife's face lengthened by several +inches, whilst Ivanka did her best to look scared. + +"Come, captain," continued Uros, "spout us one of your stories. Now +listen, for he'll make you split with laughter. Come, give us one of +your spicy ones; tell us your tale about the lack of wit, but without +omitting the----" + +"I'm afraid that the ladies----" + +"Oh, rot the ladies! Now, all this comes from this new-fangled notion +of having women at table; if they are to be squeamish and spoil all +the fun, let them stop up their ears. Come, I told you I'd not brook +contradiction to-day." + +"Well, by-and-by; let me have my dinner now." + +"What's the matter with him?" asked Mrs. Giulianic of the captain; +"is he drunk?" + +"Oh, worse! he's moon-struck; he's like that for a few days at every +new moon." + +Mrs. Giulianic made the sign of the Cross, and whispered something to +her husband. + +"Then, if you'll not tell us a story, our guest must sing us a song. +Come, father-in-law, sing us a song, a merry, rollicking one, for +when I'm on shore I like to laugh." + +"No, not here; we are not in our own house, you know." + +"Do you pay for the dinner, or don't you?" + +"I do, but there are gentlemen dining in the next room." + +"If they don't like your song, don't let them listen." + +Thereupon the waiter came in. + +"I say, you, fellow, isn't it true that we can sing in this stinking +hole of an old tub?" + +"Oh! if you like; only this isn't a tavern, and there are two judges +dining in the next room." + +"And you think I'm not going to sing for two paltry judges! I'll +howl, then." + +"No; let's have some riddles," said Giulianic, soothingly; "I'm very +fond of riddles, aren't you? Now, tell me, captain, who was it that +killed the fourth part of mankind?" + +"Why, that's as old as your wife," quoth Uros, at once; "why, Cain, +of course. But as you like riddles, I'll tell you one that suits you, +though, as the proverb says, a bald pate needs no comb." + +Giulianic winced, for his bald head was his sore point, but then he +added, with a forced smile: + +"Come, let's have your riddle." + +"Well, you ought to know what makes a man bald, if anyone does." + +"Sorrow," answered the bald man. + +"Rot, I say!" + +"What is it, then?" + +"The loss of hair, of course," and he poked Giulianic in the ribs. +"That was good, wasn't it, father-in-law?" + +"Well, I don't see much of a joke in it," answered the host, +snappishly. + +"No; I didn't expect you would; that's the joke, you see." Then, +turning to Ivanka, with a slight wink: "Now, here's one for you." + +"Let's hear it." + +"Why are there in this world more women than men?" + +"Because they are more necessary." + +"That's your conceit; but you're wrong." + +"What is it, then?" asked the young girl. + +"Because the evil in this world is always greater than the good." + +"So," said she, with a pretty smile, "then, women ought to be called +men's worse halves." + +"Of course, they ought--though there are exceptions to all rules." +Then, after drinking very slowly half a glass of wine: "Now, one for +you, _babica_. This is the very best of the lot; I didn't invent it +myself, though I, too, can say a smart thing now and then, _babica_. +Tell me, when is a wife seen at her best?" + +Ivanka's mother, who prided herself upon her youthful looks, winced +visibly on hearing herself twice called a granny; still, she added, +simpering: + +"I suppose, when she's a bride." + +"Oh! you suppose that, do you? Well, your supposition is all wrong." + +"Well, when is it?" + +"Ask your husband; surely, he's not bald for nothing." + +"I'm sure, I don't know; I think----" + +"You think it's when she turns up her nose, but that's not it, for +it's when she turns up her toes and is carried out of the house." + +Captain Panajotti laughed, and so did Ivanka; but her mother, seeing +her laugh, could hardly control her vexation, so she said something +which she intended to be very sarcastic. + +"Oh! you are vexed, _babica_, because I explained you the riddle." + +"Vexed! there's nothing to be vexed about. I'm only sorry that, at +your age, you have such a bad opinion of women." + +"_I_, a bad opinion, _takomi Boga!_ I haven't made the riddle; I've +only heard it from my father, and he says that riddles are the wisdom +of a nation. So, to show you that I have the best regard for you, +here's a bumper"--and thereupon he filled his glass to the brim and +stood up--"to your precious health, mother-in-law." + +Then, pretending to stumble, he poured the glass of wine over her +head and face. + +Giulianic uttered an oath, and struck the table with his fist; Ivanka +and Milenko thought he had gone too far. Still, the poor woman looked +such a pitiful object, with her turban all soaked and her face all +dripping with wine, that they all burst out laughing. + +Mrs. Giulianic, unable to control her vexation, and angry at finding +herself the laughing-stock of the whole company, forgot herself so +far as to call Uros a fool and a drunkard. He, however, went on, +good-humouredly: + +"I'm so sorry; but, you see, it was quite unintentional, _Bogami_, +quite unintentional. But never mind, don't be angry with me; I'll buy +you another dress." + +"Do you think my wife is vexed on account of her dress?" said +Giulianic, proudly. "Thank Heaven! she doesn't need your dresses +yet." + +"Oh, yes!" said Uros, mopping up the wine with his napkin, "I know +that you can afford to buy your wife dresses; but as I spoilt this +one, it is but right that I should pay for it. I can't offer to buy +you a yard of stuff, can I? And, besides, a dress is always welcome, +isn't it, mother-in-law?" + +"Well, never mind about the dress," quoth Giulianic. + +"Oh! if you don't mind it, your wife does; but there, don't be angry, +don't be wriggling with your nose. When I marry your daughter, my +pretty Ivanka----" + +"You marry my daughter!" gasped the father. + +"You, indeed!" quoth the mother. + +"Yes, _babica_; then I'll buy you the dearest dress I can get for +money in Trieste. What is it to be, velvet or satin? plain or with +bunches of flowers? What colour would you like? as red as your face +is now?" + +"When you marry Ivanka, you can buy me a bright green satin." + +"Well, here's my hand upon it; only you'll look like a big parrot in +that dress. Isn't it true, father-in-law?" + +"A joke is a joke," answered Giulianic; "but I wish you wouldn't be +'father-in-lawing' me, for----" + +"Well, I hope you are not going to break off the engagement because I +happened to christen mother-in-law with a glass of good wine, are +you?" + +"Your engagement?" + +"Of course." + +"I told you I don't mind a joke, still this is carrying----" + +"Don't mind him, poor fellow," said Captain Panajotti. "The poor +fellow is daft." + +"If anybody is engaged to my daughter," continued Giulianic, "it's +your friend there, Uros Bellacic!" + +"Oh! I like that," said Uros, laughing. "I'm afraid the wine's all +gone up to your bald pate, old man." Then turning to Captain +Panajotti, he added: "He doesn't know his own son-in-law any more," +and he laughed idiotically. + +Giulianic and his wife looked aghast. + +Thereupon, thumping the table, Uros exclaimed: + +"I tell you I'm going to marry your daughter, though, if the truth +must be known, I don't care a fig for her, pretty as she is. I've +got----" + +"And I swear by God that you'll never marry her!" cried Giulianic, +exasperated. + +"That's rich," quoth Uros. "On what do you swear, old bald-pate?" + +"I swear on my faith." + +"And on your soul, eh?" + +"On my soul, too." + +"With your hand on the Cross?" asked Uros, handing him a little +Cross. + +"I swear," answered Giulianic, beyond himself with rage. + +"Well, well, that'll do; don't get angry, take it coolly as I do. You +see, I'm not put out. As long as you settle the matter with my +father, Milos Bellacic, I'm quite satisfied." + +"Milos Bellacic your father?" + +"Of course." + +"Then you mean to say that you are----?" + +"Uros Bellacic. Although the wine may have gone a little to my head, +still, I suppose I know who I am." + +"Is it true?" said Giulianic, turning towards Milenko. + +"Yes!" replied the young man, nervously, "Didn't you know it?" + +"No." + +"Didn't I tell you?" whispered his wife. + +"Oh! you always tell me when it's too late," he retorted, huffishly. +"And now, what's to be done? Will you release me from my oath?" + +Ivanka looked up, alarmed. + +"Decidedly not; I'll never marry a girl who doesn't want me, whose +father has sworn on his soul not to have me, for whose mother I'm a +drunkard and a fool." + +The dinner ended in a gloomy silence; a dampness had come over all +the guests, and, except Ivanka and Milenko, all were too glad to get +rid of one another. + +On the morrow Uros called on Mrs. Giulianic, when her husband was not +at home. He apologised for his boorish behaviour, and explained +matters to her. + +"Your daughter is in love with Milenko, to whom you all owe your +lives; he, too, has lost his heart on her, whilst I--well, it's +useless speaking about myself." + +"I see it all now," quoth she, "and you are too good-hearted to wish +us all to be miserable on account of a stupid promise. Well, on the +whole, I think you were right." + +"Then you forgive me for what I did and what I said?" + +"Of course I do, now that I understand it all." + +Before the caique sailed off, Uros was fully forgiven, and Giulianic +even promised to write to his friend and explain matters to him. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +STARIGRAD + + +The caique reached Trieste in time to meet the _Spera in Dio_, which, +having discharged her goods, had taken a cargo of timber for Lissa. +At Trieste, the _pobratim_ bade good-bye to Captain Panajotti; and +he, having found there two of his countrymen, was able to set sail +for the Levant. From Lissa the _Spera in Dio_ returned to Trieste, +and there her cargo of sardines was disposed of to great advantage. + +The young men had been sailing now six months with the captain, and +he, seeing that they were not only good pilots, clever sailors, +reliable young men, but sharp in business to boot, agreed to let them +have the whole management of the ship, for he was obliged to go to +Fiume, and take charge of another brig of his, that had lost her +captain. Moreover, being well off, and having re-married, he was now +going to take his young wife on a cruise with him. + +"And who was the captain of your brig in Fiume?" + +"One of my late wife's brothers, and as he seems to have disapproved +of my second marriage, he has discarded my ship." + +"And is he married?" + +"Of course, he is; did you ever know any unmarried captain? Land rats +always seem to look upon marriage as a halter, whilst we sailors get +spliced as young as possible. Perhaps it's because we are so little +with our better halves that we are happy in married life." + +"And when you give up the sea will you settle down in Fiume?" + +"I suppose so, though Fiume is not my birth-place." + +"Isn't it? Where were you born, then?" + +"Where the dog-king was born!" + +"And where was the dog-king born? For, never having heard of him +before, I am now quite as wise as I was," said Uros. + +"Well, they say that Atilla, who was a very great king, was born at +Starigrad, the old castle, which, as you know, is not very far from +Nona. Starigrad is said to have been built on the ruins of a very old +city, which was once called Orsopola, but which now hardly deserves +the name of a town. The village where I was born goes by the name of +Torre-Vezza, but we in Slav know it as Kulina-pass-glav." + +"What a peculiar name, The Tower of the Dog's Head," added Milenko. + +"Yes, it is also called The Tower of the Dog-King +Kulina-pass-kraljev." + +"And why?" asked Uros. + +"Because it was the tower where Atilla was born, and as the king +happened to have a dog's ears, the place was called after him The +Tower of the Dog-King." + +"How very strange that a king should have a dog's ears." + +"Not so very strange either. Once, in olden times, a king actually +had ass's ears; but that was long before constitutional monarchy: I +doubt whether people would stand such things nowadays. Some +historians say that he had a dog's head, but that, I daresay, is an +exaggeration; and perhaps, after all, he had only big hairy ears, +something like those of a poodle. Anyhow, if the legend is to be +believed, it does not seem wonderful that Atilla was somewhat of a +mongrel and doggish in his behaviour." + +"Let's hear the legend," said Uros. + +Thereupon, the captain and his two mates, lying flat on their +stomachs, propped themselves up on their elbows, and began to puff at +their cigarettes. Then the captain narrated as follows: + + +About four hundred years after the birth of our Lord and Saviour +Jesus Christ, there lived in Hungary a King who was exceedingly +handsome. The Hungarians are, as you must know, a very fine race; but +this monarch was so remarkably good-looking, that no woman ever cast +her eyes upon him without falling in love with him at once. This King +had a daughter who was as beautiful a girl as he was handsome a man, +and all the kings and princes were anxious to marry her. She had a +great choice of suitors, for they flocked to Hungary from the four +quarters of the globe. She, however, discarded them all, for she +could not find the man of her choice amongst them. Some were too +fair, others a shade too dark; the one was too short, the other was +tall and lanky. In fact, one batch of kings went off and another +came, but with no better success; fair-bearded and blue-eyed +emperors were the same to her as negro potentates, she hardly looked +upon either. + +The King at first was vexed to find his daughter so hard to please, +then he grew angry at seeing her throw away so many good chances, and +at last he decided that she was to marry the very first man that +should come to ask for her hand, fair or dark, yellow or +copper-coloured. + +The suitor who happened to present himself was a powerful chief of +some nomadic tribe. He was not exactly a handsome man, for he was +shock-headed, short and squat, with sturdy, muscular limbs, big, +broad hands and square feet. As for his face, it was quite flat, with +a pug nose, thick lips and sharp teeth. As for his ears, they were +canine in their shape, large and hairy. + +Though he was not exactly a monster, still the girl refused him, +horrified. The man, gloating upon her, said, with a leer, that a time +might come when she would lick her chops to have him. Nay, he grinned +and showed his dog-like teeth as he uttered this very low expression, +rendering it ever so much the more obnoxious by emitting a low canine +laugh, something between a whine and a merry bark. The poor Princess +shuddered with horror and said she would as lief be wedded to one of +her father's curs. + +The father now got into a towering passion and asked the Princess why +she would not marry, and the damsel, melting into tears, and almost +fainting with grief and shame, confessed that she was in love with +him--her own father. + +Fancy the King's dismay! + +He had been bored the whole of his life by all the women, not only of +his Court, but of his whole kingdom, who were madly in love with him. +Wherever he went there was always a crowd of young girls and old +dames, married women and widows, gazing at him as if he had been the +moon; grey eyes and green eyes, black eyes and blue eyes, were always +staring, ogling or leering at him; and, amidst deep-drawn sighs, he +always heard the same words: "Ah! how handsome he is!" His fatal +beauty made more ravages amongst the fair sex even than the plague or +the small-pox; the cemeteries and lunatic asylums were peopled with +his victims. His dreams were haunted by the sighs and cries of these +love-sick females. At last he had decided to live in a remote castle, +in the midst of a forest, where he would see and be seen by as few +women as possible; but even here he could not find rest, his own +daughter had not escaped the infection. That was too much for the poor +King. He at once banished the Princess, not only from his sight--from +his castle--but even from his kingdom. He wished thereby to strike +the rest of womankind with terror. + +The poor girl, like Cain, wandered alone upon the surface of the +earth; bearing her father's curse, she was shunned by everyone who +met her; for the Hungarians have ever been loyal to their kings. + +She was, however, not quite alone; for as she left the royal palace +she was met on her way by an ugly-looking cur, with a shaggy head, a +short and squat body, sturdy muscular legs, big paws, a pug nose, +sharp white teeth, and huge flapping ears. He was not exactly a fine +dog, but he seemed good-natured enough; and as he followed her steps, +he looked at her piteously with his little eyes. + +She walked about for three days; then, sick at heart, weary and +faint, she sank down, ready to die. She was on a lonely highway, with +moors all covered with heather on either side; so that she could see +nothing but the limitless plain stretching far away in the distance +as far as the eye could reach. In that immense waste, with the bright +blue sky overhead, and the brown-reddish heath all around, where not +a tree, not a shrub, not a rock was to be seen, she walked on and on; +but she always seemed to be in the very centre of an unending circle. +Then a feeling of terror came over her; the utter loneliness in which +she found herself overpowered her. And now the mongrel cur, which had +remained behind, came running after her, the poor beast, which at +first she had hardly noticed, comforted her; he was now far more than +a companion or a protector, he was her only friend. + +She sank down by the wayside, to pat the faithful dog and to rest a +while; but when she tried to rise, her legs were so stiff that they +refused to carry her. However, the sun, that never tarries, went on +and left her far behind. She saw his fiery disc sink like a glowing +ball far behind the verge of the moor; then darkness, little by +little, spread itself over the earth. Night being more oppressive +than daylight, the tears began to trickle down her cheeks; then she +lay down on the grass, and began to sob bitterly and to bewail and +moan over her ill-timed fate. She was again comforted; for the ugly +cur came to sniff at her, to rub his nose against her cheeks, and +lick her hands, as if to soothe and assuage her sorrow. + +Tired as she was her heavy eyelids drooped, shut themselves, and soon +she sank into a deep sleep. + +That night she had a most wonderful vision. Soon she felt her body +beginning to get drowsy and the pain in her weary head to pass away; +then consciousness gradually vanished. Then it seemed that she saw +two genii of gigantic stature appear in front of her; the mightiest +of the two bent down, caught her up as if she had been a tiny baby +only a few months old, clasped her to his breast, then spread out his +huge bat-like wings and flew away with her up into the air. It was +pleasant to nestle in his brawny arms and feel the wind rush around +her. He carried her with the rapidity of the lightning across the +endless plains of Hungary, over the blue waters of the Danube, over +lakes and snow-capped chains of mountains, and wide gaping chasms +which looked like the mouths of hell. The genius at last alighted on +the summit of a very high peak, and from there he slid down, making +thus a deep glen that went to the sea-shore. The other genius took up +the dog in his arms, transported him likewise through the air, and +perched himself on the top of another neighbouring peak. The +mountain-tops on which they alighted were the Ruino and Sveti Berdo +of the Vellibic chain. Once on their feet again the two Afrites laid +down their burdens, and built--till early morning--a huge castle of +massive stone, not far from the sea. Their task done, they placed the +Princess in a beautiful bed, all inlaid with silver, ivory and +mother-of-pearl; they whispered in her ear that henceforth, and for +the remainder of her life, she would have to keep away from the sight +of men, for her beauty might have been as fatal as her father's had +been. Then they rose up in the air, vanished, or rather, melted away, +like the morning mist. + +You can fancy the Princess's surprise the next morning when--on +awaking--she found herself stretched on a soft couch, between fine +lawn sheets, in a lofty chamber, finer by far even than the one she +had had in her father's palace. She rubbed her eyes, thinking that +she was dreaming, and then lay for a few moments, half asleep and +half awake, hardly daring to move lest she might return, but too +soon, to the bitter misery of life. All at once, as she lay in this +pleasant sluggish state, she felt something moist and cold against +her cheek. She shuddered, awoke quite, turned round and found +herself in still closer contact with the cur's pug nose. + +The Princess drew back astonished, unable to understand whether she +was awake or asleep, and, as her eyes fell on the cur, she was +surprised to see a kind of broad and merry grin on the dog's face, +for the mongrel evidently seemed to be enjoying her surprise. + +The young girl continued to look round, bewildered, for, instead of +being on the dusty roadside, where she had dropped down out of sheer +weariness, she was lying on a comfortable bed, in a splendid room. +She stared at the costly tapestries which covered the walls, at the +beautiful inlaid furniture, at the damask curtains all wrought in +gold, at the crystal chandelier hanging down from the ceiling; and as +she gazed at all these, and many other things, the cur, with his big +hairy front paws on the edge of the couch, was standing on his hind +legs, looking at the beautiful young girl. + +The poor girl blushed to see the cur leering at her so doggedly. She +rose quickly, put on the beautiful dresses that were lying on a chair +ready for her, and went about the house. + +What she had taken for a dream, or a vision, was, in fact, nothing +but plain reality. She had, during the night, been carried from the +plains of Hungary down to the shores of the Adriatic, and shut up in +a fairy castle, alone with the faithful dog. From her windows she +could see the mountains on which the two Afrites had alighted, and on +the other side the sun-lit, translucent waters of the deep blue sea. + +The castle, which seemed to rise out of the steep inaccessible crags +on which it was perched, was built of huge blocks of stone. It had +thick machicolated towers at every corner, gates with drawbridges and +barbicans. The apartments within this stronghold, the remains of +which are still to be seen, were as sumptuous and as comfortable as +any king's daughter might wish. Her protectors had provided her with +all the necessities of daily life, for every day, at twelve, a dainty +dinner, cooked by invisible hands, was laid out in the lofty hall, +whilst in the morning a cup of exquisite chocolate was ready for her +on the table in her bedroom; besides, she found all that could induce +her to pass her time pleasantly, for she had statues, pictures, birds +and flowers. She could walk in the small garden in the midst of the +square court, or under the marble colonnade that surrounded it; she +could stitch, sew, embroider, play the lute, or paint. Still, she was +quite alone, and time lay heavy on her hands. She could see, from the +windows of the second floor, people at a distance stop and stare at +the wonderful castle that had risen out of a rock, like a mushroom, +in the space of a night; but nobody ever saw her. Alone with the cur +from morn to night, from year's end to year's end; he followed her, +step by step, whithersoever she went, and whatever she did he would +wag his tail approvingly. If she sat down, he would squat on his +haunches, on a stool opposite, and gloat on her with his little eyes +so persistently that she felt her head grow quite dizzy, and she +almost fancied that she had a human being sitting there in front of +her, watching lovingly her slightest movement; and then the strangest +fancies flitted through her brain. + +Several times she had tried, as a pastime, to teach the dog some +tricks; but she soon gave it up, for he always inspired her with a +kind of awe. He was such a knowing kind of a cur, that he invariably +seemed to read all her thoughts within her brain, and, winking at +her, did the very thing she wanted him to do, before she had even +tried to teach him the trick. Then, as he saw her open her eyes +wonderingly, he would look at her, grinning, as if he were making fun +of her; or else he sniffed at her in a patronising kind of way, as if +he would say: + +"Pooh! what a very silly kind of girl you are. Couldn't you, a human +being, think of something better than that?" + +It happened one day that, as they sat opposite each other, looking +into each other's eyes--he as quiet as a stone dog on a gate, she +with her tapering fingers interlocked, twirling her thumbs as a means +of passing her time--the Princess was thinking of her many rejected +suitors, whose hearts she had broken; even of the last one, the +short, squat man, with sturdy limbs, large hands and feet, a shaggy +head and huge ears. And she sighed, for though he was much more of a +Satyr than like her Hyperean father, still he was a man. + +Thereupon, she looked at the cur, with its sturdy limbs, its shaggy +head and huge ears; and she sighed again. The dog winked at her. + +"Cur," she said to herself, "you are ugly enough; still, if you were +a man I think I could fall in love with you." + +The cur stood on his hind legs, his head a little on one side; there +was a knowing, impudent look in his eyes. Then he uttered a kind of +doggish laugh, something between a whine and a bark; then, after +showing his teeth in a grinning kind of way, he licked his chops at +her sneeringly. + +The words of her last suitor were just then ringing in her ears. She +looked at the cur in amazement, for she almost fancied he had uttered +those selfsame words. + +The cur was evidently mocking her, as he rolled his shaggy head +about, and gloated at her just as her last suitor had done. +Thereupon, she blushed deeply, and covering her face with her hands, +she burst into tears. + +The poor dog thereupon came to lick the tears that oozed through her +fingers, so that she felt somewhat comforted by the affection which +this poor mongrel showed her. + +This, thought she, is the end of every haughty beauty who is hard to +please and who thinks no one is good enough for her. She rejects all +the best matches in early youth, she turns up her nose at every +eligible _parti_, until--when age creeps on and beauty fades--she is +happy to accept the first boor that pops the question. As for +herself, she had not even a boor whom she could love, not even the +churlish man with the huge ears. + +That evening, undressing before going to bed, the Princess stood, sad +and disconsolate, in front of her mirror. She was still of a radiant +beauty, quite as handsome as she had ever been; but alas! she knew +that her beauty would soon begin to fade in that lonely tower. + +What had she done to the gods to deserve the punishment she was +undergoing? Why had the genii shut her up in that tower to pine there +unheeded and unknown? Why had they not left her to wander about the +world, or even die upon those blasted heaths of her country? Death +was better than having to waste away in a living death, doomed to +eternal imprisonment. + +It was a splendid night in early May. The moon, on one side, silvered +the placid waters of the Adriatic, whilst it gleamed on the still +snow-capped tops of the Vellebic, on the other. The breeze that came +in through the open casement wafted in the smell of the sea, and of +the sage, the hyssop and lavender that grew all around. A nightingale +was trilling in an amorous strain, blackbirds whistled in plaintive +notes, just as in the daytime the wild doves had cooed their eternal +love-song to their mate. + +The poor girl leaned her plump and snowy arms on the white marble +window-sill and sighed. How lovely the world is, she thought, and +then she remained as if entranced by an ecstatic vision. Within the +amber moon that rolled on high and flooded all below with mellow +light, the Princess saw a lover with his lass. Their mouths were +closely pressed in one long kiss, as thirsty lips that cleave unto +the brim of some ambrosial aphrodisiac cup. Above, the stars were +shining forth with love, whilst, down below, the whole earth seemed +to pant; the night-bird's lay, the lisping waves' low voice, and the +insect's chirp all spoke of unknown bliss. The very air, all laden +with the strong scent of roses, lilies and sweet asphodel, was like +the breath of an enamoured youth who whispered in her ear sweet words +of love. A scathing flame was kindled in her breast, and in her veins +her blood was all aglow; her shattered body seemed to melt like wax, +such was the unknown yearning which she felt upon that lovely night +in early May. With reeling, aching head and tottering steps, the +forlorn maiden slowly crept to bed, and while the hot tears trickled +down her cheeks, oblivion steeped her senses in soft sleep. + +That night the wandering moon, that came peeping through the lofty +windows, saw a strange sight. Upon her round disc a broad, sallow +face could now be plainly seen, grinning good-humouredly at what she +beheld. + +That night the Princess had a dream, or rather a vision. No sooner +did she shut her eyes and her senses began to wander and lose +themselves, than she saw the shaggy cur come into the room, with his +usual waddling gait, wagging his tail according to his wont. He came +up to her bed, stood upon his hind legs, put his big paws upon the +white sheets, and began to look at her just in the very same way he +had done that morning when she awoke to find herself shut up within +the battlemented walls of that lonely tower by the sea. She was +almost amused to see him stare at her so gravely, for he looked like +a wise doctor standing by some patient's bed. Until now there was +nothing very strange in this vision, but now comes the most wonderful +and interesting part, which shows how truth and fancy, the +occurrences of the day before and long-forgotten facts, are often +blended together to make up the plot of our dreams. + +As the Princess was looking upon the dog's paws, she saw them change, +not all at once, but quietly undergo a slow process of +transformation. They, little by little, grew longer and shaped +themselves into fingers and broad hands. She looked up--in her sleep, +of course--and beheld the fore part of the legs gradually lengthen +themselves into two sturdy arms. The dog's shaggy head became +somewhat blurred, and in its stead a man's tawny mass of hair +appeared. In fact, after a few minutes, the last rejected suitor, +who, indeed, had always borne a strong likeness to the ugly cur that +had followed her in her exile, now appeared before her. + +He was not a handsome man; no, far from handsome; still, on the +whole, it was better to have as her companion a human being than a +dog. Still, strange to say, she now liked this man on account of his +strong resemblance to the faithful dumb cur, the only friend she had +now had for years. + +"You said that if I were a man you could love me," quoth he, in +something like a soft and gentle growl, sniffing at her as he spoke, +evidently unable to forbear from his long-acquired canine customs. +"Well, now, do you love me?" + +The young girl--in her dream--stretched out her hand and patted the +man's dishevelled hair as she had been wont to caress the cur's +shaggy head; such is the force of habit. + +"I told you that the time would come when you would lick your chops +to have me back; so you see my words, after all, have come true." + +It was a churlish remark, but the young girl had got so accustomed to +the cur's strange ways, that she did not resent it; she even allowed +the man to kiss her hands, just as the mongrel had been wont to lick +them, which shows how careful we ought to be in avoiding bad habits. + +It was then that the rolling, rollicking moon came peeping through +the window with a broad smile on her chubby round face, just as if +she was approving of the sight she saw. + +On the morrow, when the Princess awoke, she looked for the cur +everywhere, but, strange to say, he was nowhere to be found. She +ransacked the whole house, but he had disappeared; she peered through +the barbicans, glanced down from the battlements; she mounted to the +top of the highest tower, strained her eyes, and gazed on the +surrounding country, but the dog was nowhere to be seen. + +A sense of loneliness and languor came over her. It was so dreary to +be shut up in those large and lofty halls, that, at times, the very +sound of her steps made her shiver. Her very food became distasteful +to her. + +From that day--being quite alone--she longed to have, at least, a +little child which she might love, and which might help her to +beguile the long hours of solitude. Every day her maternal instincts +grew stronger within her, and every evening, as she stood leaning on +the marble window-sill, she prayed the kind genii, who had taken pity +on her when she had been wandering on the moor, and almost dying of +weariness, of hunger and of thirst, to be kind to her, and bring her +a tiny little baby to take the place of her lost cur, for life +without a child was quite without an aim. + +Months passed; the blossoms of the trees had fallen, the fruit had +ripened, the harvest had been gathered, the days had grown shorter, +the sea was now always lashed into fury, all the summer-birds had +flown far away, the others were all hushed; only the raucous cries of +the gulls were heard as they flew past the tower where she dwelt. The +days had grown shorter and shorter, the wind was cold, the weather +was bleak, when at last her wish was granted. + +It was on a dreary, stormy night in early February; the Princess was +lying on her bed, unable to sleep, when all at once the window was +dashed open, and a huge stork flew in. It was the very stork, they +say, that, years afterwards, was so fatal to the town of Aquileja, +not very far from there. At that moment the poor Princess was so +terrified that she quite lost her senses; but when she came back to +herself, she found a tiny baby--not an hour old--lying in bed by her +side. + +The wind was blowing in a most terrific way. The Quarnero, which is +always stormy, was nothing but one mass of white foam. The huge waves +dashed together, like fleecy rams butting against each other. The +billows ever rose higher, whilst the waters of the lowering clouds +overhead came pouring down upon the flood below. All the elements +seemed unchained against that lonely tower. The clouds came pouring +down in waterspouts upon it; the breakers dashed against it; the two +ravines, the big and the little Plas Kenizza--formed by the genii as +they had slid down the mountains--were now huge torrents, rolling +down with a roaring noise against the white walls of the tower, +making it look more like an enormous lighthouse on a rock than a +princely castle. The thunder never stopped rumbling; the forked +lightning darted incessantly down upon the highest pinnacles and the +whole stronghold, from its battlements down to its very base. Such a +terrific storm had never been known for ages; in fact, not since the +days when the mighty Julius had been murdered. + +By the lurid light of the incessant flashes, the Princess first saw +her infant boy; and she heard its first wail amongst the deafening +din of the falling thunder-bolts. With motherly fondness, she pressed +the baby to her breast; whilst her heart was beating as if it were +about to break. What a thrill of unutterable bliss she felt that +moment; but, alas! all her joy passed into sorrow when she perceived +that her beautiful baby--beautiful, at least, to a mother's eyes--had +two dear little dog's ears. + +Dogs' ears are by no means ugly--although they are occasionally +cropped. Why was it, then, that the Princess saw them with horror and +dismay? + +Ears, the young mother thought, are the very worst features man +possesses. They stand out prominently and look uncouth, or they +sprawl out along the sides of the head; they are either as colourless +as if they had just been boiled, or as red as boiled lobsters. +Anyhow, she was somewhat fastidious about the shape and tint of those +appendages, so that now the sight of those huge hairy lobes was +perfectly loathsome to her, and as she looked upon them she burst +into tears. The poor forlorn baby, feeling itself snubbed, was +wailing by her side. After a little while she took up her infant; the +disgust she felt was stronger than ever; moreover, she was thoroughly +disappointed. She had begged for a baby, not for a little puppy. In +her vexation--she was a very self-willed girl, as princesses often +are--she took up the babe, got out of the bed, and in two strides she +was by the window. She would cast the little monster into the dark +night from where it had come. She herself did not want it. + +As she reached the open window the two genii, her protectors, stood +before her. + +"Stop, unnatural mother!" cried the taller of the two. "What are you +about to do?" + +The Princess shrank back, frightened and trembling. There are a few +things at which we do not exactly like to be caught: infanticide is +one of them. + +"Know," said the Afrite, in a voice like a peal of thunder, "that the +child, though with dog's ears, is not only of royal lineage, but he +is, moreover, the son of a great genius. About four hundred years ago +another Virgin gave birth to a Child, who, later on, was put to death +upon a cross because the people did not want him as their king. Well, +now, the followers of that virgin's child are our bitterest enemies; +our only hope is in your son; he will grow up to become a mighty +warrior and avenge us. He will waste the towns on which the gold +cross glistens, he will make their kings his captives, and all their +priests his slaves. The blood of the Christians will run in torrents, +even as the rain comes down the ravines to-night; his shafts will be +like the thunderbolts that have fallen on your tower to-night. His +name--which will be heard all over the world like the rumbling in the +clouds--will be The Scourge of God, and he will chastise men for +their evil deeds. Wherever he passes the grass will wither under his +feet, and the waste will be his wake. Only, that all these things +might come to pass, thou must well bear in mind that his head be +never shorn nor his beard shaven; let the tawny locks of his hair +fall about his shoulders like a lion's mane, for all his strength +will lie therein. As soon as his arm is able to wield a weapon, the +trail of blood flowing from a heifer's wound will show him where the +sword of the great god of war lies rusting in the rushes; with that +brand in his hand all men will bow before him, or fall like grass +beneath the mower's scythe. Love alone will overcome him, and a young +girl's lust will lull him into eternal sleep. He will be versed in +magic lore, and be able to read the starry skies as a written scroll. +From his very infancy he will feel a wholesome hatred for the +Nazarenes, his foes as well as ours." + +Having uttered these words, the Afrite rose up like smoke and faded +away in the dark clouds. + +In the meanwhile the child grew up of a superhuman strength, short of +stature but square, and with very broad shoulders; and when he was +but seven years of age the gates of the castle, hitherto always shut, +opened themselves for him. From that time he passed his days in the +dells and hollows of the mountains, chasing the wild beasts that +abounded in those gorges and in the neighbouring forests, almost +inaccessible to man. His mother saw him but little, for he only came +back to the castle when heavily laden with his prey. + +He was but a youth when he organised a band of freebooters; and with +their help he sacked and plundered all the neighbouring towns and +villages, and the plains all around were strewn with the bones of the +dead. Being not only invincible, but just and generous to his men, he +soon found himself at the head of an army the like of which the world +had never seen. He destroyed the immense town of Aquileja, the +largest city of the Adriatic coast, and even burnt down the forest +which stretched from Ravenna to Trieste. Whithersoever he went the +houses fell, the temples and the theatres crumbled down, and he left +desolation behind him; so that, before he had even reached the age of +manhood, the words of the genius were fulfilled. + +At that time the old King of Hungary happened to die, leaving no +heirs to ascend his throne. Anarchy desolated the land. The nobles, +who were at variance as to whom they were to elect, having heard, in +some mysterious way, that their beautiful Princess was still alive, +and that the great conqueror who was at that time plundering Rome was +her son, sent an embassy to the Princess, asking her to return to her +country, and begging her, as a boon, to accept the crown for her +child. + +The Princess, whose name was Mor-Lak (the Daughter of Misfortune), +lived to a good old age. When she died she left her name to the sea +and to the channel, the waters of which bathe the town in which she +dwelt; therefore, the people who live thereabouts are, to this day, +called Morlacchi. If they have no more canine ears, their hair is +still as tawny as that of the dog-king, though all the other +Dalmatians are dark. Moreover, if you go to Starigrad you can see, as +I told you, the ruins of the Torre Vezza, the fairy tower where the +virgin's son was born; likewise the huge chasms of the Ruino and the +Sveti Berdo, the holy mountain where the Afrites slid down, in +remembrance of which the inhabitants still call them the Paklenizza +Malo and the Paklenizza Veliko, or, the Gorges of the Big and the +Little Devil. + + +A few days afterwards, the captain bade the young men good-bye, and +started for Fiume, whilst they, having their cargo ready, set sail +for Odessa. The weather was fine, the wind was fair; therefore, the +first voyage during which they were in sole command of the ship was a +most prosperous, though a rather rough one. For during four days they +had shipped several seas, so that they had the water up to their +waists, and, with all that, no water to drink; but these are the +incidents appertaining to a seafaring life, which sailors forget as +soon as they set foot on shore. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +THE "KARVARINA" + + +Radonic had never been much of a favourite amongst his fellow +countrymen, for he was of an unsociable, surly, overbearing +disposition; still, from the day he had killed Vranic public opinion +began to change in his behalf. A man gifted with an evil eye is a +baleful being, whom everyone dreads meeting--a real curse in a town, +for a number of the daily accidents and trivial misfortunes were +ascribed to the malign influence of his visual organs. It was, +therefore, but natural that Radonic should, tacitly, be looked upon +as a kind of deliverer. Besides this unavowed feeling of relief at +having been rid of the _jettatore_, no one could feel any pity for +Vranic; for even the more indifferent could only shrug their +shoulders, and mutter to themselves, "Serve him right," for he had +only met with the fate he had deserved. + +As for Radonic, he daily grew in the general esteem. There is +something manly in the life of a highwayman who, with his gun, stops +a whole caravan, or asks for bread, his dagger in his hand. It is a +reversion to the old type of prehistoric man. But, more than a +highwayman, Radonic was a _heyduk_, fighting against the Turks, and +putting his life in jeopardy at every step he made. + +For a man of Radonic's frame of mind, there was something enticing in +the life he was leading; struggles and storms seemed congenial to his +nature. On board his ship he would only cast away his sullenness when +danger was approaching, and hum a tune in the midst of the tempest; +in fact, he only seemed to breathe at ease when a stiff gale was +blowing. + +He arrived at Cettinje on the eve of an expedition against the Turks, +just when every man that could bear a gun was welcome, especially +when he made no claim to a share of the booty. Having reached the +confines of Montenegro, amidst those dark rocks, in that eyrie of the +brave, having the sky for his roof and his gun for a pillow, life for +the first time seemed to him worth living. He did not fear death +--nay, he almost courted it. He felt no boding cares for the morrow; +the present moment was more than enough for him. Though he lacked +entirely all the softness of disposition that renders social life +agreeable, he had in him some of the qualities of a hero, or, at +least, of a great military chief--boldness, hardihood and valour. +During the whole of his lifetime he had always tried to make himself +feared, never loved. He cared neither for the people's admiration nor +for their disdain; he only required implicit obedience to orders +given. With such a daring, unflinching character, he soon acquired a +name that spread terror whenever it was uttered; and in a skirmish +that took place a week after his arrival at Cettinje, he killed a +Turkish chieftain, cut off his head, and sent it, by a prisoner he +had taken, to the _Pasha_ of the neighbouring province, informing +this official that he would, if God granted him life, soon treat him +in the same way. A high sum was at once set upon his head, but it was +an easier thing to offer the prize than to obtain it. + +Radonic would have been happy enough now, had he not been married, +or, at least, if he had been wedded to a woman who loved him, and who +would have welcomed him home after a day's, or a week's, hard +fighting--who would have mourned for him had he never come back; but, +alas! he knew that Milena hated him. Roaming in the lonely forests, +climbing on the trackless mountains, lurking amidst the dark rocks +and crags, his heart yearned for the wife he had ill-treated. + +A month, and even more, had elapsed since Vranic had been murdered. +Zwillievic, his father-in-law, had been in Budua, and he had then +come back to Cettinje; but, far from bringing Milena with him, he had +left his wife there to take care of this daughter of his, who, in the +state in which she was, had never recovered from the terrible shock +she had received on that morning when she stumbled upon Vranic's +corpse. + +All kinds of doubts again assailed him, and jealousy, that had always +been festering in his breast, burst out afresh, fiercer than ever; it +preyed again upon him, embittered his life. After all, was it not +possible that Milena was only shamming simply not to come to +Cettinje? Perhaps, he thought, one of the many young men who had +tried to flirt with her, was now at Budua making love to her. + +He, therefore, made up his mind to brave the _pamdours_ (the Austrian +police), to meet with the anger of Vranic's brothers, just to see +Milena again, and find out how she fared, and what she was doing. He, +one evening, started from Cettinje, went down the steep road leading +to the sea-shore, got to the gates of the town at nightfall, and, +wrapped in his great-coat, with his hood pulled down over his eyes, +he crossed the town and reached his house. + +He stopped at the window and looked in; Milena was nowhere to be +seen. He was seized by a dreadful foreboding--what if he had come too +late? Two women were standing near the door of the inner room, +talking. He, at first, could hardly recognise them by the glimmering +light of the oil-lamp; still, after having got nearer the window, he +saw that one of them was Mara Bellacic, and the other his +mother-in-law. + +He then went to the door, tapped gently, and pushed it open; seeing +him, both the women started back astonished. + +His first question was, of course, about his wife. She was a little +better, they said, but still very ill. + +"She is asleep now. You can come in and see her, but take care not to +wake her," added Milena's mother. + +"Yes," quoth Mara, "take care, for should she wake and see you so +unexpectedly, the shock might be fatal." + +Radonic went noiselessly up to the door of the bedroom and peeped in. +Seeing Milena lying motionless on the bed, pale, thin and haggard, he +was seized with a feeling of deep pity, such as he had never felt +before in the whole of his life, and he almost cursed the memory of +his mother, for she had been the first to set him against his wife, +and had induced him to be so stern and harsh towards her. + +He skulked about that night, and on the following day he sent for +Bellacic, for Markovic, and for some kinsmen and acquaintances, and +asked them to help him out of his difficulties. They at once +persuaded him to try and make it up with Vranic's relations, to pay +the _karvarina_ money, and thus hush up the whole affair. + +While public opinion was favourable to him, it would be easy enough +to find several persons to speak in his behalf, to act as mediators +or umpires, and settle the price to be paid for the blood that had +been spilt. + +Although the Montenegrins and the inhabitants of the Kotar, as well +as almost all Dalmatians, are--like the Corsicans--justly deemed a +proud race, amongst whom every wrong must be washed out with blood, +and although they all have a strong sense of honour, so that revenge +becomes a sacred duty, jealously transmitted from one generation to +another, still the old Biblical way of settling all litigations with +fines, and putting a price for the loss of life, is still in full +force amongst them. + +In the present case Vranic's brothers were quite willing to come to a +compromise, that is to say, to give up all thoughts of vengeance, +provided, after all the due formalities had taken place, an adequate +sum were paid to them. First, they had never been fond of their +brother; secondly, they knew quite well that Radonic was fully +justified in what he had done, and that, moreover, everybody +commended him for his rash deed; thirdly, having inherited their +brother's property, the little sorrow they had felt for him the first +moment had quite passed away. + +Markovic and Bellacic set themselves to work at once. Their first +care was to find six young and, possibly, handsome women, with six +babes, who, acting as friends to Radonic, would go to Vranic's +brothers and intercede for him. + +It was rather a difficult task, for Radonic had few friends at Budua. +All the sailors that had been with him had not only rued the time +spent on his ship, but had been enemies to him ever afterwards. He +had married a wife from Montenegro, envied for her beauty, and not +much liked by the gentler sex. Milena had been too much admired by +men for women to take kindly to her; still, as she was now on a bed +of sickness, and all her beauty blasted, envy had changed into pity. + +After no end of trouble, many promises of silk kerchiefs, yards of +stuff for dresses, or other trifles, six rather good-looking women, +and the same number of chubby babies, were mustered, and, on a day +appointed for the purpose, they were to go, together with Markovic +and Bellacic, to sue for peace. + +In the meanwhile Radonic had stealthily called on a number of +persons, had invited them to drink with him, related to them the +number of Turks he had shot, and by sundry means managed to dispose +them in his favour. They, by their influence, tried to pacify the +Vranic family, and a month's truce was granted to Radonic, during +which time the preliminaries of peace were undertaken. + +At last, after many consultations and no end of smooth talking, the +day for the ceremony of the _karvarina_ was fixed upon. Markovic and +Bellacic, together with the six women, carrying their babes and +followed by a crowd of spectators, went up to Vranic's house. As soon +as they got to the door, the women fell down on their knees, bowing +down their heads, and, whilst the babes began to shriek lustily, the +men called out, in a loud voice: + +"Vranic, our brother in God and in St. John, we greet you! Take pity +on us, and allow us to come within your house." + +Having repeated this request three times--during which the women +wailed and the babies shrieked always louder--the door at last was +opened, and the murdered man's two younger brothers appeared on the +threshold. + +Though all the household had been for more than two hours on the +look-out for this embassy, still the two men put on an astonished +look, as if they had not the remotest idea as to what it all meant, +or why or wherefore the crowd had gathered round their house. + +Standing on the threshold they inquired of the men what they wanted, +after which they went and, taking every woman by the hand, made her +get up; then, imprinting a kiss on every howling babe, they tried to +soothe and quiet it. This ceremony over, the women were begged to +enter the house and be seated. Once inside, Bellacic, acting as chief +intercessor, handed to the Vranics six yards of fine cloth which +Radonic had provided him with, this being one of the customary peace +offerings. Then, taking a big bottle of plum brandy from the hands of +one of his attendants, he poured out a glass and offered it to the +master of the house; the glass went round, and the house soon echoed +with the shouts of "_Zivio!_" or "Long life!" and the merriment +increased in the same ratio as the spirits in the huge bottle +decreased. + +When everybody was in a boisterous good-humour--except the two +Vranics, for strong drink only rendered them peevish and +quarrelsome--the subject of the visit was broached. + +Josko Vranic, the elder of the two brothers, would at first not +listen to Bellacic's request. + +"What!" exclaimed he, in the flowery style of Eastern mourners, "do +you ask me to come to terms with Radonic, who cruelly murdered my +brother? Do you wish me to press to my heart the viper from whose +teeth we still smart? Do you think I have no soul, no faith? Oh! my +poor brother"--(he hated him in his lifetime)--"my poor brother, +murdered in the morning of his life, in the spring of his youth, a +star of beauty, a lion of strength and courage; had the murderer's +hand but spared him, what great things might he not have done! Oh, my +brother, my beloved brother! No; blood alone can avenge blood, and +his soul can never rest in peace till my dagger is sheathed in his +murderer's heart. No, Radonic must die; blood for blood; life for +life. I must find out the foul dog and strangle him as he strangled +my beloved brother, or I am no true Slav. Tell me where he is, if you +know, that I may tear him to pieces; for nothing can arrest my arm!" + +Josko Vranic was a tailor, and a very peaceful kind of a tailor into +the bargain. It is true that, when his brain was fuddled with drink, +he was occasionally blood-thirsty; but his rage expended itself far +more in words than in deeds. For the present, he was simply trying to +act his part well, and was only repeating hackneyed phrases often +uttered in houses of mourning, at funerals, and at wakes. + +All his thoughts were bent on the sum of money he might obtain for +_karvarina_, and he, therefore, thought that the more he magnified +his grief, the greater would be the sum he might ask for blood-money. + +Bellacic and Markovic, as well as the other friends of both parties +gathered in the house, deemed it advisable to leave him to give +utterance to his grief. Then, when he had said his say and the +children were quieted, Radonic's friends began to persuade him to +forego all ideas of vengeance, and--after much useless talking--many +prayers from the women, and threats from the babes to begin shrieking +again, Vranic agreed that he would try and smother his grief, nay, +for their sakes, forget his resentment; therefore, after much +cogitation, he named a jury of twenty-four men to act as arbitrators +between him and the murderer, and settle the price that was to be +paid for the blood. This jury was, of course, composed of persons +that he thought hated Radonic, and who would at least demand a sum +equivalent to L200 or L300. He little knew how much his own brother +had been disliked, and the low price that was set on his life. + +These twenty-four persons having been appointed, Radonic called upon +all of them, and got them to meet at Bellacic's house the day before +the ceremony of the _karvarina_; he sent there some small barrels of +choice wine, and provisions of all kinds for the feast of that day, as +well as for the banquet of the morrow, for he knew quite well that +the gall of a bitter enemy is less acrid after a good dinner, and +that an indifferent person becomes a friend when he is chewing the +cud of the dainty things you have provided for him. + +As soon as supper was over, and while the _bucara_ of sweet _muscato_ +wine was being handed round, Bellacic submitted the case to the +twenty-four arbiters, expatiated like a lawyer on the heinous way +Vranic had acted, how like a real snake he had crept between husband +and wife, trying to put enmity between them, and how he had succeeded +in his treachery, doing all this to seduce a poor distracted woman. + +"Now," continued Bellacic, "put yourselves in Radonic's place and +tell me how you yourselves would have acted. If you have the right to +shoot the burglar who, in the dead of night, breaks into your house +to rob you of your purse, is it not natural that you should throttle +the ruffian who, under the mantle of friendship, sneaks into your +bedroom to rob you of your honour? Is the life of such a man worth +more than that of the scorpion you crush under your heel? Vranic was +neither my friend nor my enemy; therefore, I have no earthly reason +to set you against him, nor to induce you to be friendly towards +Radonic. I only ask you to be just, and to tell me the worth of the +blood he has spilt." + +Bellacic stopped for a moment to see the effect of his speech on his +listeners. All seemed to approve his words no less than they did the +sweet wine of the _bucara_; then after a slight pause, he again went +on. + +"Radonic may have many faults, nay, he has many; are we not all of us +full of blemishes? Still, the poor that will be fed for many days +from the crumbs of our feast will surely not say that he is a miser. +Still--withal he is lavish--one thing he is fully determined not to +do, that is to pay more for the blood he has spilt than it is really +worth. + +"It is true that the heirs of the dead man are filling the whole town +with their laments; but do you think that those who mourn so loudly +would gladly welcome their brother back, nay, I ask you how many hands +would be stretched out to greet Vranic if the grave were to yawn and +give up the dead man. Who, within his innermost heart, is not really +glad to have got rid of a man who carried an evil influence with him +whithersoever he went? + +"But speaking the truth in this case is almost like trying to set you +against the exaggerated claims of the late man's brothers; whilst you +all know quite well that I only wish you to act according to your +better judgment, and whatever your decision be, we shall abide by it. +You are husbands, you are Slavs; the honour of your homes, of your +children, of your wives is dear to you; therefore, I drink to your +honour with Radonic's wine." + +As the _bucara_ could not go round fast enough, so glasses were +filled, and toasts were drunk. After that, Bellacic left the room, so +that the jury might discuss the matter under no restraint. Although +twenty of the men were in favour of Radonic, still four thought that +the arguments used in his favour had been so brilliant that Bellacic +had rather charmed than convinced them. They were, however, overruled +by the many, and the bumpers they swallowed in the heat of the +argument ended by convincing them, too. + +"Gentlemen," said Bellacic, coming back, "I shall not ask you now if +Vranic's life was worth a herd or a single cow, a flock or a single +sheep, or even a goat, for here is Teodoroff, the _guzlar_, who is +going to enliven us with the glorious battle of Kossovo, and the +great deeds of our immortal Kraglievic." + +The bard came in, and he was listened to with rapt attention during +the half-hour that his poem lasted. No one spoke, or drank, or even +moved; all remained as if spell-bound; their eyes seemed to seek for +the words as they flowed from the poet's lips. At last the _guzlar_ +stopped, and after a few moments of silence, shouts of applause broke +forth. Just then Radonic came into the room, and the twenty-four men +all shook hands with him heartily, and, excited as the audience was +with the daring deeds of Marko Kraglievic, Bellacic made him relate +some of his encounters with the Turks, and show the holes in his coat +through which the bullets had passed. + +"And now, Teodoroff," said Radonic, finishing the story of his +exploits, "give us something lively; I think we've had enough of +bloodshed for the whole evening." + +"Yes," added Bellacic; "but let us first finish the business for +which we have been brought together, and then we can devote the +remainder of our time to pleasure." + +"Yes," retorted one of the twenty-four arbitrators, "it's time the +matter was settled." + +"Well, then," quoth Markovic, "what is the price of the _jettatore_'s +life?" + +"As for me," said one of the younger men, "it's certainly not worth +that of a cow!" + +"No, nor that of a goat!" added another. + +"Well, let's be generous towards the tailor," said Bellacic, +laughing, "and settle his brother's life at the price of a huge +silver Maria Theresa dollar, eh?" + +Some of the arbitrators were about to demur, but as the proposal had +come from them, they could not well gainsay it. + +"Then it's settled," said Bellacic, hastening to fill the glasses; +"and now, Teodoroff, quick! give us one of your best songs; something +brisk and lively." + +The _guzlar_ took up his instrument, played a few bars as a kind of +prelude, emitted a prolonged "Oh!" which ended away in a trill, and +then began the tale of + + +MARKO KRAGLIEVIC AND JANKO OF SEBINJE. + + Two brave and bonny knights, both bosom friends, + Were Marko Kraglievic of deathless fame, + And Janko of Sebinje, fair and wise. + Both seemed to have been cast within one mould, + For no two brothers could be more alike. + One day, as they were chatting o'er their wine, + Fair Janko said unto his faithful friend: + "My wife has keener eyes than any man's, + And sharper wits besides; our sex is dull; + No man has ever played a trick on her." + Then Marko, smiling, said: "Do let me try + To match, in merry sport, my wits 'gainst hers." + "'Tis well," quoth Janko, with a winsome smile, + "But, still, beware of woman's subtle guile." + Then 'twixt the friends a wager soon was laid; + Fair Janko pledged his horse, a stallion rare, + A fleet and milk-white steed, Kula by name, + And with his horse he pledged his winsome wife; + Whilst, for his wager, Marko pawned his head. + "Now, one thing more; lend me thy clothes," said Mark, + "Thy jewelled weapons, and thy milk-white steed." + And Janko doffed, and Marko donned the clothes, + Then buckled on his friend's bright scimitar. + As soon as Janko's wife spied him from far, + She thought it was her husband, and ran out; + But then she stopped, for something in his mien, + Which her quick eye perceived, proclaimed at once + That warlike knight upon her husband's horse + To be the outward show, the glittering garb + And a fair mirage of the man she loved. + Thereon within her rooms she hied in haste, + And to her help she called her trusty maid. + "O Kumbra, sister mine," she said to her, + "I know not why, but Janko seems so wroth. + Put on my finest clothes, and hie to him." + When Marko saw the maid, he turned aside, + And wrapped himself within his wide _kalpak_, + Then said that he would fain be left alone. + He thought, in sooth, that she was Janko's wife. + A dainty meal was soon spread for the knight. + The lady called again her trusted maid, + And thus she spake: "My Kumbra, for this night + Sleep in my room, nay, in my very bed. + And, for the deed that I demand of thee, + This purse of gold is thine. Besides this gift, + Thou henceforth wilt be free." The maiden bowed, + And said: "My lady's wish is law for me." + Now Marko at his meal sat all alone, + When he had supped he went into the room + Where Kumbra was asleep; there he sat down, + And passed the whole long night upon a chair, + Close by the young girl's bed. He seemed to be + A father watching o'er his sickly child. + But when the gloaming shed its glimmering light, + The knight arose; he went, with stealthy steps, + And cut a lock from off the young girl's head, + Which he at once hid in his breast, with care. + Before the maiden woke he left the house, + And rode full-speed back to his bosom friend. + Still, ere he had alighted from his horse: + "You've lost!" said Janko, with his winsome smile. + "I've won!" quoth Marko, with a modest grace; + "Here is the token that I've won my bet." + And Janko took the golden curl, amazed. + Just then a page, who rode his horse full-speed, + Came panting up, and, on his bended knee, + He handed to his lord a parchment scroll. + The letter thus began: "O husband mine, + Why sendest thou such pert and graceless knights, + That take thy manor for a roadside inn, + And in the dead of night clip Kumbra's locks?" + Thereon, in sprightly style, the wife then wrote + All that had taken place the day before. + And Janko, as he read, began to laugh. + Then, turning to his friend: "Sir Knight," quoth he, + "Have henceforth greater care of thine own head, + Which now, by right and law, belongs to me. + Beware of woman, for the wisest man + Has not the keenness of a maiden's eye. + Come, now, I pledge thy health in foaming wine, + For this, indeed, hath been a merry joke." + + +The greater part of the night was passed in drinking and in listening +to the bard's songs. Little by little sleepiness and the fumes of the +wine overpowered each single man, so that in the small hours almost +all the guests were stretched on the mats that strewed the floor, +fast asleep. + +On the morrow the twenty-four men of the jury went, all in a body, to +Vranic's house. They sat down in state and listened to the tale of +the brothers' grievances, whilst they sipped very inferior +_slivovitz_ and gravely smoked their long pipes. When the tailor +ended the oft-repeated story of his grief and grievances, then they +went back to Bellacic's house, where they gave ear to all the +extenuating circumstances which Radonic brought forward to exculpate +himself. After the culprit had finished, the twenty-four men sat down +in council, and discussed again the matter which had been settled the +evening before. + +A slight, but choice, repast was served to them; and Radonic took +care that no fault could be found with the wine, for he feared that +they might, in their soberer senses, change their mind and reverse +their opinion. + +The dinner had been cooked to perfection, the wine was of the best, +the arguments Radonic had brought forward to clear himself were +convincing--even the four that had been wavering the evening before +were quite for him now. The majority of these men were married, and +jealous of their honour; the others were going to marry, and were +even more jealous than the married men. If Radonic could not be +absolved entirely, still he could hardly be condemned. + +Thus the day passed in much useless talking and discussing, and night +came on. At sundown the guests began to pour in, and soon the house +was crowded. A deputation was then sent to the Vranic family to beg +them to come to the feast. The tailor at first demurred; but being +pressed he yielded, and came with his brother. + +The evening began with the _Karva-Kolo_, or the blood-dance. It is +very like the usual _Kolo_, only the music, especially in the +beginning, is a kind of funeral march, or a dirge; soon the movement +gets brisker, until it changes into the usual _Kolo_ strain. The +orchestra that evening was a choice one; it consisted of two +_guzlas_, a _dipla_ or bag-pipe, and a _sfiraliza_ or Pan's +seven-reeded flute. Later on there was even a triangle, which kept +admirable time. + +A couple of dancers began, another joined in, and so on, until the +circle widened, and then all the people who were too lazy to dance +had either to leave the room or stand close against the wall, so as +not to be in the way. Just when the dance had reached its height, and +the men were twirling the girls about as in the mazy evolutions of +the cotillon, Radonic, who had kept aloof, burst into the room. A +moment of confusion ensued, the dancers stopped, the middle of the +room was cleared, the music played again a low dirge. The guilty man +stood alone, abashed; around his neck, tied to a string, he wore the +dagger with which he might have stabbed Vranic had he not throttled +him. + +As soon as he appeared two of the twenty-four arbitrators, who had +been on the look-out for him, rushed and seized him. Then, feigning a +great wrath, they dragged him towards Vranic, as if they had just +captured him and brought him to be tried. + +"Drag that murderer away, cast him out of the house; or, rather, +leave him to me. Let me kill him." + +"Forgive me," exclaimed Radonic. + +"Down upon him!" cried Vranic. + +The arbitrators thereupon made the culprit bow down so low that his +head nearly touched the floor; then all the assembly uttered a deep +sigh, or rather, a wail, craving--in the name of the Almighty and of +good St. John--forgiveness for the guilty man. + +"Forgiveness," echoed Radonic, for the third time. + +The dancers, who had again begun to walk in rhythmic step around the +room, forming a kind of _chassez-croisez_, stopped, and the music +died away in a low moan. + +There was a moment of eager theatrical expectation. The murdered +man's brother seemed undecided as to what he had to do; at last, +after an inward struggle, he yielded to his better feelings, and +going up to Radonic, he took him by the hand, lifted him up and +kissed him on his forehead. + +A sound of satisfaction, like a sigh of relief, passed through the +assembly; but then Vranic said, in a voice which he tried to render +sweet and soft: + +"Listen, all of you. This man, who has hitherto been my bitterest +enemy, has now become my friend; nay, more than my friend, my very +brother, and not to me alone, but to all who were related to my +beloved brother. All shall forego every wish or idea of revenge, now +and hereafter." + +Thereupon, taking a very small silver coin, he cut it in two, gave +Radonic half, and kept the other for himself, as a pledge of the +friendship he had just sworn. + +When peace had been restored, and everybody had drunk to Radonic's +and Vranic's health, then the _Starescina_, or the oldest arbitrator, +whose judgment was paramount, stood up and made a speech, in which he +uttered the decision of the jury and the sentence of the _karvarina_, +that is to say, that, taking into consideration all the extenuating +circumstances under which the murder had been committed, Radonic was +to pay to Vranic the sum of a silver Maria Theresa dollar, the usual +price of a goat. + +"What!" cried the tailor, in a fit of unsuppressed rage; "do you mean +to say that my brother's life was only worth that of a goat?" + +A slight, subdued tittering was heard amongst the crowd; for, indeed, +it was almost ludicrous to see the little man, pale, trembling and +almost green with rage. + +"No," quoth the umpire, gravely; "I never said that your brother's +life was worth that of a whole herd or of a single goat; the price +that we, arbitrators named by you, have condemned Radonic to pay is a +silver dollar. Put yourself in the murderer's place, and tell us what +you would have done." + +Vranic shrugged his shoulders scornfully. + +"We do not appeal to you alone, but to any man of honour, to any Iugo +Slav, to any husband of the Kotar. What would he have done to a man +who, pretending to be his friend, came by stealth, in the middle of +the night, into his home to----" + +"Then," cried Vranic, in that shrill, womanish voice peculiar to all +his family, "it is not my brother that ought to have been killed. Was +he to blame if he was enticed----" + +"What do you mean?" cried Radonic, clasping the haft of the dagger, +which he ought to have given up to Vranic. + +"Silence!" said the umpire: "you forget that you have promised to +love----" + +"If you intend to speak of Milena," said Bellacic, interrupting the +judge, "you must remember that the evening upon which your brother +was killed she was spending the evening----" + +"At your house? No!" said Vranic, with a scornful laugh, shrugging +his shoulders again. + +"Come, come," said one of the jury; "let's settle the _karvarina_." + +"Besides," added another arbitrator, ingenuously, "Radonic has been +put to the expense of more than fifty goats. Until now, no man has +ever----" + +"Oh, I see!" interrupted the tailor, with a withering sneer; "he has +bribed the few friends my poor brother had, so now even those have +turned against him." + +Oaths, curses, threats were uttered by the twenty-four men, and the +younger and more hasty ones instinctively sought the handles of their +daggers. + +"Gentlemen," said Bellacic, "supper is ready; the two men have sworn +to be friends----" + +"I've sworn nothing at all," muttered the tailor, between his teeth. + +"Let us sit down," continued the master of the house, "and try to +forget our present quarrels; we'll surely come to a better +understanding when cakes flowing with honey and sweet wine are +brought on the table." + +They now carried in for the feast several low, stool-like tables, +serving both as boards and dishes. On each one there was a whole +roasted lamb, resting on a bed of rice. Every guest took out his +dagger and carved for himself the piece he liked best or the one he +could easiest reach, and which he gnawed, holding the bone as a +handle, if there was one, or using the flat, pancake-like bread--the +_chupatti_ of the Indians, the flap-jacks of the Turks--as plates. +Soon the wooden _bukaras_ were handed around, and then all ill-humour +was drowned in the heady wine of the rich Dalmatian soil. After the +lambs and rice, big sirloins of beef and huge tunny-fish followed in +succession, then game, and lastly, pastry and fruit. + +After more than two hours of eating and drinking, with interludes of +singing and shouting, the meal at last came to an end. The gentlemen +of the jury, whose brains had been more or less muddled from the day +before, were now, almost without any exception, quite drunk. As for +the guests, some were jovial and boisterous, others tender and +sentimental. Radonic's face was saturnine; Markovic, who was always +loquacious, and who spoke in Italian when drunk, was making a long +speech that had never had a beginning and did not seem to come to an +end; and the worst of it was that, during the whole time, he clasped +tightly one of the _bukaras_, and would not relinquish his hold of +it. + +As for Vranic and his younger brother, they had both sunk down on the +floor sulky and silent. The more they ate and drank, the more +weazened and wretched they looked, and the expression of malice on +their angry faces deepened their wrinkles into a fiendish scowl. + +"I think," said the elder brother, "it is time all this was over, and +that we should be going." + +"Going?" exclaimed all the guests who heard it. "And where do you +want to go?" + +"Oh, if he isn't comfortable, let him go!" said one of the +arbitrators. "I'm sure I don't want to detain him; his face isn't so +pleasant to look at that we should beg him to stay--no, nor his +company either." + +"Oh, I daresay you would like to get rid of me, all of you!" + +"Well, then, shall we wind up this business?" said the judge of the +_karvarina_, putting his hand on Radonic's shoulder. + +"I am quite ready," said he. + +Thereupon he drew forth his leather purse and took out several Maria +Theresa dollars. + +"Shall we make it five instead of one?" he asked, spreading out the +new and shining coins on his broad palm. "Now, tell me, tailor, if I +am niggardly with my money?" he added, handing the sum to Vranic. + +The tailor seized the dollars and clenched his fist; then, with a +scowl: + +"I don't want any of your charity," he hissed out in a shrill treble. +"Five are almost worth six goats, and my brother is worth but one. +Here, take your money back; distribute it among the arbitrators, to +whom you have been so generous. No, _heyduk_, you are not niggardly; +but, then, what are a few dollars to you? a shot of your gun and your +purse is full. Thanks all the same, I only want my due. No robber's +charity for me." And with these words he flung the five dollars in +Radonic's face. + +The sharp edge of one of the coins struck Radonic on the corner of +the eye, just under the brow, and the blood trickled down. All his +drunkenness vanished, his gloomy look took a fierce expression, and +with a bound he was about to seize his antagonist by the throat and +strangle him as he had done his brother; but Vranic, who was on his +guard, lifted up the knife he had received from the murderer a few +hours before, and quick as lightning struck him a blow on his breast. + +"This is my _karvarina_," said he; "tooth for tooth, eye for eye, +blood for blood." + +The blow had been aimed at Radonic's heart, but he parried it and +received a deep gash in the fore-part of his arm. + +A scuffle at once ensued; some of the less drunken men threw +themselves on Vranic, others on Radonic. + +"Sneak, traitor, coward!" shouted the chief arbitrator, striking +Vranic in the face and almost knocking him down; "how dare you do +such a thing after having begged us to settle the _karvarina_ for +you?" + +"And you've settled it nicely, indeed; gorged with his meat, drunk +with his wine, and your purses filled with his money." + +"Liar!" shouted the men of the jury. + +"Out of my house, you scorpion, and never cross its threshold again." + +"I go, and I'm only too glad to be rid of you all;--but as for you," +said Vranic to Bellacic, "had it not been for you, all this would not +have happened." + +"What have I to do with it?" + +"Did you not come to beg me to make it up? But I suppose you were +anxious to have the whole affair hushed up as quickly as possible." + +"Fool!" answered Bellacic. + +"Oh, Milena is not always at your house for nothing!" + +"What did he say?" asked Radonic, trying to break away from the hands +of the men who were holding him, and from Mara Bellacic, who was +bandaging up his wound. + +"What do you care what he said?" replied Bellacic; "his slander only +falls back upon himself, just as if he were spitting in the wind; it +can harm neither you nor Milena." + +"Oh, we shall meet again!" cried Radonic. + +"We shall certainly meet, if ever you escape the Turkish gallows, or +the Austrian prisons." + +And as he uttered these last words, he disappeared in the darkness of +the road. + + + + +CHAPTER XV + +A COWARD'S VENGEANCE + + +When the _pobratim_ returned to Budua they found the whole town +divided into two camps, and, consequently, in a state of open war. +Since the evening of the _karvarina_ two parties had formed +themselves, the Vranites and the Radonites. The first, indeed, were +few, and did not consist of friends of Vranic, but simply of people +who had a grudge, not only against Radonic, but against Bellacic and +the twenty-four men of the jury, who were accused of peculation. On +the whole, public opinion was bitter against the tailor, for, after +having made peace with his enemy, he had tried to murder him; then +--as if this had not been enough--he had gone on the morrow and given +warning to the police that Radonic, who had cowardly murdered his +brother, had returned to Budua, and was walking about the streets +unpunished; moreover, that the _heyduk_ had threatened to murder him, +so he came to appeal for protection. + +This happened when Budua had just been incorporated with the Austrian +empire, and the people, jealous of their customs, looked upon the +protection of the government as an officious intermeddling with their +own private affairs, and strongly resented their being treated as +children unable to act for themselves. + +Although a few crimes had been left unpunished, simply not to rouse +at once the general feeling against its present masters, still the +new jurisdiction was bent upon putting a stop to the practice of the +_karvarina_; and to make this primitive country understand that, +under a civilised form of government, people paid taxes to be +protected by wise and just laws; therefore, it was the duty of a +well-regulated police to discover and punish equitably all offences +done to any particular man. + +In the present case, where notice was brought to the police of facts +that had happened, and aid was requested, steps had to be taken to +secure the person of the offender, and, therefore, to have Radonic +arrested at once for manslaughter. + +Friends, however, came at once to inform Radonic of what had taken +place, advising him to take flight, and put at once the border +mountains of Montenegro between himself and the Austrian police. + +The officials gave themselves and, what was far worse, everybody else +no end of trouble and annoyance with Vranic's case. They went about +arresting wrong persons, as a well-regulated police sometimes does, +and then, after much bother and many cross-examinations, everyone was +set free, and the whole affair dropped. + +Milena, who was slowly recovering from her long illness, was the +first to be summoned to answer about her husband's crime. Bellacic +was after that accused of sheltering the murderer, and threatened +with fines, confiscation, imprisonment and other such penalties; +then he was also set free. The twenty-four men of the jury were next +summoned; but, as they had only acted as peacemakers on behalf of +Vranic, they, too, were reprimanded, and then sent about their +business. + +After this Vranic's partisans dwindled every day, till at last he +found himself shunned by everyone. Even his customers began to +forsake him, and to have their clothes made by a more fortunate +competitor. At last he could not go out in the streets without having +the children scream out after him: + +"Spy! spy! Austrian spy!" + +The clergy belonging to the Orthodox faith looked upon the new law +against the _karvarina_ as an encroachment on their privileges. A +tithe of the price of blood-money always went to the Church; sundry +candles had to be lighted to propitiate, not God or Christ, but some +of the lower deities and mediators of the Christian creed. The law, +which took from them all interference in temporal matters, was a blow +to their authority and to their purses. Even if they were not begged +to act as arbitrators, they were usually invited as guests to the +feast, so that some pickings and perquisites were always to be got. + +Vranic obtained no satisfaction from the police, to whom he had +applied; he was only treated as a cur by the whole population, was +nearly excommunicated by the Church, and looked upon as an apostate +from the saintly customs of the Iugo Slavs. + +Taunted by his own family with having made a muddle of the whole +affair, treated with scornful disdain by friends and foes, the poor +tailor, who had never been very good-tempered, had got to look upon +all mankind as his enemies. + +Thus it happened, one day, that Bellacic was at the coffee-house with +Markovic and some other friends, when Vranic came in to get shaved. + +"What! do you shear poodles and curs?" he asked. + +The loungers began to laugh. Vranic, whose face was being lathered, +ground his teeth and grunted. + +"I say, has he a medal round his neck?" + +"What! do they give a medal to spies?" asked one of the men. + +"No," quoth Bellacic; "but according to their law, no dog is allowed +to go about without a medal, which proves that he has paid his +taxes." + +"Keep quiet," said the barber and _kafedgee_, "or I'll cut you!" + +"Do government dogs also pay taxes?" said another man, smiling. + +"Ask the cur! he'll tell you," replied Bellacic. + +"Mind, Bellacic!" squeaked out Vranic, who was now shaved; "curs have +teeth!" + +"To grind, or to grin with?" + +"By St. George and St. Elias! I'll be revenged on all of you, and you +the very first!" and livid with rage, grinding his teeth, shaking his +fist, Vranic left the coffee-house, followed by the laughter of the +by-standers, and the barking of the boys outside. + +"He means mischief!" quoth the _kafedgee_. + +"When did he not mean mischief," replied Markovic, "or his brother +either?" + +"Don't speak of his brother." + +"Why, he's dead and buried." + +"The less you speak of some dead people, the better," and the +_kafedgee_ crossed himself. + +"He's a sly fox," said one of the men waiting to be shaved. + +"Pooh! foxes are sometimes taken in by an old goose, as the story +tells us." + +Everybody knew the old story, but, as the barber was bent upon +telling it, his customers were obliged to listen. + + +Once upon a time, there was a little silver-grey hen, that got into +such an ungovernable fit of sulks, that she left the pleasant +poultry-yard where she had been born and bred, and escaped on to the +highway by a gap in the hedge. The reason of her ill-humour was that +she had seen her lord and master flirt with a moulting old hatching +hen, and she had felt ruffled at his behaviour. + +"Surely, the only advantage that old hen has over me," she +soliloquised, "is a greater experience of life. If I can but see a +little more of the world, I, too, might be able to discuss +philosophical topics with my husband, instead of cackling noisily +over a new-laid egg. It is an undeniable fact that home-keeping hens +have only homely wits, and cocks are only hen-pecked by hens of +loftier minds than themselves, and not by such common-place females +who think that life has no other aim than that of laying a fresh egg +every day." + +On the other side of the hedge she met a large turkey strutting +gravely about, spreading out his tail, making sundry gurgling noises +in his throat, puffing and swelling himself in an apoplectic way, +until he got of a bluish, livid hue about his eyes, whilst his gills +grew purple. + +Surely, thought the little grey hen, that turkey must be a doctor of +divinity who knows the aim of life; every word that falls from his +beak must be a priceless pearl. + +The little silver-grey hen looked at him with the corner of her eye, +just as coquettish ladies are apt to do when they look at you over +the corners of their fans. + +"I say, Mrs. Henny, whither are you bound, all alone?" said the old +turkey, with his round eyes. + +"I am bent upon seeing a little of the world and improving my mind," +said the little hen. + +"A most laudable intention," said the turkey; "and if you'll permit +me, young madam, I myself will accompany, or rather, escort you in +this journey, tour, or excursion of yours. And if the little +experience I have acquired can be of some slight use to you----" + +"How awfully good of you!" said the gushing little hen. "Why, really, +it would be too delightful!" + +As they went on their way the old turkey at once informed the little +hen that he was a professor of the Dovecot University, and he at once +began to expatiate learnedly about adjectives, compounds, anomalous +verbs, suffixes and prefixes, of objective cases and other such +interesting topics. She listened to him for some time, although she +could not catch the drift of his speech. At last she came to the +conclusion that all this must be transcendental philosophy, so she +repeated mechanically to herself all the grave words he spouted, and +of the whole lecture she just made out a charming little phrase, with +which she thought she would crush her husband some day or other. It +was: "Don't run away with the idea that I'm anomalous enough to be +governed by objective cases, for, after all, what's a husband but a +prefix?" + +"And are you married?" asked the little hen, as soon as the turkey +had stopped to take breath. + +"I am," said the old turkey, with a sigh, "and although I have a +dozen wives, I must say I haven't yet found one sympathetic listener +amongst them." + +"Are they worldly-minded?" asked she. + +"They are frivolous, they think that the aim of life is laying eggs." + +"Pooh!" said the little hen, scornfully. + +As they went along, they met a gander, which looked at them from over +a palisade. + +"I say, where are you two off to?" + +"We are bent upon seeing the world and improving our minds." + +"How delightful. Now tell me, would it be intruding if I joined your +party? I know they say: Two are company, and three are not, still----" + +"They also say: The more the merrier," quoth the little hen. + +The turkey blushed purple, but he managed to keep his temper. + +They went on together, and the gander, who was a great botanist, told +them the name of every plant they came across; and then he spoke very +learnedly with the turkey about Greek roots and Romance particles. + +A little farther on they met a charming little drake with a killing +curled feather in his tail, quite an _accroche-coeur_, and the little +hen ogled him and scratched the earth so prettily with her feet that +at last she attracted the drake's notice. + +After some cackling the little drake joined the tourists, +notwithstanding the gurgling of the turkey and the hissing of the +gander. + +As they went on, they of course spoke of matrimony; the gander +informed them that he was a bachelor, and the little drake added that +he was an apostle of free love, at which the little hen blushed, the +turkey puffed himself up until he nearly burst, and the gander looked +grave. The worst of it was, that the little drake insisted on +discussing his theories and trying to make proselytes. + +They were so intently attending to the little drake's wild theories, +that they hardly perceived a hare standing on his hind legs, with his +ears pricked up, listening to and looking at them. + +The hare, having heard that they were globe-trotters, bent upon +seeing the world and improving their minds, joined their party at +once; they even, later on, took with them a tortoise and a hedgehog. +At nightfall, they arrived in a dense forest, where they found a +large hollow tree, in the trunk of which they all took shelter. + +The little hen ensconced herself in a comfortable corner, and the +drake nestled close by her; the hare lay at her feet, and the gander +and turkey on either side. The tortoise and the hedgehog huddled +themselves up and blocked up the opening, keeping watch lest harm +should befall them. + +They passed the greater part of the night awake, telling each other +stories; and as it was in the dark, the tales they told were such as +could not well be repeated in the broad daylight. + +Soon, however, the laughter was more subdued; the chuckling even +stopped. Sundry other noises instead were heard; then the drowsy +voices of the story-tellers ceased; they had all fallen fast asleep. + +Just then, while the night wind was shivering through the boughs, and +the moon was silvering the boles of the ash-trees, or changing into +diamonds the drops of dew in the buttercups and bluebells, a young +vixen invited a shaggy wolf to come and have supper with her. + +"This," she said, stopping before the hollow tree, "is my larder. You +must take pot-luck, for I'm sure I don't know what there is in it. +Still, it is seldom empty." + +The wolf tried to poke his nose in, but he was stopped by the +tortoise. + +"They have rolled a stone at the door," said the wolf. + +"So they have; but we can cast it aside," quoth the vixen. + +They tried to push the tortoise aside; but he clung to the sides of +the tree with his claws, so that it was impossible to remove him. + +"Let's get over the stone," said the wolf. + +They did their best to get over the tortoise, but they were met by +the hedgehog. + +"They've blocked up the place with brambles and thorns," said the +vixen. + +"So they have," replied the wolf. + +"What's to be done?" asked the one. + +"What's to be done?" replied the other. + +"I hear rascally robbers rummaging around," gurgled the turkey-cock, +in a deep, low tone. + +"Did you hear that?" asked the wolf. + +"Yes," said the vixen, rather uneasy. + +"We'll catch them, we'll catch them," cackled the hen. + +"For we are six, we are six," echoed the drake. + +"There are six of them," said the vixen. + +"And we are only two," retorted the wolf. + +"So they'll catch us," added the vixen. + +"Nice place your larder is," snarled the wolf. + +"I'm afraid the police have got into it," stammered the vixen. + +"Hiss, hiss, hiss!" uttered the gander, from within. + +"That's the scratch of a match," said the vixen. + +"If they see us we are lost," answered the wolf. + +Just then the turkey, who had puffed himself up to his utmost, +exploded with a loud puff. + +"Firearms," whispered the wolf. + +"It's either a mine or a bomb," quoth the vixen. + +"Dynamite," faltered the wolf. + +They did not wait to hear anything else; but, in their terror, they +turned on their heels and scampered off as fast as their legs could +carry them. In a twinkling they were both out of sight. + +The travellers in the hollow tree laughed heartily; then they +returned to their corners and went off to sleep. On the morrow, at +daybreak, they resumed their wanderings, and I daresay they are +travelling still, for it takes a long time to go round the world. + + +A few days afterwards Bellacic went to visit one of his vineyards. +This, of all his land, was his pride and his boast. He had, besides, +spent much money on it, for all the vines had been brought from Asia +Minor, and the grapes were of a quality far superior to those which +grew all around. The present crop was already promising to be a very +fair one. + +On reaching the first vines, Bellacic was surprised to perceive that +all the leaves were limp, withering or dry. The next vines were even +in a worse condition. He walked on, and, to his horror, he perceived +that the whole of his vineyard was seared and blasted, as if warm +summer had all at once changed into cold, bleak, frosty winter. Every +stem had been cut down to the very roots. Gloomy and disconsolate he +walked about, with head bent down, kicking every vine as he went on; +all, all were fit for firewood now. It was not only a heavy loss of +money, it was something worse. All his hopes, his pride, seemed to be +crushed, humbled by it. He had loved this vineyard almost as much as +his wife or his son, and now it was obliterated from the surface of +the earth. + +Had it been the work of Nature or the will of God, he would have +bowed his head humbly, and said: "Thy will be done"; but he was +exasperated to think that this had all been the work of a man--the +vengeance of a coward--a craven-hearted rascal that, after all, he +had never harmed, for this could be only Vranic's doing. In his +passion he felt that if he had held the dastard at that moment, he +would have crushed him under his feet like a reptile. + +As Bellacic slowly arrived at the other end of the vineyard, he felt +that just then he could not retrace his steps and cross the whole of +his withering vines once more. He stopped there for a few moments, +and looked around; then it seemed to him as if he had seen a man +crouch down and disappear behind the bushes. + +Could it be Vranic coming to gloat over him and enjoy his revenge? or +was it not an image of his over-heated imagination? + +He stood stock-still for a while, but nothing moved. He went slowly +on, and then he heard a slight rustling noise. He advanced, crouching +like a cat or a tiger, with fixed, dilated eyes and pricked-up ears. +He saw the bushes move, he heard the sound of footsteps; then he saw +the figure of a man bending low and running almost on all fours, so +as not to be seen. + +It was Vranic; now he could be clearly recognised. Bellacic ran after +him; Vranic ran still faster. All at once he caught his foot on a +root that had shot through the earth; he stumbled and fell down +heavily. As he rose, Bellacic came up to him. + +"Villain, scoundrel, murderer! is it you who----? Yes, it could be no +other dog than you! Moreover, you wanted to see how they looked." + +"What?" said Vranic, ghastly pale, trembling from head to foot. +"What?--I really don't know what you mean." + +"Do you say that you haven't cut down my vines?" + +"_I_ cut your vines? What vines?" + +"Have, at least, the courage of your cowardly deeds, you sneak." + +Thereupon Bellacic gave him a blow which made him reel. Vranic began +to howl, and to take all the saints as witnesses of his innocence. + +"Stop your lies, or I'll pluck that vile tongue of yours out of your +mouth, and cast it in your face!" + +Vranic thereupon took out his knife and tried to stab Bellacic. The +two men fought. + +"Is that the knife with which you cut my vines?" + +"No; I kept it for you," replied Vranic, aiming a deadly blow at his +adversary. + +Bellacic parried the blow, and in the scuffle which ensued Vranic +dropped his knife as his antagonist overpowered him and knocked him +down. + +Although Vranic was struggling with all his might, he was no match +for Bellacic, who pinned him down and managed to pick up the dagger. + +"You have cut down all my vines; now you yourself 'll have a taste of +your own knife." + +"Mercy! mercy! Do not kill me!" + +"No, no; I'll not kill you," said Bellacic, kneeling down upon him; +then, bending over him and catching hold of his right ear, he, with a +quick, firm hand, severed it at a stroke. + +Vranic was howling loud enough to be heard miles off. + +"Now for the other," said Bellacic. "I'll nail them to a post in my +vineyard as a scarecrow for future vermin of your kind." + +Vranic, however, wriggled, and, with an effort, managed to rise; then +he took to his heels, holding his bleeding head and yelling with pain +and fear. + +Bellacic made no attempt to stop him, or cut off his other ear, as he +had threatened to do; he quietly walked away, perfectly satisfied +with the punishment he had inflicted on the scoundrel. Instead of +returning home he thought it more prudent to go and spend the night +in the neighbouring convent, and thus avoid any conflict with the +police. + +Bellacic, who had ever been generous to the monks, was now welcomed +by the brotherhood; the best wine was brought forth and a lay servant +was at once despatched to town to find out what Vranic had done, and, +on the morrow, one of the friars themselves went to reconnoitre and +to inform Mara that her husband was safe and in perfect health. + +Upon that very day the _Spera in Dio_ cast anchor in the harbour of +Budua, and Uros reached home just when the police had come to arrest +his father for having cut off Vranic's ear; and the confusion that +ensued can hardly be described. + +For the sake of doing their duty, the guards, who were Buduans, made +a pretence of looking for Bellacic; they knew very well that he would +not be silly enough to wait till they came to arrest him. + +Mara, like all women in such an emergency, was thoroughly upset to +see the police in her house. She threw her arms round her son, and +begged him to keep quiet, and not to interfere in the matter, lest +their new masters' wrath should be visited upon him. Anyhow, as the +police tried to make themselves as little obnoxious as they possibly +could, and as they went through their duties with as much grace, and +as little zeal, as possible, Uros did not interfere to prevent them +from discharging their unpleasant task. + +The poor mother wept for joy at seeing her son, and for grief at the +thought that her husband was an exile from his house at his time of +life; but just then the good friar came in and brought news from +Bellacic, and comforted the family, saying that in a very few days +the whole affair would be quieted, and their guest would be able to +come back home. + +"And will he remain with you all that time?" asked Mara. + +"We should be very pleased to have him," replied the friar; "but for +his sake and ours, it were better for him to cross the mountain and +remain at Cettinje till the storm has blown over." + +"And when does he start?" + +"This evening." + +"May I come and see him before he goes?" asked Mara. + +"Certainly, and if you wish to go at once, I'll wait here a little +while longer, just not to awaken suspicion." + +Mara, therefore, went off at once, and the friar followed her a +quarter of an hour afterwards. + +Uros, on seeing Milena, felt as if he were suffocating; his heart +began to beat violently, and then it seemed to stop. He, for a +moment, gasped for breath. She, too, only recovering from her +illness, felt faint at seeing him. + +Uros found her looking handsomer and younger than before; her +complexion was so pale, her skin so transparent, that her eyes not +only looked much larger, but bluer and more luminous than ever. To +Uros they seemed rather like the eyes of an angel than those of a +woman. Her fingers were so long and thin; her hand was of a lily +whiteness, as it nestled in Uros' brown, brawny and sunburnt one. + +All her sprightliness was gone; the roguish smile had vanished from +her lips. Not only her features, but her voice had also changed; it +was now so pure, so weak, so silvery in its sound; so veiled withal, +like a voice coming from afar and not from the person sitting by you. +It was as painful to hear as if it had been a voice from beyond the +grave, and it sent a pang to the young man's heart. + +As he put his arm around her frail waist, the tears rose to his eyes, +and he could hardly find the words, or utter them softly enough, to +say to her: "Milena, _srce moja_," (my heart) "do you still love me?" + +"Hush, Uros!" said she, shuddering; "never speak to me of love +again." + +"Milena!" + +"Yes," continued she, sighing, "my sin has found me out. Had I +behaved as I should have done, so many people would not have come to +grief. Vranic might still have been alive." + +"But you never gave him any encouragement, did you?" said Uros, +misunderstanding her meaning. + +The tears started to her eyes. Weak as she was, she felt everything +acutely. + +"Do you think I could have done such a thing? And yet you are right; +I used to be so light once; but that seems to me so long, so very +long ago. But I have grown old since then, terribly old; I have +suffered so much." + +"I was wrong, dearest; forgive me. I remember how that fiend +persecuted you. I was near sending him to hell myself, and it was a +pity I didn't; anyhow, I was so glad when I heard that Radonic +had----" + +"Hush! I was the cause of that man's death. Through it my husband +became an outcast, and now your father has been obliged to flee from +his home----" + +"How can you blame yourself for all these things? It is only because +you have been so ill and weak that you have got such fancies into +your head; but now that I am here, and you know how much I love +you----" + +She shuddered spasmodically, and a look of intense pain and +wretchedness came over her features. + +"Never speak of love any more, unless you wish to kill me." + +Uros looked at her astonished. + +"I know that in all this I am entirely to blame; but if a woman can +atone for her sin by suffering, I think----" + +"Then you do not love me any more?" asked Uros, dejectedly. + +She looked up into his eyes, and, in that deep and earnest glance of +hers, she seemed to give up her soul to him. If months ago she had +loved him with all the levity of a reckless child, now she loved him +with all the pathos of a woman. + +Uros caught her in his arms and pressed her to his heart. She leaned +her head on his shoulder, as if unable to keep it upright; an ashy +paleness spread itself over all her features, her very lips lost all +their colour, her eyelids drooped; she had fainted. Uros, terrified, +thought she was dying, nay, dead. + +"Milena, my love, my angel, speak to me, for Heaven's sake!" he +cried. + +After a few moments, however, she slowly began to recover, and then +burst into a hysteric fit of sobbing. + +When at last she came again to her senses, she begged Uros never to +speak to her of love, as that would be her death. + +"Besides," added she, "now that I am better, I shall return to my +parents, for I can never go back to that dreadful house of mine. I +could never cross its threshold again." + +Uros was dismayed. He had been looking forward to his return with +such joy, and now that he was back, the woman he worshipped was about +to flee from him. + +"Do not look so gloomy," said she, trying to cheer him; "remember +that----" + +Her faltering, weak voice died in her throat; she could not bring +herself to finish her phrase. + +"What?" asked Uros, below his breath. + +"That I'm another man's wife." + +"Oh, Milena! don't say such horrible things; it's almost like +blasphemy." + +"And still it's true; besides----" + +Her voice, which had become steady, broke down again. + +"Besides what?" said Uros, after a moment's pause, leaving her time +to breathe. + +"You'll be a husband yourself, some day," she added in an undertone. + +"Never," burst forth Uros, fiercely, "unless I am your husband." + +"Hush!" said she, shuddering with fear and crossing herself. "Your +father wishes you to marry, and--I wish it too," she added in a +whisper. + +"No, you don't, Milena; that's a lie," he replied, passionately. +"Could you swear it on the holy Cross?" + +"Yes, Uros, if it's for your good, I wish it, too. You know that +I----" + +Her pale face grew of deep red hue; even her hands flushed as the +blood rushed impetuously upwards. + +"Well?" asked Uros, anxiously. + +"That I love you far more than I do myself." + +He clasped her in his arms tenderly, and kissed her shoulders, not +daring to kiss her lips. + +"Would it be right for me to marry a young girl whom I do not love, +when all my soul is yours?" + +"Still," said she, shuddering, "our love is a sin before God and +man." + +"Why did you not tell me so when I first knew you? Then, perhaps, I +might not have loved you." + +Milena's head sank down on her bosom, her eyes filled with tears, +there was a low sound in her throat. Then, in a voice choking with +sobs, she said: + +"You are right, Uros; I was to blame, very much to blame. I was as +thoughtless as a child; in fact, I was a child, and I only wanted to +be amused. But since then I have grown so old. Lying ill in bed, +almost dying, I was obliged to think of all the foolish things I said +and did, so----" + +"So you do not love me any more," he said, abruptly; but seeing the +look of sorrow which shadowed Milena's face, he added: "My heart, +forgive me; it is only my love for you that makes me so peevish. When +you ask me to forget you----" + +"And still you must try and do so. The young girl your father has +chosen for you----" + +"Loves some one else," interrupted Uros. + +Milena looked up with an expression of joy she vainly tried to +control. The young man thereupon told her the mistake which had taken +place, and all that had happened the last time he and his friend had +been at Zara. + +"Giulianic has taken a solemn oath that I shall never marry his +daughter, and as Milenko is in love with her, I hope my father will +release his friend from the promise----" + +Just then the door opened, and Mara came in. + +"Well, mother," said Uros, "what news do you bring to us?" + +"Your father is safe, my boy. He left this morning for Montenegro; by +this time he must have crossed the border. On the whole, the police +tried to look for him where they knew they could not find him. He +left word that he wishes to see you very much, and begs you to go up +to Cettinje as soon as you can." + +"I'll go and see Milenko, so that he may take sole charge of the +ship, and then I'll start this very evening." + +"No, child, there is no such hurry! Rest to-night; you can leave +to-morrow, or the day after." + +Having seen Milenko, and entrusted the ship for a few days entirely +to him, Uros started early on the next morning for the black +mountains. + +Mara could hardly tear herself away from him. She had been waiting so +eagerly for his arrival, and now, when he had come home, she was +obliged to part from him. + +"Do not stay there too long, for then you will only return to start, +and I'll have scarcely seen you." + +"No, I'll only stay there one or two days, no more." + +"And then I hope you'll not mix up in any quarrel. I'm so sorry +you've come back just now." + +"Come, mother," said Uros, smiling pleasantly as he stood on the +doorstep before starting, "what harm can befall me? I haven't mixed +up in any of the _karvarina_ business, nor am I running away as an +outlaw; if we have some enemies they are all here, not there. I +suppose I'll find father at Zwillievic's or some other friend's +house. Your fears are quite unfounded, are they not?" + +All Uros said was quite true, but still his mother refused to be +comforted. As he bade Milena good-bye, "Remember!" she whispered to +him, and she slipped back into her room. + +Did she wish him to remember that she was Radonic's wife? + +Uros thereupon started with a heavy heart; everybody seemed to have +changed since he had left Budua. + +The early morning was grey and cloudy, and although Uros was very +fond of his father, and anxious to see him, still he was loth to +leave his home. + +At the town gate Uros met Milenko, who had come to walk part of the +way with him. Uros, who was thinking of his mother and especially of +Milena, had quite forgotten his bosom friend. Seeing him so +unexpectedly, his heart expanded with a sudden movement of joy, and +he felt at that moment as if they had met after having been parted +for ages. + +"Well?" asked Milenko, as they walked along. "Do you remember when we +first started from Budua, we thought that we'd have reached the +height of happiness the day we'd sail on our own ship?" + +"I remember." + +"The ship is almost our own, and happiness is farther off than ever." + +"Wait till we come back next voyage, and things might look quite +different then." + +The sun just then began to dawn; the dark and frowning mountains lost +all their grimness as a pale golden halo lighted up their tops; +drowsy nature seemed to awake with a smile, and looked like a rosy +infant does when, on opening its eyes, it sees its mother's beaming +face. + +The two friends walked on. Uros spoke of the woman he loved, and +Milenko listened with a lover's sympathy. + +Milenko walked with his friend for about two hours; then he bade Uros +good-bye, promising him to go at once to his mother and Milena, and +tell them how he was faring. + +Uros began to climb up the rugged path leading towards Montenegro. +After a quarter of an hour, the two friends stopped, shouted "Ahoy!" +to each other, waved their hands and then resumed their walk. Towards +nightfall Uros reached the village where Zwillievic lived. + +With a beating heart, sore feet and aching calves he trudged on +towards the house, which, as he hoped, was to be the goal of his +journey. As he pushed the door open he shuddered, thinking that +instead of his father he might happen to find Milena's husband. + +The apartment into which he entered was a large and rather low room, +serving as a kitchen, a parlour, a dining and a sleeping room. It +was, in fact, the only room of the house. Its walls were cleanly +whitewashed; not a speck of dust could be seen anywhere, nor a cobweb +amidst the rafters in the ceiling. The inner part was used for +sleeping purposes, for against the walls on either side there were +two huge beds. By the beds, two boxes--one of plain deal, like the +chests used by sailors; the other, made of cypress-wood and quaintly +carved--contained the family linen. In the middle of the room stood a +rough, massive table, darkened and polished by daily use, and some +three-legged stools around it. The walls were decorated with the real +wealth of the family--weapons of every shape, age and kind. Short +guns, the butt ends of which were all inlaid with mother-of-pearl; +long carbines with silver incrustations; modern rifles and +fowling-pieces; swords, scimitars, daggers, yatagans; pistols and +blunderbusses with niello and filigree silver-work, gemmed like +jewels or church ornaments. These trophies were heirlooms of +centuries. Over one of the beds there was a silver- and gold-plated +Byzantine icon, over the other a hideous German print of St. George. +The Prince of Cappadocia, who was killing a grass-green dragon, wore +for the occasion a yellow mantle, a red doublet and blue tights. +Under each of these images there was a fount of holy water and a +little oil-lamp. + +As Uros stepped in, Milena's mother, who was standing by the hearth, +preparing the supper, turned round to see who had just come in. She +looked at him, but as he evidently was a stranger to her, she came up +a step or two towards him. + +"Good evening, _domacica_," for she was not only the lady of the +house, but the wife of the head of the family and the chief of the +clan, or tribe. + +"Good evening, _gospod_," said she, hesitatingly. + +"You do not know me, I think. I am a kind of cousin of yours, Uros +Bellacic." + +"What, is it you, my boy? I might have known you by your likeness to +your mother; but when I saw you last you were only a little child, +and now you are quite a grown-up man," added she, looking at him with +motherly fondness. "Have you walked all the way from Budua?" + +"Yes, I left home this morning." + +"Then you must be tired. Come and sit down, my boy." + +"I am rather tired; you see, we sailors are not accustomed to walk +much. But tell me first, have you seen my father? Is he staying with +you?" + +"Yes, he came yesterday. He is out just now, but he'll soon be back +with Zwillievic. Sit down and rest," said she, "and let me give you +some water to wash, for you must be travel-sore and dusty." + +As Uros sat down, she, after the Eastern fashion, bent to unlace his +_opanke_; but he, unaccustomed to be waited upon by women, would not +allow her to perform such a menial act for him. + +He had hardly finished his ablutions when his father and the +_gospodar_ came in. Seeing his son, Bellacic stretched out his arms +and clasped him to his heart. Then they began talking about all that +had taken place since they had seen each other; and, supper being +served, Uros, while he ate with a good appetite, related all the +adventures of his seafaring life, and did his best to keep his father +amused. At the end of the meal, when everyone was in a good-humour, +the pipes being lit and the _raki_ brought forth, he told them how +Milenko had fallen in love with the girl who ought to have been his +bride, how she reciprocated his affection, and the many complications +that followed, until Giulianic swore, in great wrath, that he, Uros, +should never marry his daughter. Although this part of the story did +not amuse the father as much as it did the rest of the company, still +it was related with such graphic humour that he could not help +joining in the laughter. + +On the morrow, Bellacic, wanting to have a quiet talk with his son, +proposed that they should go and see a little of the country, and, +perhaps, meet Radonic, who was said to be coming back from the +neighbourhood of Scutari. + +As they walked on, Bellacic spoke of his lost vineyard, and of his +rashness in cutting off Vranic's ear; then he added: + +"Remember, now that you are going back to Budua, you must promise me +that, as long as you are there, you'll not mix up in this stupid +_karvarina_ business. I know that I am asking much, for if we old men +are hasty, recommending you who are young and hot-headed to be cool +is like asking the fire not to burn, or the sun not to shine; still, +for your mother's sake and for mine, you'll keep aloof from those +reptiles of Vranics, will you not?" + +Uros promised to do his best and obey. + +"I'd have liked to see you married and settled in life," and Bellacic +cast a questioning glance at his son. + +Uros looked down and twisted the ends of his short and crisp +moustache. + +"It is true you are very young still; it is we--your mother and I +--who are getting old." + +Uros continued to walk in silence by his father's side. + +"If Ivanka is in love with your friend, and Giulianic is willing to +give her to him, I am not the man to make any objections. The only +thing I'd like to know is whether it is solely for Milenko's sake +that you acted as you did." + +Uros tried to speak, but the words he would utter stuck in his +throat. + +"Then it is as I thought," added Bellacic, seeing his son's +confusion; "you love some one else." + +Uros looked up at his father for all reply. + +"Answer me," said Bellacic, tenderly. + +"Yes," said the young man, in a whisper. + +"A young girl?" + +"No." + +"A married woman?" asked the father, lifting his brows with a look of +pain in his eyes. + +"Yes." + +"A relation of ours?" + +"Yes." + +"Milena?" + +Uros nodded. + +Just then, as they turned the corner of the road, they met a crowd of +men coming towards them; it was a band of blood-stained Montenegrins +returning from an encounter with the Turks. They were bearing a +wounded man upon a stretcher. + +"Milena would have been the girl your mother and I might have chosen +for your bride; and, indeed, we have learnt to love her as a +daughter; but fate has decreed otherwise." + +They now came up to the foremost man of the band. + +"Who is wounded?" asked Bellacic of him. + +"Radonic," answered he. + +"Is the wound a bad one?" + +"He is dying!" replied the Montenegrin, in a whisper. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +THE VAMPIRE + + +Vranic, having found out that the Austrian law could do nothing for +him, except punish him for his crime in cutting down the vines of a +man who had done him no harm, shut himself up at home to nurse his +wounded head, to brood over his revenge, and pity himself for all the +mishaps that had befallen him. The more he pitied himself, the more +irritable he grew, and the more he considered himself a poor +persecuted wretch. He durst not go out for fear of being laughed at; +and, in fact, when he did go, the children in the streets began to +call him names, to ask him what he had done with his ears, and +whether he liked cutting people's vines down. + +With his bickering and peevish temper, not only his fast friends grew +weary of him, but his own family forsook him; his very brother, at +last, could not abide his saturnine humour, and left him. He then +began to drink to try and drown his troubles; still, he only took +enough to muddle his brains, and, moreover, the greater quantity of +spirits he consumed the more sullen he grew. + +Having but one idea in his head--that is, the great wrong that had +been done to him--he hardly fell asleep at nights but he was at once +haunted by fearful dreams. His murdered brother would at once appear +before him and ask him--urge him--to avenge his death: + +"While you are enjoying the inheritance I left you, I am groaning in +hell-fire, and my murderer is not only left free, but he is even +made much of." + +Masses were said for the dead man's soul, still that was of no avail; +Vranic's dreams got always more frightful. The _morina_, the dreadful +_mara_ or nightmare, took up its dwelling in the tailor's house. No +sooner did the poor man close his eyes than the ponderous ghost came +hovering over him, and at last crushed him with its weight. The sign +of the pentacle was drawn on every door and window. A witch drew it +for him on paper with magical ink, and he placed the paper under his +pillow. He put another on the sheets; then the nightmare left him +alone, and other evil spirits came in its stead. Not knowing the +names of these evil spirits or their nature, it was a difficult task +to find out the planet under which they were subjected, the sign +which they obeyed, and what charm was potent enough to scare them +away. + +One night (it was about the hour when his brother had been murdered) +the tailor was lying on his bed in a half-wakeful slumber--that is to +say, his drowsy body was benumbed, but his mind was still quite +awake, when all at once he was roused by the noise of a loud wind +blowing within the house. Outside, everything was perfectly quiet, +but inside a distant door seemed to have been opened down in some +cellar, and a draught was blowing up with a moaning, booming sound. +You might have fancied that a grave had been opened and a ghastly +gale was blowing from the hollow depths of hell below, and that it +came wheezing up. It was dreadful to hear, for it had such a dismal +sound. + +Perhaps it was only his imagination, but Vranic thought that this +mysterious draught was cold, damp and chilly; that it had an earthy, +rank smell of mildew as it blew by him. + +He lay there shivering, hardly daring to breathe, putting his tongue +between his chattering teeth not to make a noise, and listening to +that strange, weird blast as at last it died far away in a faint, +imperceptible sigh. + +No sooner had the sound of the wind entirely subsided than he heard a +cadenced noise of footsteps coming from afar. Were these steps out of +the house or inside? he could not tell. He heard them draw nearer and +ever nearer; they seemed to come across the wall of the room, as if +bricks and stones were no obstacle to his uncanny visitor; now they +were in his room, walking up to his bed. Appalled with terror, Vranic +looked towards the place from where the footsteps came, but he could +not see anybody. Trembling as if with a fit of palsy, he cast a +fearful, furtive glance all around, even in the furthermost corner of +the room; not the shadow of a ghost was to be seen; nevertheless, the +footsteps of the invisible person grew louder as they approached at a +slow, sure, inexorable pace. + +At last they stopped; they were by his bed. Vranic felt the breath of +a person on his very face. + +Except a person who has felt it, no one can realise the horror of +having an invisible being leaning over you, of feeling his breath on +your face. + +Vranic tried to rise, but he at once came in close contact with the +unseen monster; two cold, clammy, boneless hands gripped him and +pinned him down; he vainly struggled to get free, but he was as a +baby in the hands of his invisible foe. In a few seconds he was +entirely mastered, cowed down, overcome, panting, breathless. When he +tried to scream, a limp, nerveless hand, as soft as a huge toad, was +placed upon his mouth, shutting it up entirely, and impeding all +power of utterance. Then the ponderous mass of the ghost came upon +him, crushed him, smothered him. Fainting with fear, his strength and +his senses forsook him at the same time, and he swooned away. + +When he came back to life, the cold, grey light of the dawning day, +pouring in through the half-closed shutters, gave the room a squalid, +lurid look. His head was not exactly paining him, but it felt drained +of all its contents, and as light as an empty skull, or an old poppy +head in which the seeds are rattling. He looked around. There was +nothing unusual in the room; everything was just as it had been upon +the previous evening. Had his struggle with the ghost been but a +dream? He tried to move, to rise, but all his limbs were as weary and +sore as if he had really fought and been beaten. Nay, his whole body +was as weak as if he had had some long illness and was only now +convalescent. He recalled to mind all the details of the struggle, he +looked at the places where he felt numb and sore, and everywhere he +remarked livid stains which he had not seen before. He lifted himself +up on his right elbow; to his horror and consternation, there were +two or three spots of blood upon the white sheet. + +He felt faint and sick at that sight; he understood everything. His +had not been a dream; his gruesome visitor was a frightful ghost, a +terrible _vukodlaki_, which had fought with him and sucked his blood. +His brother had become a loathsome vampire; he was the first victim. + +For a moment he remained bewildered, unable to think; then when he +did manage to collect his wandering senses, the terrible reality of +his misfortune almost drove him mad again. + +The ghost, having tasted his blood, would not leave him till it had +drained him to the very last drop. He was a lost man; no medical aid +could be of any use; nourishing food, wine and tonics might prolong +his agony a few days longer and no more. He was doomed to a sure +death. Daily--as if in a decline--he saw himself wasting away, for +the vampire would suck the very marrow of his bones. + +His was a dreary life, indeed, and yet he clung to it with might and +main. The days passed on wearily, and he tried to hope against hope +itself; but he was so weak and dispirited that the slightest noise +made him shiver and grow pale. An unexpected footstep, the opening or +shutting of a door, slackened or accelerated the beating of his +heart. + +With fear and trembling he waited for night to come on, and when the +sun went down--when darkness came over the earth--his terror grew +apace. Still, where was he to go? He had not a single friend on the +surface of the earth. He, therefore, drank several glasses of +spirits, muttered his prayers and went to bed. No sooner had he +fallen asleep than he fell again a prey to the vampire. + +On the third night he determined not to go to bed, but to remain +awake, and thus wait for the arrival of his gruesome guest. Still, at +the last moment his courage failed him, so he went to an old man who +lived hard by. He promised to make him a new waistcoat if he would +only give him a rug to sleep on, and tell him a story until he got +drowsy. + +The old man complied willingly, above all as Vranic had brought a +_bukara_ of wine with him, so he at once began the story of + + +THE PRIEST AND HIS COOK. + +In the village of Steino there lived an old priest who was +exceedingly wealthy, but who was, withal, as miserly as he was rich. +Although he had fields which stretched farther than the eye could +reach, fat pastures, herds and flocks; although his cellars were +filled with mellow wine, his barns were bursting with the grace of +God; although abundance reigned in his house, still he was never +known to have given a crust of bread to a beggar or a glass of wine +to a weary old man. + +He lived all alone with a skinflint of an old cook, as stingy as +himself, who would rather by far have seen an apple rot than give it +to a hungry child whose mouth watered for it. + +Those two grim old fogeys, birds of one feather, cared for no one +else in this world except for each other, and, in fact, the people in +Steino said----, but people in villages have bad tongues, so it's +useless to repeat what was said about them. + +The priest had a nephew, a smith, a good-hearted, bright-eyed, burly +kind of a fellow, beloved by all the village, except by his uncle, +whom he had greatly displeased because he had married a bonny lass of +the neighbouring village of Smarje, instead of taking as a wife +the----, well, the cook's niece, though, between us and the wall, the +cook was never known to have had a sister or a brother either, and +the people----, but, as I said before, the people were apt to say +nasty things about their priest. + +The smith, who was quite a pauper, had several children, for the +poorer a man is the more babies his wife presents him with--women +everywhere are such unreasonable creatures--and whenever he applied +to his uncle for a trifle, the uncle would spout the Scriptures in +Latin, saying something about the unfitness of casting pearls before +pigs, and that he would rather see him hanged than help him. + +Once--it was in the middle of winter--the poor smith had been without +any work for days and days. He had spent his last penny; then the +baker would not give him any more bread on credit, and at last, on a +cold, frosty night, the poor children had been obliged to go to bed +supperless. + +The smith, who had sworn a few days before never again to put his +foot in the priest's house, was, in his despair, obliged to humble +himself, and go and beg for a loaf of bread, with which to satisfy +his children on the morrow. + +Before he knocked at the door, he went and peeped in through the +half-closed shutters, and he saw his uncle and the cook seated by a +roaring fire, with their feet on the fender, munching roasted +chestnuts and drinking mulled wine. Their shining lips still seemed +greasy from the fat sausages they had eaten for supper, and, as he +sniffed at the window, he fancied the air was redolent with the +spices of black-pudding. The smell made his mouth water and his +hungry stomach rumble. + +The poor man knocked at the door with a trembling hand; his legs +began to quake, he had not eaten the whole of that long day; but then +he thought of his hungry children, and knocked with a steadier hand. + +The priest, hearing the knock, thought it must be some pious +parishioner bringing him a fat pullet or perhaps a sleek sucking-pig, +the price of a mass to be said on the morrow; but when, instead, he +saw his nephew, looking as mean and as sheepish as people usually do +when they go a-begging, he was greatly disappointed. + +"What do you want, bothering here at this time of the night?" asked +the old priest, gruffly. + +"Uncle," said the poor man, dejectedly. + +"I suppose you've been drinking, as usual; you stink of spirits." + +"Spirits, in sooth! when I haven't a penny to bless me." + +"Oh, if it's only a blessing you want, here, take one and go!" + +And the priest lifted up his thumb and the two fingers, and uttered +something like "_Dominus vobiscum,_" and then waved him off; whilst +the old shrew skulking near him uttered a croaking kind of laugh, and +said that a priest's blessing was a priceless boon. + +"Yes," replied the smith, "upon a full stomach; but my children have +gone to bed supperless, and I haven't had a crust of bread the whole +of the day." + +"'Man shall not live by bread alone,' the Scriptures say, and you +ought to know that if you are a Christian, sir." + +"Eh? I daresay the Scriptures are right, for priests surely do not +live on bread alone; they fatten on plump pullets and crisp +pork-pies." + +"Do you mean to bully me, you unbelieving beggar?" + +"Bully you, uncle!" said the burly man, in a piteous tone; "only +think of my starving children." + +"He begrudges his uncle the grub he eats," shrieked the old cat of a +cook. + +"I'd have given you something, but the proud man should be punished," +said the wrathful priest, growing purple in the face. + +"Oh, uncle, my children!" sobbed the poor man. + +"What business has a man to have a brood of brats when he can't earn +enough to buy bread for them?" said the cook, aloud, to herself. + +"Will you hold your tongue, you cantankerous old cat?" said the smith +to the cook. + +The old vixen began to howl, and the priest, in his anger, cursed his +nephew, telling him that he and his children could starve for all he +cared. + +The smith thereupon went home, looking as piteous as a tailless +turkey-cock; and while his children slept and, perhaps, dreamt of +_kolaci_, he told his wife the failure he had met with. + +"Your uncle is a brute," said she. + +"He's a priest, and all priests are brutes, you know." + +"Well, I don't know about all of them, for I heard my +great-grandmother say that once upon a time there lived----" + +"Oh, there are casual exceptions to every rule!" said her husband. +"But, now, what's to be done?" + +"Listen," said the wife, who was a shrewd kind of woman; "we can't +let the children starve, can we?" + +"No, indeed!" + +"Then follow my advice. I know of a grass that, given to a horse, or +an ox, or a sheep, or a goat, makes the animal fall down, looking as +if it were dead." + +"Well, but you don't mean to feed the children with this grass, do +you?" said the smith, not seeing the drift of what she meant. + +"No; but you could secretly go and give some to your uncle's fattest +ox." + +"So," said the husband, scratching his head. + +"Once the animal falls down dead, he'll surely give it to you, as no +butcher 'll buy it; we'll kill it and thus be provided with meat for +a long time. Besides, you can sell the bones, the horns, the hide, +and get a little money besides." + +"And for to-morrow?" + +"I'll manage to borrow a few potatoes and a cup of milk." + +On the next day the wife went and got the grass, and the smith, +unseen, managed to go and give it to his uncle's fattest ox. A few +hours afterwards the animal was found dead. + +On hearing that his finest ox was found in the stable lying stiff and +stark the priest nearly had a fit; and his grief was still greater +when he found out that not a man in the village would offer him a +penny for it, so when his nephew came he was glad enough to give it +to him to get rid of it. + +The cook, who had prompted the priest to make a present of the ox to +his nephew, hoped that the smith and all his family would be poisoned +by feeding on carrion flesh. + +"But," said the uncle, "bring me back the bones, the horns, and the +hide." + +To everyone's surprise, and to the old cook's rage, the smith and his +children fed on the flesh of the dead ox, and throve on it. After the +ox had all been eaten up, the priest lost a goat, and then a goose, +in the same way, and the smith and his family ate them up with +evident gusto. + +After that, the old cook began to suspect foul play on the part of +the smith, and she spoke of her suspicions to her master. + +The priest got into a great rage, and wanted to go at once to the +police and accuse his nephew of sorcery. + +"No," said the cook, "we must catch them on the hip, and then we can +act." + +"But how are we to find them out?" + +After brooding over the matter for some days, the cook bethought +herself that the best plan would be to shut herself up in a cupboard, +and have it taken to the nephew's house. + +The priest, having approved of her plan, put it at once into +execution. + +"I have," said the uncle to the nephew, "an old cupboard which needs +repairing; will you take it into your house and keep it for a few +days?" + +"Willingly," said the nephew, who had not the slightest suspicion of +the trap laid to catch him. + +The cupboard was brought, and put in the only room the smith +possessed; the children looked at it with wonder, for they had never +seen such a big piece of furniture before. The wife had some +suspicion. Still, she kept her own counsel. + +Soon afterwards the remains of the goose were brought on the table, +and, as the children licked the bones, the husband and wife discussed +what meat they were to have for the forthcoming days--was it to be +pork, veal, or turkey? + +As they were engrossed with this interesting topic, a slight, shrill +sound came out of the cupboard. + +"What's that?" said the wife, whose ears were on the alert. + +"I didn't hear anything," said the smith. + +"_Apshee_," was the sound that came again from the cupboard. + +"There, did you hear?" asked the wife. + +"Yes; but from where did that unearthly sound come?" + +The wife, without speaking, winked at her husband and pointed to the +cupboard. + +"_Papshee_," was now heard louder than ever. + +The children stopped gnawing the goose's bones; they opened their +greasy mouths and their eyes to the utmost and looked scared. + +"There's some one shut in the cupboard," said the smith, jumping up, +and snatching up his tools. + +A moment afterwards the door flew open, and to everyone's surprise, +except the wife's, the old cook was found standing bolt upright in +the empty space and listening to what they were saying. + +The old woman, finding herself discovered, was about to scream, but +the smith caught her by the throat and gave her such a powerful +squeeze, that before knowing what he was doing, he had choked the +cook to death. + +The poor man was in despair, for he had never meant to commit a +murder--he only wanted to prevent the old shrew from screaming. + +"_Bog me ovari!_ what is to become of me now?" + +"Pooh!" said the wife, shrugging her shoulders; "she deserves her +fate; as we make our bed, so must we lie." + +"Yes," quoth the smith, "but if they find out that I've strangled +her, they'll hang me." + +"And who'll find you out?" said she. "Let's put a potato in her mouth +and lock up the cupboard again; they'll think that she choked herself +eating potatoes." + +The smith followed his wife's advice, and early on the morrow the +priest came again and asked for his press. + +"Talking the matter over with the cook," said he, "I've decided not +to have my cupboard repaired, so I've come to take it back." + +"Your cook is right," said the smith's wife; "she's a wise old woman, +your cook is." + +"Very," said the priest, uncomfortably. + +"There's more in her head than you suppose," said the wife, thinking +of the potato. + +"There is," said the priest. + +"Give my kind respects to your cook," said the wife as the men were +taking the cupboard away. + +"Thank you," said the priest, "I'll certainly do so." + +About an hour afterwards the priest came back, ghastly pale, to his +nephew, and taking him aside said: + +"My dear nephew--my only kith-and-kin--a great misfortune has +befallen me." + +"What is it, uncle?" asked the smith. + +"My cook," said the priest, lowering his voice, "has--eating +potatoes--somehow or other--I don't know how--choked herself." + +"Oh!" quoth the smith, turning pale, "it is a great misfortune; but +you'll say masses for her soul and have her properly buried." + +"But the fact is," interrupted the priest, "she looks so dreadful, +with her eyes starting out of their sockets, and her mouth wide open, +that I'm quite frightened of her, and besides, if the people see her +they'll say that I murdered her." + +"Well, and how am I to help you?" + +"Come and take her away, in a sack if you like; then bury her in some +hole, or throw her down a well. Do whatever you like, as long as I am +rid of her." + +The smith scratched his head. + +"You must help me; you are my only relation. You know that whatever I +have 'll go to you some day, so----" + +"And when people ask what has become of her?" + +"I'll say she's gone to her--her niece." + +"Well, I don't mind helping you, as long as I don't get into a scrape +myself." + +"No, no! How can you get into trouble?" + +The priest went off, and soon afterwards the smith went to his +uncle's house, and taking a big sack, shoved the cook into it and +tied the sack up, put it on his shoulders and trudged off. + +"Here," said the uncle, "take this florin to get a glass of wine on +the way, and I hope I'll never see her any more--nor," he added to +himself--"you either." + +It was a warm day, and the cook was heavy. The poor man was in a +great perspiration; his throat was parched; the road was dusty and +hilly. After an hour's march he stopped at a roadside inn to drink a +glass of wine. He quaffed it down at a gulp and then he had another, +and again another, so that when he came out everything was rather +hazy and blurred. Seeing some carts of hay at the door which were +going to the next town, he asked permission to get on top of one of +the waggons. The permission was not only granted, but the carter even +helped him to hoist his sack on top. The smith, in return, got down +and offered the man a glass of wine for his kindness. Then he again +got on the cart and went off to sleep. An hour or two afterwards, +when he awoke, the sack was gone. Had it slipped down? had it been +stolen from him?--he could not tell. He did not ask for it, but he +only congratulated himself at having so dexterously got rid of the +cook, and at once went back home. + +That evening his children had hardly been put to bed when the door +was opened, and his uncle, looking pale and scared, came in panting. + +"She's back, she's back!" he gasped. + +"Who is back?" asked the astonished smith. + +"Why, she, the cook." + +"Alive?" gasped the smith. + +"No, dead in the sack." + +"Then how the deuce did she get back?" + +"How? I ask you how?" + +"I really don't know how. I dug a hole ten feet deep, half filled the +hole with lime, then the other half with stones and earth, and I +planted a tree within the hole, and covered the earth all around with +sods. It gave me two days' work. I'll take and show you the place if +you like." + +The priest looked at his nephew, bewildered. + +"But, tell me," continued the smith, "how did she come back?" + +"Well, they brought me a waggon of hay, and on the waggon there was a +sack, which I thought must contain potatoes or turnips which some +parishioner sent me, so I had the sack put in the kitchen. When the +men had gone I undid the sack, and to my horror out pops the cook's +ugly head, staring at me with her jutting goggle-eyes and her gaping +mouth, looking like a horrid jack-in-the-box. Do come and take her +away, or she'll drive me out of my senses; but come at once." + +The smith went back to the priest's house, tied the cook in the sack, +and then putting the sack on his shoulders, he carried his load away. +He had made up his mind to go and chuck her down one of those almost +bottomless shafts which abound in the stony plains of the Karst. + +He walked all night; at daybreak he saw a man sleeping on the grass +by the highway, having near him a sack exactly like the one he was +carrying. + +"What a good joke it'll be," thought he, "to take that sack and put +mine in its stead." + +He at once stepped lightly on the grass, put down the cook, took up +the other sack, which was much lighter than his own, and scampered +back home as fast as his weary legs could carry him. + +An hour afterwards the sleeping man awoke, took up his sack, which he +was surprised to find so much heavier than it had been when he had +gone off to sleep, and then went on his way. + +That evening the priest came back to his nephew's house, looking +uglier and more ghastly, if possible, than the evening before. +Panting and gasping, with a weak and broken voice: + +"She's back again," he said in a hoarse whisper. + +The smith burst out laughing. + +"It's no laughing matter," quoth the priest, with a long face. + +"No, indeed, it isn't," replied the nephew; "only, tell me how she +came back." + +"A pedlar, an honest man whom I sometimes help by lending him a +trifle on his goods--merely out of charity--brought me a sack of +shoes, begging me to keep it for him till he found a stall for +to-morrow's fair. I told him to put the sack in the kitchen, and he +did so. When he had gone, I thought I'd just see what kind of shoes +he had for sale, and whether he had a pair that fitted me. I opened +the sack, and I almost fainted when I saw the frightful face of the +cook staring at me." + +"And now," asked the smith, "am I to carry her away again, for you +know, uncle, she is rather heavy; and besides----" + +"No," replied the priest; "I'll go away myself for a few days; during +that time drown her, burn or bury her; in fact, do what you like with +her, as long as you get rid of her. Perhaps, knowing I'm not at home, +she'll not come back. In the meanwhile, as you are my only relation, +come and live in my house and take care of my things as if they were +your own; and they'll be yours soon enough, for this affair has made +an old man of me." + +The priest went home, followed by his nephew. Arriving there, he went +to the stable, saddled the mare, got on her, gave his nephew his +blessing, bade him take care of his house, and trotted off. No sooner +had he gone than the smith saddled the stallion, then went and took +the cook out of the sack, tied her on the stallion's saddle, then let +the horse loose to follow the mare. + +The poor priest had not gone a mile before he heard a horse galloping +behind him, and, fearing that it was the police coming to bring him +back, he spurred the mare and galloped on; but the faster he rode, +the quicker the stallion galloped after him. + +Looking round, the priest, to his horror and dismay, saw his cook, +with her eyes starting wildly out of their sockets, and her horrid +mouth gaping as black as the hole of hell, chasing him, nay, she was +only a few yards behind. + +The terrified priest spurred on the mare, which began to gallop along +the highway; but withal she flew like an arrow, the stallion was +gaining ground at every step. The priest, fainting with fear, lost +all his presence of mind; he then spurred the mare across country. +The poor animal reared at first, and then began to gallop over the +stony plain; no obstacles could stop her, she jumped over bushes and +briars, stumbling almost at every step. + +The priest, palsied with terror, as ghastly pale as a ghost, could +not help turning round; alas! the cook was always at his heels. His +fear was such that he almost dropped from his horse. He lashed the +poor mare, forgetful of all the dangers the plains of the Karst +presented, for the ground yawned everywhere--here in huge, deep +clefts, there in bottomless shafts; or it sank in cup-like hollows, +all bordered with sharp, jagged rocks, or concealed in the bushes +that surround them. His only thought was to escape from the grim +spectre that pursued him. The lame and bleeding mare had stopped on +the brink of one of these precipices, trembling and convulsed with +terror. The priest, who had just turned round, dug his spurs into the +animal's sides; she tried to clear the cleft, but missed her footing, +and rolled down in the abyss. The stallion, seeing the mare +disappear, stopped short, and uttered a loud neigh, shivering with +fear. The shock the poor beast had got burst the bonds which held the +corpse on his back, and the cook was thus chucked over his head on +the prone edge of the pit. + +A few days afterwards some peasants who happened to pass by found the +cook sitting, stiff and stark, astride on a rock, seemingly staring, +with eyes starting from their sockets and her black mouth gaping +widely, at the mangled remains of her master's corpse. + +As the priest had told the clerk that he was going away for a few +days, everybody came to the conclusion that his cook, having followed +him against his will, had frightened the mare and thus caused her own +and her master's death. + +The smith having been left in possession of his uncle's house, as +well as of all his money and estates, and being, moreover, the only +legal heir, thus found himself all at once the richest man in the +village. As he was beloved by everybody, all rejoiced at his good +luck, especially all those who owed money to the priest and whose +debts he cancelled. + + +"You liked this story?" said the old man to Vranic, as soon as he had +finished. + +"Yes," replied the tailor, thinking of the ghastly, livid corpse, +with grinning, gaping mouth, and glassy, goggle eyes, galloping after +the priest, and wondering whether she was like the vampire. "Yes, +it's an interesting story, but rather gruesome." + +"Well, but it's only a story, and, whether ghastly or lively, it's +only words, which--as the proverb says--are evanescent as +soap-bubbles. Now," continued he, "if you want to go off to sleep, +look at this," and he gave him a bit of cardboard, on which were +traced several circles; "look at it till you see all these rings +wheeling round. When they disappear, you'll be asleep." + +The old man put the bit of cardboard before Vranic, who leaned his +elbows on the table and his head between the palms of his hands, and +stared at the drawing. Five minutes afterwards he was fast asleep. + +When he awoke the next morning, his head was not only aching, but his +weakness had so much increased that he had hardly strength enough to +stand on his feet. He, therefore, made up his mind to go to the +parish priest, and lay the whole matter before him. + +Priests are everywhere but fetich men; therefore, if they have burnt +witches for using charms and philters, it is simply because these +women trespassed on their own domains, and were more successful than +they themselves. Of what use would a priest be if he could not pray +for rain, give little _sacre coeur_ bits of flannel as talismans +against pestilence, or brass medals to scare away the devil? A priest +who can do nothing for us here below, must and will soon fall into +discredit. The hereafter is so vague and indefinite that it cannot +inspire us with half the interest the present does. + +The priest whom Vranic consulted was of the same opinion as the +tailor. He, too, believed that probably his brother had become a +vampire, who nightly left the tomb to go and suck his blood. For his +own sake, as well as for that of the whole town, it would be well to +exorcise the ghost. The matter, however, had to be kept a profound +secret, as the Government had put its veto on vampire-killing, and +looked upon all such practices as illegal. + +It was, therefore, agreed that Vranic, together with his relations +and some friends, should go to the curate's about ten o'clock at +night; there the curate would be waiting for them with another +priest; from there the little party would stealthily proceed to the +cemetery where the ceremony was to be held. + +The Friday fixed upon arrived. The night was dark, the weather +sultry; a storm had been brooding in the heavy clouds overhead and +was now ready to burst every moment. + +As soon as the muffled people got to the gate of the burying-ground +the mortuary chapel was opened to them by the sexton. The priests put +on their officiating robes, recited several orisons appropriate to +the occasion; then, with the Cross carried before them, bearing a +holy-water sprinkler in their hands, followed by Vranic and his +friends--all with blessed tapers--they went up to the murdered man's +tomb. The priest then bade the sexton dig up the earth and bring out +the coffin. + +The smell, as the pit was being dug lower down, became always more +offensive; but when, at last, the rotting deal coffin was drawn out +and opened, it became overpoweringly loathsome. The corpse, however, +being found in a good state of preservation, there could be no doubt +that the dead man was a vampire. It is true that the tapers which +everyone held gave but a dim and flickering light; moreover, that the +stench was so sickening that all turned at once their heads away in +disgust; still, they had all seen enough of the corpse to declare it +to be but seemingly dead. The priest, standing as far from it as he +possibly could, began at once to exorcise it in the name of the +Trinity, the Virgin and all the saints; to sprinkle it with holy +water, commanding it not to move, not to jump out of its box and run +away--for these ghouls are cunning devils, and if one is not on the +alert they skedaddle the moment the coffin is opened. Our priest, +however, was a match even for the dead man, and his holy-water +sprinkler was uplifted even before the lid of the loathsome chest was +loosened. + +The storm which had been threatening the whole of that day broke out +at last. No sooner had the sexton begun to dig the grave than the +wind, which had been moaning and wailing round the stones and wooden +crosses, began to howl with a sinister sound. Then, just as the +priest uttered the formula of the exorcism--when the coffin was +uncovered and the uncanny corpse was seen--a flash of lurid lightning +gleamed over its livid features, and the rumbling thunder ended in a +tremendous crash; the earth shook as if with the throes of +childbirth; hell seemed to yawn and yield forth its fulsome dead. As +the priest sprinkled the corpse with holy water, the rain came down +in torrents as if to drown the world. + +Although the noise was deafening, still some of the men affirm that +they heard the corpse lament and entreat not to be killed; but the +priest, a tall, stalwart man of great strength and courage, went on +perfectly undaunted, paying no heed to the vampire, mumbling his +prayers as if the man prostrate before him was some ordinary corpse +and this was a commonplace, every-day funeral. + +The priest, having reached in his orisons the moment when he uttered +the name of Isukrst, or God the Son, Josko Vranic, who stood by, +shivering from head to foot, and looking like a cat extracted from a +tub of soap-suds, drew out a dagger from under his coat, where it had +been carefully concealed from the ghost's sight, and stabbed the +corpse. It was, of course, a black steel stiletto, for only such a +weapon can kill a vampire. He should have stabbed the dead man in his +neck and through the throat, but he was so sick that he could hardly +stand; besides, his candle that instant went out, and, moreover, he +was terribly frightened, for although he was stabbing but a corpse, +still that corpse was his own brother. + +A flash of lightning which followed that instant of perfect darkness +showed him that the dagger, instead of being stuck in the dead man's +neck, was thrust in the right cheek. + +The ceremony being now over, the priests and their attendants +hastened back to the chapel to take shelter from the rage of the +storm, as well as to escape from the pestilential stench. + +The sexton alone remained outside to heap up the earth again on the +uncanny corpse, and shut up the grave. + +"Are you sure you stabbed the corpse in the neck, severing the +throat, and thus preventing it from ever sucking blood again?" asked +the priest. + +"Yes, I believe I have," answered Vranic, with a whining voice. + +"I don't ask you what you believe; have you done it--yes, or no?" +said the ecclesiastic, sternly. + +"Well, just as I lifted my knife to stab, the candle went out. I +couldn't see at all; the night was so dark; you all were far from me. +Besides, as I bent down, the smell made me so sick that----" + +"You don't know where you stabbed?" added the priest, angrily. + +"He stabbed him in the cheek!" said the sexton, coming in. + +"Fool!" burst out the priest, in a stentorian voice. + +"I was sure this would be the case," cried out one of the party. +"Vranic has always been a bungler of a tailor." + +"You have done a fine piece of work, you have, indeed, you wretch!" +hissed the priest, looking at Vranic scornfully. + +"You have endowed that cursed brother of yours with everlasting +life," said the other priest, "and now the whole town will be +infested with another vampire for ever!" + +"Do you really think so?" asked Vranic, ready to burst out crying. + +"Think so!" said all the other men, scornfully. "To bring us here in +the middle of the night with this storm, to stifle us with this +poisonous stench, and this is the result!" + +"But really----" stammered Vranic. + +"Anyhow, he'll not leave you till he has sucked the last drop of +blood from your body." + +The storm having somewhat abated, all the company wended their way +homewards, taking no notice of the tailor, who followed them like a +mangy cur which everyone avoids. + +That night, Vranic had not a wink of sleep. No one would have him in +his house; nobody would sleep with him, for fear of falling +afterwards a prey to the vampire. As soon as he lay down and tried to +shut his eyes, the terrifying sight appeared before him. The +festering ghost with the horrible gash in the cheek, just over the +jaw-bone, was ever present to his eyes; nor could he get rid of the +loathsome, sickening stench with which his clothes, nay, his very +body, seemed saturated. If a mouse stirred he fancied he could see +the ghost standing by him. He hid his head under the bed-cover not to +see, not to hear, until he was almost smothered, and every now and +then he felt a human hand laid on his head, on his shoulder, on his +legs, and his teeth chattered with fear. + +The storm ceased; still, the sky remained overcast, and a thin, +drizzling rain had succeeded the interrupted showers. The dreadful +night came to an end; he was happy to see the grey light of dawn +succeed the appalling darkness. Daylight brought with it happier +thoughts. + +"Perhaps," said he to himself, "my brother was no vampire, after all! +Perhaps the blade of the dagger, driven in the cheek, had penetrated +slantingly into the neck, severed the throat, and thus killed the +vampire; for something must have happened to keep the ghost away." + +On the next day Vranic remained shut up at home. He felt sure that +his own relations would henceforth hate him, and his acquaintances +would stone him if they possibly could. Nothing makes a man not only +unjust, but even cruel, like fear, and no fear is greater than the +vague dread of the unknown. That whole day he tried to work, but his +thoughts were always fixed either on the festering corpse he had +stabbed or on the coming night. + +Would the ghoul, reeking of hell, come and suck up his blood? + +As the light waned his very strength began to flow away, his legs +grew weak, his flesh shivered, the beating of his heart grew ever +more irregular. + +He lighted his little oil-lamp before it was quite dark, looked about +stealthily, trembling lest he should see the dreaded apparition +before its time, started and shuddered at the slightest noise. + +He was weary and worn out by the emotions of the former sleepless +night; still, he could not make up his mind to go to bed. He placed +his elbows on the board, buried his head within his hands, and +remained there brooding over his woes. Without daring to lift up his +eyes or look around, he at times stretched out his hand, clutched a +gourd full of spirits and took a sip. Time passed, the twilight had +faded away into soft, mellow darkness without; but in the tailor's +room the little flickering light only rendered the shadows grim and +gruesome. + +Drink and lassitude at last overpowered the poor man; his head began +to get drowsy, his ideas more confused; the heaviness of sleep +weighed him down. + +All at once he was roused from his lethargy by a sound of rushing +winds. He hardly noticed it when it blew from afar, like the slight +breeze that ruffles the surface of the sea; but, now that it came +nearer, he remembered having heard it some evenings before. He grew +pale, panted, and then his breath stopped, convulsed as he was by +fear. + +As upon the previous night, the wind was lost in the distance, and +then in the stillness of the night he heard the low, hushed sound of +footsteps coming from afar; but they drew nearer and ever nearer, +with a heavy, slow, metrical step. The night-walker was near his +house, at his door, on his threshold. The loathsome, sickening smell +of corruption grew stronger and stronger. Now it was as +overpoweringly nauseous as when he had bent down to stab his dead +brother. The sound of footsteps was now within his room; the spectre +must surely be by his side. He kept his eyes tightly shut and his +head bent down. A cold perspiration was trickling from his forehead +and through his fingers on to the table. + +All at once, something heavy and metallic was thrown in front of him. +Although his eyes were tightly shut, he knew that it was the black +dagger that his brother had come to bring him back, and he was not +mistaken. + +Was there a chuckle just then? + +Almost against his will he opened his eyes, lifted his head, and +looked at his guest. The vampire was standing by his side grinning at +him hideously, notwithstanding the gash in his right cheek. + +"Thank you, brother," said he, in a hollow, mocking voice, "for what +you did yesterday; you have, in fact, given me everlasting life; and, +as one good turn deserves another, you soon will be a vampire along +with me. Come, don't look so scared, man; it's a pleasant life, after +all. We sleep soundly during the day, and, believe me, no bed is so +comfortable as the coffin, no house so quiet as the grave; but at +night, when all the world sleeps and only witches are awake, then we +not only live, but we enjoy life. No cankering care, no worry about +the morrow. We have only fun and frolic, for we suck, we suck, we +suck." + +Vranic heard the sound of smacking lips just by his neck, the vampire +had already laid his hands upon him. + +He tried to rise, to struggle, but his strength and his senses +forsook him; he uttered a choked, raucous sound, then his breath +again stopped spasmodically, his face grew livid, he gasped for +breath, his face and lips got to be of a violet hue, his eyes shut +themselves, as he dropped fainting in his chair. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +THE FACE IN THE MIRROR + + +A few days after Radonic had been brought back dying, Uros was +walking down the mountain path leading from the heights of Montenegro +to the Dalmatian coast. He was even in higher spirits than he was +usually wont to be. + +His father had accompanied him to the frontier, and on the way he had +opened his heart to him, and told him of his love for Milena, and +even obtained his consent for his marriage, which might take place as +soon as her widowhood was over. Bellacic, moreover, had promised to +write to his friend, Giulianic, to release him from his pledge. + +The day, as it dawned now, was a glorious one, bright, clear and +fresh. After the storm and rain of the day before, the dark crags of +the Cernagora seemed but newly created, or only just arisen out of +the glittering waters that stretched down below in a translucent, +misty mass of sluggish streams flowing through a cloudy ocean. + +The breeze that blew from the mountain-tops seemed to him like some +exhilarating, life-giving fluid. Exercise--not prolonged as yet +--rendered his senses of enjoyment keener; he felt happy with himself +and with the world at large. He was in one of those rare moods in +which a man would like the earth to be a human being, so as to clasp +it fondly to his breast, as he does a child, or the woman he loves. + +Although he did not rejoice at Radonic's death, still, as he loved +Milena, it was natural that he was glad the obstacle to his happiness +had been removed, and a wave of joy seemed to rise from his heart +upwards as his nerves tingled with excitement at the thought that in +a few months she might be his wife. + +Therefore, with his blithe and merry character, ever prone to look on +the bright side of life, it is easy to imagine his buoyancy of +spirits as he walked down to Budua. Every step was bringing him +nearer her; before the sun had reached its zenith he would be at +home, clasping her in his arms; she--Milena--would be his for ever, +and he crossed his arms and hugged himself in his excited state of +mind. + +Then he began to imagine Milenko's delight when he would hear that +he, too, could marry the girl he loved. + +It is not to be wondered at that he thought the earth a good +dwelling-place, and that life--taking it on the whole--was not only +worth living, but very pleasant besides. It is true, he said to +himself, that man sometimes mars the work of God with his passions; +still, _karvarinas_ were the clouds of life, enhancing the beauty of +the bright days which followed sudden showers. Sullen and malicious +men like Vranic and his brood were buzzing insects, more tedious than +harmful to their fellow-creatures. + +Such were the thoughts that flitted through his mind as he walked +briskly along, singing as blithely as a lark. As he had, the day +before, sent word to Milenko that he would be back on the morrow, he +stopped at every turn of the road, and, shading his eyes with his +hand, he looked down the road, hoping to see his friend's graceful +figure coming to meet him, as was sure to be the case. + +He had never been separated from Milenko for so many days, and now +that he was about to see him, his longing seemed to increase at every +step. + +As for Milenko, being of a more sensitive character, and having +remained on board, he had missed his friend even more keenly than +Uros had done. He would have started to meet him at early dawn, but +he had been obliged to remain behind and look after the ship's cargo, +that had been delayed the evening before on account of some trifling +incident--for, sometimes, things of no importance in themselves lead +to the most dreadful calamities. Likewise, the string of one of +Milenko's shoes broke, so he stopped to tie it; after some steps it +broke again. He stopped once more, pulled off his shoe, unlaced it, +tied the string as well as he could. After a quarter of an hour the +string of the other shoe broke too; he had again to stop and mend it. +More than five minutes was thus lost; besides, the loose strings not +only made him linger, but even slacken his pace. + +Uros went down singing snatches of some merry song, little thinking +that the delay in meeting his friend would almost cost him his life. + +The news of Radonic's death had soon been spread about Budua, and he, +who had never been a favourite during his lifetime, became a hero +after death. The Samson-like way in which he had fought was extolled, +the number of wounds he had received, the hundreds of Turks he had +killed went on daily increasing. His dauntless courage, his bold +feats, his cunningness in council were becoming legendary; in fact, +he was for some time a second Marko Kraglievic. The Vranite party +--especially after the night of the burying-ground affair--had +dwindled into nothing. The Radonites ruled the day. + +Earless Vranic, as he was called everywhere, was galled by his +defeat; his envious, jealous disposition could find no rest. Being, +moreover, doomed to a certain death, he found himself like a stag at +bay, and he almost felt at times the courage of despair. + +The radiant day which followed the dreadful night when the vampire +appeared to him brought no change to Vranic's gloom. He was too much +like a night-bird now to feel any pleasure at the sight of the sunlit +sky. Like an owl he shunned the light, and only prowled about when +every man had shut himself up in his house. He dreaded the sight of a +human face on account of the scowl of hatred he was sure to see +there, for he knew that everyone looked upon him not as a man, but as +the bloodsucker he would soon become. + +Having recovered from his fainting-fit after the visit of the +_voukoudlak_, he almost lost his senses again, seeing the black +dagger on the table in front of him. With a fluttering heart, and +aching head and tottering limbs, he walked about his room, asking +himself what he should do and how he could escape the wretchedness of +his present life. Suicide never came into his head, for, in spite of +all his misery, life still was dear to him. The best thing would, +perhaps, be to leave Budua for a short time, and thus frustrate the +vampire. + +As he had to go and pay the priest for the ceremony of the exorcism, +he decided to ask, and perhaps take, his advice upon what he was to +do and where he should go. He went grudgingly, indeed, to pay a large +sum of money for a ceremony which had been of no avail, and although +it had not been the priest's fault if the ghost had not been killed, +still the money was being thrown away, for all that. + +Before leaving the house, he took the black dagger, washed and +scrubbed it with fine sand to cleanse it from the offensive smell it +had, then he put it in his breast pocket, where he had had it some +nights before. With heavy steps he trudged towards the priest's house +at dawn, before the people of the town were up and about the streets. +The priest, who was an early riser, had just got up. Vranic, with +unwilling hands, undid the strings of his purse, and counted out, +with many a sigh, the sum agreed upon, for the priest would not bate +a single cent. Then Vranic, with his eyes gloating on the silver +dollars, told the clergyman how the vampire had appeared to him and +overcome him. + +"Aye," said the priest, "I was afraid that would be the case." + +"And now I'd like to leave the town, for I might thus avoid the +vampire." + +"The best thing you could do." + +"Yes, but where am I to go in order to escape the ghost?" + +"I think the best place for you is the Convent of St. George. Surely +the spectre 'll not follow you there in those hallowed walls, amongst +all those saintly men." + +"Yes, but will the brotherhood receive me?" + +"Tell them that I sent you. Moreover, I'll call myself during the day +and speak to them. May I add that, perhaps, you'll be induced to turn +caloyer yourself some day or other. Meanwhile, a little charity to +the convent would render your stay more agreeable. You know the +brotherhood is poor." + +Vranic thanked the priest, and promised to be guided by his advice; +still, he could not help thinking of all the money this new scheme +might cost him. It is true, if he turned friar, he might get rid of +the vampire, but would he not also lose all his money into the +bargain? + +Which was the greater evil of the two--to be sucked of all his blood, +or drained of all his money? + +Out of the town gate, far from the haunts and scowling faces of men, +he breathed a little more at ease. Were they not all a set of +grasping, covetous ghouls, whose only aim was to wrench all he had +from him? The dazzling sunshine and the dancing waves, far from +soothing him, only irritated him, for he fancied that all the world +was blithe, merry and happy, and he alone was miserable. He thought +how happy he, too, might have been had that cursed _karvarina_ not +taken place. He had never felt any deep hatred against Radonic, nor +had he any real reason for disliking him; for, to be true to himself, +his brother's murder had been an incident, not an accident, in his +life. It was not Radonic's fault if the ghost-seer had become a +vampire after his death. All his grudge was rather against Bellacic, +who had helped to frustrate him of a good round sum of money, owed to +him for his brother's blood. He hated him especially for having +inflicted a bodily and moral wound by cutting off his ear, rendering +him thus an object of everlasting scorn in the whole town. + +Radonic was dead, but Bellacic lived to triumph over him. If he could +only wreak his vengeance upon him he might pacify the vampire's rage; +if not, he could always make his escape into the convent. With these +thoughts in his head, he clutched the handle of the dagger and, as he +did so, he shivered from head to foot with a kind of hellish delight. + +Just then he fancied he heard a distant chuckle and looked round. He +could see nobody. It was only his imagination. Almost at the same +time he heard a voice whisper softly in his ear: + +"Use this dagger against my enemies better than you did against me, +and then, perhaps, you might be free." + +Was it his brother ordering him what he was to do? Instead of +stopping at the convent, should he go on to Montenegro, waylay +Bellacic and murder him? + +He had been walking, or rather, crawling quietly on, for about two +hours; the sun was high up in the sky, the day was hot, the road +dusty, and, worn out by sleeplessness, by worry and, above all, by +the great loss of blood, he was now overcome by weariness and +weakness. The monastery was at last in sight; still, he felt as if he +could hardly crawl any further on; so, undecided as he was, he sat +down at the side of some laurel-bushes to rest and make up his mind +as to what he was to do. + +He had not been sitting there a quarter of an hour, blinking at the +sun, like an owl, when he heard snatches of an unknown song, wafted +from afar. It was not one of the plaintive lays of his own country, +but a lively, blithe Italian canzonet, with trills that sounded like +the merry warbling of a lark. The singing stopped--it began again, +then stopped once more; after that he heard a light, brisk step +coming towards him. A man who could sing and walk in such a way must +surely be happy, he thought. Then, without knowing who the man was, +he hated him for being happy. Why should some people have all the +sweetness, and others all the gall of life? he asked himself. Is not +this world a fool's paradise for him and a dungeon for me? In my +wretchedness he seems to taunt me with his mirth. Well, if ever I +become a vampire, the first blood I'll suck is that man's; and I'll +drain the very last drop, for it must be warm and sweet. + +Just then the light-hearted singer passed by the laurel-bushes, +without perceiving the owl-like man half hidden behind them. Vranic, +lifting up his head, saw the flushed face, the sparkling eyes, the +red and parted lips of his enemy's son--the youth who, by his beauty +and his criminal love, had been the cause of all the mischief. Had it +not been for him, his brother would probably not have been murdered, +and, what was far worse, become a _voukoudlak_. Instinctively he +clasped the handle of his dagger, and the words he had heard a little +while before rang once more in his ears, urging him to make good use +of the knife now that an opportunity offered itself. Besides, would +not his revenge be a far keener one in killing this young man, his +father's only son, than in murdering Bellacic himself? This was real +_karvarina_, and his lost ear would be dearly paid for. + +Uplifted by a strength which was not his own, urged on almost +unconsciously, Vranic jumped up and ran after the merry youth. + +Uros just at that moment had perceived Milenko at a distance, and, +hurrying down to meet him, he, in his joy, had not heard the fiend +spring like a tiger from behind the bush and rush at him with +uplifted knife. + +Milenko, seeing Vranic appear all at once, with a dagger in his hand, +stopped, uplifted both his hands, and uttered a loud cry of terror, +threat and anger. + +Uros, for an instant, could not understand what was happening; but +hearing someone running after him, and already close to his heels, he +turned round, and to his horror he saw Josko Vranic scowling at him. +The face, with its blinking eyes and all its nerves twitching +frightfully, had a fierce and fiendish expression--it was, in fact, +just as he had seen it in the glass on New Year's Eve, at the fatal +stroke of twelve. + +A moment of overpowering superstitious terror came over Uros; he knew +that his last hour had arrived. In his distracted state, Uros had +only time to lift up his arm in an attitude of self-defence, but +Vranic was already upon him, plunging the sharp-pointed blade in his +breast. The youth uttered a low, muffled groan, staggered, put his +hands instinctively to the deep gash, as if to stop the blood from +all rushing out; then he fell senseless on the ground. + +Vranic plucked the poniard out of the wound mechanically; his arm +fell heavily of its own weight. Then, struck with a sudden terror, +not because he saw Milenko rushing up, but because he was bewildered +at what he had so rashly done, he, after standing quite still for a +moment, turned round and fled. + +Milenko had already rushed to his friend's side; he was clasping him +in his arms, lifting him up with the tender fondness of a mother +nursing a sickly babe. Alas! all his loving care seemed vain; the +point of the dagger must have entered within his heart, and death had +been instantaneous. + +Milenko did not lose his presence of mind for an instant; nor did he +try to run after the murderer. He took off his broad sash which he +wore as a belt, tore up his shirt, rolled a smooth stone in the rag, +and with this pad (to stop up the blood) he bandaged up the wound as +tightly as he possibly could. Then he took up his friend in his arms, +and although Uros was a heavier weight than himself, still his life +of a sailor had strengthened his muscles to such a degree that he +carried his burden, if not with ease, at least, not with too great +difficulty, down to the neighbouring convent. + +It was well known in town that some of the holy men were versed in +medicine, and especially that the secret of composing salves, and the +knowledge of simples with which to heal deadly wounds, was +transmitted by one friar on his death-bed to another. Still, when +Milenko had laid down his friend upon a bed, the wisest of these wise +men shook their heads gravely and declared the case to be a desperate +one. The head surgeon said that, if life were not already extinct--as +Milenko had believed--still the youth's recovery could only be +brought about by a miracle, for he was already beyond all human help. + +Milenko felt his legs giving way. A cold, damp draught seemed to blow +on his face. + +"He might," continued the old man, "last some hours; he might even +linger on for some days." + +"Anyhow," added another caloyer, "we have time to administer the Holy +Sacrament and prepare him for heaven." + +"Oh, yes! there is time for that," quoth the doctor, shrugging his +shoulders; "but, before the wine and bread, I'll prepare the +cathartic water with which to wash the wound, for while there is life +a doctor must not give up hope." + +"Then," said Milenko, falteringly, "I can leave him to your care, and +run and fetch his mother; he'll not pass away till my return?" + +"Not if you make every possible haste." + +"You promise?" + +"He is in God's hands, my son." + +With a heavy heart, and with the tears ever trickling down his +cheeks, Milenko ran down the mountain, and all the way from the +convent to the gates of Budua. He stopped to take breath before +Bellacic's house, and then he went in, and, composing his face as +well as he could, he gently broke the terrible news to the forlorn +mother. + +Mara was a most courageous woman. Far from fainting and requiring all +attendance upon herself, she bethought herself at once of the +difficulty in the way, for she knew that no women were admitted into +a convent of monks. One person alone might help her. This was her +uncle, a priest of high degree, and a most important personage in the +town. + +She hastened to his house, and, having explained matters to him, she +implored him to start at once with her for the Convent of St. George +and obtain for her the permission she required. The good man, +although he hated walking, was not only very fond of his niece, but +loved Uros as his own son, so he acceded at once to her request and +set out with her, notwithstanding that it was nearly dinner-time, and +not exactly an hour suited for a long up-hill walk. Milenko, having +broken the news to Mara, hastened to his own house to inform his +parents of the great misfortune. His father, snatching up a loaf of +bread and a gourd of wine, started at once with him. He would go as +far as the convent, enquire there how Uros was getting on, and then +hasten on to Montenegro and inform Bellacic of what had taken place. +When they all got to the convent they found that Uros was still alive +and always unconscious. + +Just when Milenko had got back to the convent he remembered that, in +his hurry to go and return, he had forgotten one person, dearer to +his friend, perhaps, even than father or mother; that person was +Milena. + +When the news of Radonic's death reached Budua, Milena made up her +mind to return to her father's house. Still, she was rather weak to +undertake the journey, and, moreover, she would not go there until +Uros had come back. + +On the morning on which Uros was expected she had gone to her own +house, to put things in order previous to her departure, and Mara had +promised to come and see her that afternoon, and take her home with +her. + +Time passed; Milena was sitting in her house alone, waiting for her +friend. At every step she heard outside, her heart would begin to +beat faster, and with unsteady steps she would go to the window, +hoping to see Uros and his mother; but she was always disappointed. +Her sufferings had told their tale upon her thin pale face, which, +though it had lost all its freshness, had acquired a new and more +ethereal kind of beauty. Her large and lustrous eyes--staring at +vacancy--seemed to be gazing at some woful, soul-absorbing vision. +The whole of that day she had been a prey to the most gloomy +forebodings. + +All at once a little urchin of about four or five summers stood on +the doorstep. + +"_Gospa_ Milena," lisped the little child, "I've come to see you." + +It had been a daring deed to wander all the way from home by +himself, and he was rather frightened. + +This child was the son of one of Mara's neighbours, whom Milena had +of late made a pet of, and whom she had sometimes taken along with +her when coming to her house. + +Milena turned round and looked at the little child, that might well +have been taken for an angel just alighted from heaven, for the +slanting rays of the setting sun shining through his fair, +dishevelled, curly locks seemed to form a kind of halo round his +little head. + +"Have you come all the way from home to see me?" + +"Yes," said the child, staring at her to see whether she was cross. +"I've come for you to tell me a story." + +Milena caught up the boy and covered him with kisses. She was about +to ask him if he knew whether Uros had returned, but the question +lingered for an instant on her lips; then she blushed, and feared to +frame her thoughts in words. Anyhow, it was a very good excuse to +shut up her house and take the little boy back home. + +"Will you tell me a story?" persisted the urchin. + +"Yes," said Milena, smiling, "for you must be tired and hungry, too." + +She went into the orchard behind the house, and presently came back +with a huge peach, which made the child's eyes glisten with pleasure. + +"Now, come and sit down here, and when you've finished your peach +I'll take you home." + +Thereupon she sat down on her favourite seat, the doorstep, and the +child nestled by her side. + +"What story shall I tell you?" + +"One you've already told me," replied the boy, for, like almost all +children, he liked best the stories he already knew. + +Milena then began the oft-repeated tale of + + +THE MAN WHO SERVED THE DEVIL. + +"Once a farmer's only son married a very young girl----" + +"How old was she?" interrupted the child. + +"She was sixteen." + +"Last time you told me she was fifteen." + +"So she was, but that was a year ago. They had a very grand wedding, +to which all the people of the village were invited----" + +"Not the village, the town," said the child. + +"You are right," added Milena, correcting herself. + +"For eight days they danced the _Kolo_ every night, and had grand +dinners and suppers." + +"What had they for dinner?" + +"They had roast lambs, _castradina_, chickens, geese----" + +"And also sausages?" + +"Yes; and ever so many other good things." + +"But what had they for supper?" + +"They had huge loaves of milk-bread and cakes with raisins----" + +"Had they also peaches?" asked the boy, with his mouth full, whilst +the juice of his own luscious peach was trickling down his chin. + +"Yes; they had also grapes, melons and pomegranates; so when every +guest had eaten till he could hardly stand, all squatted on the floor +and sucked sticks of sugar-candy. When the eight days' feasting was +over, the bridegroom weighed himself and, to his dismay, found that +he was eight pounds lighter than on the eve of his marriage." + +"Why?" asked the child, with widely-opened eyes. + +"Because," answered Milena, with a slight smile and the faintest of +blushes, "because, I suppose, he had danced too much." + +"But if he ate till he couldn't stand?" + +"Anyhow," continued Milena, "he was so frightened when he saw how +much he had lost in weight that he made up his mind to run away and +leave his wife at home." + +"But why?" quoth the urchin. + +"Because he thought that if he kept getting thin at that rate, +nothing would soon be left of him. He, therefore, made a bundle of +his clothes and went off in the middle of the night. He walked and +walked, and after a few days, at early dawn, he got to a bleak and +desolate country, where there was nothing but huge rocks, sharp +flints, and sandy tracts of ground. Far off he saw a large castle, +with high stone walls and big iron gates. Being very tired and not +seeing either a tree or a bush as far as eye could reach, he went +and knocked at one of the gates. An elderly gentleman, dressed in +black, came to open, and asked him what he wanted. + +"'I come,' said the bridegroom, 'to see if you are, perhaps, in want +of a serving-man.' + +"'You come in the nick of time,' said the old man, grinning. 'I'll +take you as my cook; you'll not have much to do.' + +"'But,' answered the young man, 'I'm not very clever as a cook.' + +"'It doesn't matter; you'll only have to keep a pot boiling and be +ever stirring what's in it.' + +"He then led the young man into a kind of underground kitchen, where +there was an immense pot hanging on a hook, and underneath a roaring +fire was burning. Then the old gentleman gave the youth a ladle as +big as a shovel, and bade him stir continually, and every now and +then add more fuel to the fire. + +"The youth stirred on and on for twenty-five years, and then he grew +tired and stopped for a while. When he was about to begin again he +heard a voice coming out of the cauldron, which said: + +"'You've been mixing us up for a good long while; couldn't you let us +have a little rest?' + +"The cook--who was no more a youth, but an elderly man--got +frightened. He left the kitchen and went to find his master. + +"'Well,' said the elderly gentleman, who was not a day older than he +had been twenty-five years before, 'what is it you want?' + +"'I'm rather tired of always stirring that pot, and I'd like to go +home.' + +"'Quite right,' replied the master. 'I suppose you want your wages?' + +"He then went to an iron box and took out two big sacks of gold +coins. + +"'You have served me faithfully, and I'll pay you accordingly. This +money is yours.' + +"The man took the money and thanked his master. + +"'I'll give you, moreover, some advice, which is, perhaps, worth more +than the money itself. Listen to my words, and remember them. Upon +leaving me, always take the high road; on no account go through lanes +and byways. Never put up for the night at little hostelries, but +always stop at the largest inns. Whenever you are about to commit +some rash act, defer your purpose till the morrow. Lastly, when +people speak badly of the devil, tell them that he is less black than +he is painted.' + +"The man thanked his master and went off. He walked for some time on +the highway, and then he met another traveller, who was walking in +the same direction. After a few hours they came to a crossway. + +"'Let us take this path, for we'll get to the next town two hours +sooner,' said the traveller. + +"The devil's cook was about to follow the stranger's advice, when he +heard his master's words ringing in his ears: 'Always take the high +road, and on no account go through lanes and byways.' + +"He, therefore, told his fellow-traveller how he had pledged his word +to his master to follow his advice. As neither could persuade the +other, they parted company, promising each other to meet again at +nightfall, at the neighbouring town. + +"As soon as the devil's cook reached the inn where he was to spend +the night, he asked for his new friend, and, on the morrow, he was +grieved to hear that a wayfarer, answering to the traveller's +description, had been murdered the day before, when crossing the +lonely byway leading to the town. + +"The devil's cook set out once more on his way, and he was soon +overtaken by a party of merry pedlars, all journeying towards his +native town, where, a few days afterwards, there was to be a fair +held in honour of a patron saint. He made friends with all of them, +especially as he bought silk kerchiefs, dresses and trinkets, as +presents for his wife. They trudged along the high road, avoiding all +short cuts, lanes and byways. In the evening they came to a large +village, where they were to pass the night. + +"'Let us stop here,' said one of the party, pointing to a tavern by +the roadside; 'I know the landlord; the cooking is very good, nowhere +can you get a better glass of wine; and besides, it is much cheaper +than at the large inn farther down.' + +"The devil's cook was already on the threshold, when he again +remembered his master's words: + +"'Never put up at little hostelries, but always stop at the larger +inns.' + +"He, therefore, parted from his company, and went off by himself to +the next inn. + +"He had his supper by himself, and then, being very tired, he went +off to bed. In the middle of the night he was awakened by a very loud +noise and a great bustle. He got out of bed, and, going to the +window, he saw the sky all red, and the village seemed to be in +flames. He went downstairs, and he was told that the little tavern by +the roadside was burning. It appears that the travellers who had +stopped there had all got drunk. Somehow or other they had set fire +to the house, and, in their sleep, had all got burnt. + +"The devil's cook was again grateful to his master for his good +advice, and on the morrow he once more set out on his way alone. + +"In the evening he at last reached his native town. He was surprised +at the many changes that had taken place since he had left it +twenty-five years before. On the square, just in front of his own +house, a large inn had been built; therefore, instead of going at +once to his wife's, he went to pass the night at the inn, and see +what was taking place at home. + +"From the windows of the inn he saw all his house illuminated, and +people coming in and going out as if some wedding or other grand +feast were taking place. Then, in one of the rooms of the first floor +he saw his wife--now a buxom matron--together with two handsome +youths in priest's attire. To his horror and dismay, he saw her +hugging and fondling the young men, who were covering her with +kisses. At this sight he got into such a rage that he took out his +pistol." + +"No," said the child, interrupting, "he took up his gun, which was in +a corner of the room." + +"Quite right," answered Milena; "he took up his gun, aimed at his +wife, and was about to shoot, when he fancied he heard his master's +voice saying: + +"'Whenever you are about to commit some rash act, put off your +purpose till the morrow.' + +"He, therefore, thought he would postpone his revenge till the next +day, and he went downstairs to have his supper. + +"'Who lives opposite,' he asked of the landlord, 'in that house where +they seem to be having such grand doings?' + +"'A very virtuous woman,' quoth the host, 'whose husband disappeared +in a strange, mysterious way on the eighth day of the wedding feast, +and has never been heard of since.' + +"'And she never married again?' + +"'No, of course not.' + +"'But who are those two handsome priests that are with her?' + +"'Those are her two boys, twins born shortly after the marriage. The +house is illuminated as to-morrow the two young men are to be +consecrated priests, and their mother is giving a feast in their +honour.' + +"On the morrow the husband went home, made himself known, presented +each of his two sons with a sack of gold coins, gave his wife all the +beautiful presents he had bought for her; then he went to church and +assisted at the ceremony of the consecration. After that he gave all +his old friends a splendid feast, which lasted eight days; and he +told them how, for twenty-five years, he had served the devil, who +was by no means as black as he is painted." + +"I wonder," said the child, "if he got thin again after the feast." + +"I don't know," replied Milena, "for the story stops there." + +"No, it doesn't, for my papa said that many people tried to go and +offer themselves as cooks to the devil, but that they had never been +heard of since then." + +"And now I'll take you home. Perhaps we'll meet _gospa_ Mara on our +way." + +"No, we'll not meet her," said the child, abruptly. + +"Why? Because Uros has come home?" + +"But Uros hasn't come home." + +"How do you know?" + +"I know, because _Capitan_ Milenko came this morning and told _gospa_ +Mara that Josko Vranic had killed Uros, and so she went off at once +to the Convent of St. George, where----" + +Milena heard no more. A deadly faintness came over her; she loosened +the grasp of the door she had clutched, her legs sank under her, and +she fell lifeless on the ground. + +The urchin looked at her astonished. He, for a moment, gave up +sucking his peach-stone; then he turned on his heels and scampered +home to inform his mother about what had happened. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + +THE CONVENT OF ST. GEORGE + + +When Mara reached the convent, it was with the greatest difficulty, +and only through the persuasive influence of her uncle, Danko +Kvekvic, that she was allowed to see her son. Uros, moreover, had to +be transported from the cell into which he had been carried, into a +room near the church--a sort of border-land between the sanctuary and +the convent. Even there she was only allowed to remain till +nightfall. + +"Tell me," said Mara, to the ministering monk (a man more than six +feet in height, and who, in his black robes, seemed a real giant), +"tell me, do you think he might pass away during the night while I am +not with him?" + +"No, I don't think so. He is young and strong; he is one of our +sturdy race--a Iugo Slav, not a Greek, or an effete Turk eaten away +by vice and debauchery. He'll linger on." + +"Still, there is no hope?" + +"Who can tell? I never said there was none. For me, as long as there +is a faint spark of life, there is always hope." + +"Still, you have administered the sacrament to him?" + +"You wouldn't have him die like a dog, would you?" answered the +priest, combing out his long white beard with his fingers. + +"No, certainly not." + +"Besides, we all take the sacrament when we are in bodily health. +Your son came to himself for a few moments, and we seized the +opportunity to administer to him the Holy Communion and pray with +him; it does no harm to the body, whilst it sets the troubled mind at +ease." + +Danko Kvekvic, Mara and Milenko crossed themselves devoutly. + +"It cannot be denied," continued the monk, "that our patient lies +there with both his feet in the grave. Still, God is omnipotent. I +have seen many a brave man fall on the battlefield----" + +"You have been in war?" asked Milenko, astonished. + +"Bearing the Cross and tending the wounded." + +"Still, it is said that at times you wielded the gun with remarkable +dexterity," interrupted Danko Kvekvic, with a keen smile. + +"Do people say so? Well, what if they do? I am sure no harm is meant +by it; for, if my memory does not deceive me, the very same thing was +said about a priest who is no monk of our order, Danko Kvekvic, and +who, for all that, is said to be a holy man." + +"Well, well, we all try to serve our God and our country as well as +we can; and no doubt we have done our best to save our flag from +being trampled in the dust, or a fellow-countryman's life when in +danger. But I interrupted you; tell me what you have seen on the +battlefield." + +"Nothing, except blood spilt; but I was going to say that I've seen +many a man linger within the jaws of death for days together, and +then be snatched from danger when his state became desperate." + +"By your skill, father," said Mara, "for we are all aware that you +know the secrets of plants, and that you have effected wonderful +cures by means of simples." + +"Aye, aye! perhaps I have been more successful than the learned +doctors of Dunaj" (Vienna) "or Benetke" (Venice); "still, shall I +tell you the secret of my cures?" + +Mara opened her eyes in wonder. "I thought it was only a death-bed +secret transmitted from one dying monk to his successor," said she. + +"We are not wizards," said the old man, with a pleasant smile; "we +make no mystery of the herbs we seek on the mountains, and even the +youngest lay-brother is taught to concoct an elixir or make a salve +for wounds." + +"But the secret you spoke of?" said Mara. + +"It is the pure life-giving air of our mountains, the sobriety of our +life, our healthy work in the open fields or on the wide sea. Our +sons have in their veins their mothers' blood, for every Serb or +Montenegrin woman is a heroine, a brave _juna-kinja_, who has often +suckled her babe with blood instead of milk. These are the secrets +with which we heal dying men." + +Then, turning to Milenko, he added: + +"You, too, must be a brave young man, and wise even beyond your +years. You have the courage of reason, for you do not lose your head +in moments of great danger. We have already heard how you saved +several precious lives from the waves, and now, if your friend does +recover--and, with God's help, let us hope he will--it is to you, far +more than to anyone else, that he will owe his life. A practised +surgeon could surely not have bandaged the wound and stopped the +hemorrhage better than you did. Your father should have sent you to +study medicine in one of the great towns." + +Mara stretched forth her hand and clasped Milenko. + +"You never told me what you had done, my boy," said she, while the +tears trickled down her cheeks. + +"What I did was little enough; besides, did Uros ever tell you how he +saved my life and dragged me out of prison at Ragusa?" and Milenko +thereupon proceeded to tell them all how he had been accused of +manslaughter, and in what a wonderful way he had been saved by his +friend. + +"In my grief I have always one consolation," said Mara; "should the +worst happen, one son is left me, for they are _pobratim_," said she, +turning to the monk. + +"What has become of the murderer? Has he been arrested?" asked +Kvekvic of Milenko. + +"He took to the rocks and disappeared like a horned adder. At that +moment I only thought of Uros, who would have bled to death had he +been left alone." + +"Oh, those Vranics are a cursed race! The Almighty God has not put a +sign on them for nothing. This one has a cast in his eye, so that men +should keep aloof from him. They are all a peevish, fretful, +malicious race," said Kvekvic. + +"Their blood turns to gall," added the monk. + +"Oh, but I'll find him out, even if he hide himself in the most +secret recess!" quoth Milenko, turning towards Mara. "I'll not rest +till my brother's blood is avenged." + +"'Tooth for tooth, eye for eye,' say our Holy Scriptures," and Danko +Kvekvic crossed himself. + +"Amen!" added the monk, following his example. + +Just then Uros opened his eyes. He came to his senses for a few +seconds, and, seeing his mother, his pupils seemed to dilate with a +yearning look of love. She pressed his hand, and he slightly--almost +imperceptibly--returned the pressure. His lips quivered; he was about +to speak, when he again closed his eyes and his senses began once +more to wander. The monk bathed his lips with the cordial he was +administering him. The patient, apparently, had again fallen off to +sleep. + +Just then the sound of the convent bell was heard. + +"I am sorry," said the old caloyer, turning towards his guests, "but +I have to dismiss you now; the bell you have just heard summons us to +_vecernjca_. When our prayers are over, the doors of our house are +closed for the night--no one comes in or goes out after evensong." + +"But we two can surely remain with you to-night," said Kvekvic, +pointing to Milenko. + +"Surely Father Vjekoslav will readily give you permission to be our +honoured guests as long as you like, if he has not already granted +it; but----" (here the old man hesitated). + +"But what?" asked Kvekvic. + +"The _gospa_," said the monk, turning towards Mara, "must return +home." + +"Yes, I know," added Mara, sighing as she got up. + +"Still," quoth the good caloyer, "we shall take great care of him, +and to-morrow morning you can come as early as you like." + +The poor mother thanked the good old man; she slightly brushed off +the curls from her boy's forehead, kissed him with a deep-drawn sigh, +and with tearful eyes rose to go. + +"Thank you for all the care you have taken of my child; thank you, +uncle Danko, for all your kindness," and she kissed the priest's and +the monk's hands, according to the custom of the Slavs. + +Just then, a young lay-monk came to inform Mara that someone was +asking for her. It was Milenko's mother, who had come up to the +convent door to ask how Uros was getting on, and to see if she could +be of any use, for Milenko, with his usual thoughtfulness, had begged +his mother to come in the evening and accompany her friend back home. + +"Go, Milos, and join the brethren in their prayers," said Danko +Kvekvic. "I shall recite my orisons here, beside my nephew's bed." + +The monk and Milenko accompanied the forlorn mother to the convent +door, and bade her be of good cheer; then they went to church to take +part in the evening service. + +When the candles were all put out, and echoes of the evening-song had +died away, they all slowly, and with stately steps, wended their way +to the refectory, where a simple repast was spread out for them. +Being Friday, the frugal supper consisted of vegetarian food; there +were tomatoes baked with bread-crumbs, egg-plants stuffed with rice, +and other such oriental dishes. The dessert, especially, was a +sumptuous one, not only on account of the thickly-curded sour milk, +but of the splendid fruit which the convent garden afforded. There +were luscious plums as big as eggs; large, juicy and fragrant +peaches, the flesh of which clung to the stone; huge water-melons, +the inside of which looked like crimson snow, and melted away as +such, and sweet-scented musk-melons; above all, big clusters of +grapes of all shapes and hues; rosy-tinted, translucent berries, +looking like pale rubies; dark purple drupes covered with pearly +dust, which seemed like bunches of damsons; big white Smyrna grapes +of a waxy hue, the small sultana of Corinth, and the long grapes that +look like amber tears. + +Milenko, notwithstanding the grief he felt, made a hearty meal, for, +except a bit of bread, broken off as he walked along from his +father's loaf, and a draught of wine, he had scarcely tasted food the +whole of that day; therefore, he was more than hungry. Supper being +over, and a short thanksgiving prayer having been offered, Milenko +found himself all at once surrounded by the monks, who pressed him +with questions, for childish curiosity was their prevailing weakness. + +They were especially interested in the theatrical performances the +young man had witnessed at the Fenice of Venice, for they were amazed +to hear that the grand ladies of the town, all glittering with costly +gems, sat in boxes, where they exhibited to all eyes their naked arms +and breasts, whilst they looked at young girls in transparent skirts +hardly reaching their knees, who kept dancing on the tips of their +toes, or twirled their legs over their partners' heads. Hearing such +lewdness the saintly men were so greatly shocked that they crossed +themselves demurely, and the eldest shook their heads, and said, +reproachfully, that such dens of infamous resort were not places for +modest young men to go to. + +After that, Milenko told them of the last great invention, the boats +that went without sails, but which had two huge wheels moved by fire; +at which the monks again crossed themselves, and said that those were +the devil's inventions, and that if things continued at such a rate, +God would have to send another flood and destroy the world once more. + +Milenko would have willingly escaped from his persecutors, but he +still had to answer many questions about his life on board, the +hardships he had had to undergo, the storms his ship had met with. + +The medical monk had gone to take his place at Uros' bedside, and +Danko Kvekvic, after having had some supper, had come out to breathe +the fresh air on the convent's terrace, where all the caloyers had +assembled before retiring to rest. + +The scene was a most lovely one. Behind the terrace the high +mountains rose dark against the sky; nearer, the black rocks had +furry, velvety, and satin tints, for, under the dark and dusky light +of the disappearing twilight, the stones seemed to have grown soft; +whilst, on the other side, the broad expanse of the sea looked like a +mass of some hard burnished metal. + +The utter quietness, the perfect peace and rest which pervaded the +whole scene, rendered the sense of life a pleasurable feeling; still, +it is doubtful whether most of those holy men--who had never known +the real wear and tear of life--felt all the bliss of that beatific +rest. + +"Now," said Kvekvic to Milenko, "you can come and see your friend, +who, I am sorry to say, seems to be sinking; then you must retire to +rest; you'll soon have to start with your ship, and you should not +unfit yourself for your task." + +"No," pleaded Milenko; "it is, perhaps, the last watch we shall keep +together; therefore, let me stay by his bedside. But, tell me, is he +really getting worse?" + +"The fever is increasing fast, notwithstanding the father's +medicines." + +"Had we not better have a doctor from Budua or Cattaro?" + +"I don't think their skill could be of much use, for I really think +his hours are numbered here below--although he is young, and might +struggle back to life; darkness, albeit, is gathering fast around +him." + +Milenko, with a heavy heart, went back to the sufferer's cell, where +some other monks, also versed in the art of healing, had gathered +around him in a grave consultation. They all said to Milenko that +there was still hope; but, one by one, they all left the room, making +the sign of the Cross, and recommending him to God, as if human aid +could do nothing more for him. + +Poor Milenko felt as if all the nerves of his chest had contracted +painfully; life did not seem possible without the friend, the +constant companion of his infancy. + +As it was agreed that Danko Kvekvic should stay up with the old monk, +all the other caloyers went off to sleep; but presently one of the +younger brothers came in, bearing a tray of fragrant coffee, cooked +in the Turkish fashion. + +"Oh, thank you!" said Kvekvic, rubbing his hands, "I think you must +have guessed my wishes, for, to tell you the truth, I was actually +pining for a draught of that exhilarating beverage, one of the few +good things we owe to the enemies of our creed, for, in fact, I know +of few beverages that can be compared to a cup of fragrant coffee." + +"As far as luxuries go, the Turks are certainly our masters; not only +in confectionery, in sweet-scented sherbet, but even in cooking we +are rude barbarians compared to them." + +"They certainly are hedonists, who know how to render life +pleasurable." + +"Aye," said the monk, sternly, "theirs is the broad path leading to +perdition." Then, after a slight pause, he added: "What is that book +thou hast brought with thee, Blagoslav?" + +"I thought," replied the young man, somewhat bashfully, "I might help +you to pass your long vigil by reading to you; that is, of course, if +it be agreeable to you." + +The poor fellow stammered, and stopped, seeing the little success his +proposal seemed to elicit. + +"Blagoslav," retorted the old man, gravely, "vanity caused the +archangel's downfall, and vanity is thy besetting sin. Blagoslav, +thou knowest that thou readest well, for thou hast too often been +praised for it, and now thou seizest every opportunity to hear the +sound of thine own voice, which, I freely grant, is a pleasant one." + +"Let us hear it, then," said Danko Kvekvic, kindly; "besides, I +firmly believe that brother Blagoslav's intentions were good and----" + +"Danko Kvekvic," said the old man, gruffly, "you are not a general +favourite and an important man in Budua for nothing; you have the +evil knack of flattering people's foibles." + +"Come, come!" said the priest, good-humouredly, "should we pat a cat +on the right side or on the wrong side?" Then, turning to Blagoslav, +he added: "I, for myself, shall be thankful to you for beguiling away +the long hours by reading something to us." + +The young man, who had stood with his eyes cast down, and as still as +a statue, sat down on a stool by the table and opened his book. + +"What volume of ancient lore have you there?" asked the priest, +pleasantly. + +"'The Lives of the Saints,' written by a holy monk of our order." +Then, looking up at the old monk, "Which Life shall I read?" he +asked. + +"Begin with that of our patron saint, Prince George of Cappadocia. It +is a holy legend, which we, of course, all know, for the peasant +often sings it at his plough, the shepherds say it to one another +whilst tending their sheep, and"--turning to Milenko--"I suppose you, +too, have often recited it at the helm when keeping your watch on the +stormy sea." + +"Yes, and invoked his holy name in the hour of danger." Thereupon +Milenko crossed himself, and the others followed suit. + +"It is one of our oldest legends; still, always a very pleasant one +to hear, especially if it is well read. But, before you begin, +Blagoslav, let me first set the sufferer's pillow straight and +administer to his wants; then we shall listen to your reading without +disturbing you." + +The old man suited his actions to his words--felt Uros' pulse, gave +him with a spoon some drops of cordial, and afterwards sat down. + +"Now we are ready," said he to the young monk. + +Blagoslav thereupon began as follows:-- + + +PISMA SVETOGA JURJE. + +THE SONG OF ST. GEORGE + + All hail, O Bosnia! fairest of all lands, + Renowned throughout the world since many an age; + The springtide of the year renews thy bloom, + And with the spring St. George's Day is nigh. + He was the greatest glory of the Cross, + Who taught our fathers Christ's most holy creed. + Now God again has granted us His gifts-- + The life-awakening dews, the greenwood shade, + The sun's bright rays which warm the fruitful meads, + And melt the snow that lingers still a while + Upon the high and hoary mountain-tops; + The flowers fair that grow amongst the grass, + The blood-red rose that sheds its fragrance far, + The tawny swallows, from the sunny South, + That twitter sweetly 'neath the thatched eaves, + Are all the gifts that God sends every year + To Bosnia. Still He grants a greater boon; + This is the gladsome day of great St. George. + For though our land can boast of valiant knights, + Of warlike princes, eke of holy men, + Still greater far than all was _voyvod_ George + Who whilom was of Cappadocia Duke. + He killed the grisly dragon that of yore + Laid waste the land around Syrene's white walls, + And freed the country from a fearful scourge. + Far down a lake full many fathoms deep, + There dwelt this dragon dreadful to behold; + For from his round red eyes he shot forth flames, + And spouted from his snout a sooty smoke + That burnt and blasted all around the mere. + This dragon daily slew those daring knights, + Who, mounted all on prancing, warlike steeds + Had gone to try their strength against the beast; + For on his ghastly green and scaly skin + They bent and broke, or blunted, their best blades, + As striking on the dragon's horrid hide + Was worse than hitting at a coat of mail, + Or cleaving some hard, flinty rock in twain; + So, therefore, like an Eastern potentate, + He reigned and ruled the region round Syrene. + It was a terror-striking sight to see + The horrid beast rise out in snaky coils, + And rear his head with widely-gaping mouth, + As towards the town he hissed with such a din + That shook the strong and battlemented walls; + Thereon to satisfy his hungry maw. + The craven townsfolk, all appalled with fear, + Would--as a dainty morsel--send the beast + Some lovely maiden in the prime of youth. + If naught was offered to the famished beast, + He lifted up his huge and bat-like wings, + And flapping, leapt upon the town's white walls; + There, gripping 'twixt his sharp and cruel claws, + Whoever stood thereby within his reach, + He mauled and maimed, and gulped down men by scores, + Until the ground seemed all around to be + A marsh of mangled flesh and muddy gore, + With skulls half split and jagged, splintered bones. + When each and every man within the town + Had offered up his child unto the fiend, + And every mother wept from early morn, + And saw at night her child in dreadful dreams, + They told the King his turn had come at last + To offer up his daughter to the beast-- + His cherished child, the apple of his eye, + The only heir of all his wide domains. + Oh! brother mine, hadst thou but seen just then + The hot and blinding tears rush from his eyes, + Whilst cruel grief convulsed his manly frame; + At such a woful sight you would have thought + It was some abject woman, not a King, + Who, crouching low, was sobbing on the ground. + He kissed his child and said: "My daughter dear, + Woe worth the day that thou art reft from me! + For now, alas! who is to wear my crown, + Who is to grace my throne when thou art gone?" + When last he ceased to weep, he bade the maids + To deck his daughter out in richest dress, + With costly Orient pearls and priceless gems, + E'en as she were to wed the mighty Czar; + And then he said: "My daughter, as thy suite, + Take thou with thee my dukes, my noblest peers, + And likewise all the ladies of the land, + In sable garments clad to grace thy steps. + Still, let us hope some help may come at last, + And, meanwhile, pray the great god Alkoron. + In dire distress all earthly help is vain; + Alone, thy god may come to thy behest + And free thee from the dreadful dragon's claws." + The mother hugged her daughter to her heart, + The forlorn father blessed his weeping child, + Who then departed to her dismal doom; + And as she crossed the squares, the crowded streets, + The flutes and timbrels played a wailing dirge, + That might have melted e'en a heart of stone. + Behind her walked the lords of high degree, + Then all the noble ladies of the land, + All clad in widow's weeds and trailing veils. + It was, indeed, a grand and glorious sight + To witness all this pageantry of woe, + The stately show of grief, the pomp of tears. + The sun that shone upon the Princess's robes, + Now glittered brightly on the gold brocade; + Her eight rings sparkled all with costly gems, + For each alone was worth at least eight towns; + Her shining girdle, wrought of purest gold, + Was studded o'er with coral and turquoise; + Around her throat she wore a row of pearls, + Iridescent, all brought from far-off seas. + Upon her brow she bore the regal gem, + Which glittered in the sun with such a sheen + That every eye was dazzled by its light. + The maid, moreover, was of beauty rare, + Of tall and slender form, yet stately mien, + And graceful as the topmost bough that bends, + Or branchlet bowing 'neath the summer breeze; + Within her hand she held some lilies white, + The symbols of a young and modest maid. + She crossed with tearful eyes the crowded streets; + With grace she greeted every child she met, + And all--whose hearts were not as cold as clay-- + Shed bitter tears at such a sight of woe, + And sighing, said: "Alas, her mother dear!" + At last when she had almost reached the lake, + The mighty dukes, her father's noble peers, + As well as every lady of her suite, + Appalled with fear, now bade her all farewell, + And hastened back to town before the beast + Arose from out the mere to seize his prey. + Now, God Almighty chose to show His love + Not only to the crowd that stood aghast, + But unto all the region round Syrene. + He, therefore, sent His servant, saintly George, + To turn them from their evil ways to Christ. + The Knight came to the mere just when the maid + Remained alone to weep upon her fate, + Forsaken as she seemed by God and man. + The Knight, who saw her from afar, sped on + With all due haste; then leaping from his steed, + He strode up by her side and asked her why + She stood there by the lake appalled, aghast. + For all reply the Princess only sobbed, + And with her hand she bade him quickly go. + "Can I afford no help?" then asked the Knight. + "Flee fast away, spur on your sprightly steed; + With all due haste, take shelter in the town; + Uprising from the waters of the lake, + The hungry dragon now doth take his meal; + So hie thee hence. Just see, the waters move; + Thou hast no time to tarry here to speak." + But George, undaunted by her words, replied: + "Fair maiden, dry your eyes and trust in me. + Or rather trust in God, who sent me here." + "What shall I do, fair Knight?" the maid replied. + "Forswear," he answered, "all thy gods of clay, + And bow with meekness to the name of Christ, + Whose Cross we bear to reach a better life; + For, with His mighty help, I hope to slay + The hellish beast that haunts this lonely land; + So, therefore, stand aside and let me fight." + Now, when the girl had heard these words of hope, + She hastened to reply unto the saint, + "If God doth grant thee superhuman might, + That wonders as the like thou canst achieve; + If thou hast strength enough to slay the fiend + And free me from this awful fate of mine, + I shall forsake my god, false Alkoron, + And bow with thee unto thine own true God, + Extolling Him as mightier of the two. + If thou wilt also show me how the sign + Of that most mystic Cross is made, Sir Knight, + I shall then cross myself both morn and eve. + Moreover, thou shalt have most costly gifts, + As well as all the gems I bear on me." + She had but hardly uttered these few words + When, lo! the waters blue began to heave, + And bubble up with foam, and then the beast + Upreared on high his dark and scaly head, + That looked just like some sharp and jagged cliff, + 'Gainst which small shipwrecked smacks are dashed at night. + Then, rising from the lake, the horrid beast + Began to spout the water like a whale, + And bellow with a loud, appalling noise, + Just like the crocodiles that lurk unseen + Amongst the sedges growing by the Nile; + The roaring ended in a hollow moan, + As when the hot simoon begins to blow + In fitful blasts across the Libyan plain. + The Princess stood thereby and shook with fear; + She almost fainted at that dreadful sight. + St. George's warlike steed began to rear, + And prance and tremble; then it tried to flee; + But curbing it with might, and wheeling round, + The Knight with clashing strokes attacked the beast. + His sabre, striking on that scaly skin, + Struck forth a shower of sparks that glittered bright + Like ocean spray tossed by the wind at night, + Or glowing iron 'neath the smithy's sledge, + Or when the kindling steel is struck 'gainst flint. + The monster lifted then its leathern wings + And, bat-like, tried to fly. It only looked + Like some old hen alighting from its perch; + With flutt'ring wings outspread it floundered down, + And was about to fall upon the Knight + And crush him 'neath its huge and massy weight; + Or grasp him with its sharp and cruel claws, + Just as an eagle pounces on a lamb. + But George, invoking Mary to his help, + Bent down and wheeled aside; then with one stroke + He plunged his sword within the dragon's side, + Just near the heart, beneath the massy wings. + A flood of dark red blood at once gushed out, + Which forthwith tinged the water with this gore. + The monster yelled aloud with such a din + That shook the white and battlemented walls + Then, writhing like a trodden newt or worm + It wallowed in the dust and seemed to die. + But still, before the dragon passed away, + The Knight undid his long and silken scarf, + And bound it round the monster's scaly neck; + He handed then the scarf unto the maid, + Who now drove on the dragon like a lamb. + They both went through the gate within the town, + Between the gaping crowd that stood aside + To let them pass, amazed at such a sight; + And thus they crossed the streets and crowded squares, + Until they reached the lofty palace gate. + There 'neath the pillared portal stood the King, + Who stared astounded at the sight he saw. + The saintly Knight alighted from his steed, + And bowing low, he said in accents clear: + "Believe in God the Father, mighty King, + Believe in God the Son, and God the Holy Ghost; + Forsake for aye thy lying gods of clay, + And Sire, let all Syrene with bended knee, + Confess the Lord and make the mystic sign + Of Jesus Christ, who died upon the Cross. + If thou provoke the anger of the Lord, + Far greater scourges might then hap to thee." + The King, who saw his own dear child alive, + Shed tears of joy and clasped her to his heart, + And gladly then--and without more ado-- + There in the midst of all the gathered crowd, + With all his Court, he made the mystic sign + That scares the foe of man in darkest hell; + Then bowing down confessed the name of Christ. + Thereon the saint unsheathed the mighty sword, + And with a blow struck off the scaly head. + The dragon, that till then had scourged the town, + Lay wriggling low amidst the throes of death, + And wallowed in a pool of dark red blood, + Emitting a most foul and loathsome smell. + Still, at the ghastly sight all stared well pleased, + Nay, some threw stones and hit the dying beast, + For 'gainst a fallen foe; the vile are brave. + And during all this time the kind old King + Had tried to show the gratitude he felt; + He led the saint within his palace halls, + For there he hoped to grant him many a boon. + "Thou art, indeed," said he, "most brave and true, + Endowed by God with superhuman might, + And as a token of my heartfelt thanks + Accept this chain of gold, for 'tis the meed + Of daring deeds, the like of which thou didst. + This diamond ring till now adorned my hand; + I give it thee. Besides, my gallant Knight, + One half of all my land will now be thine; + Nor even then can I requite thy worth, + Except by granting thee my only child, + My darling daughter, as thy loving bride." + The saint, however, thanked for all these gifts, + And bowing low, he said unto the King: + "Thy gratitude to God alone is due, + For I am but a tool within His hand; + 'Tis He who sent me here to kill the beast, + That hell had sent to waste and scourge your land. + Without His help, a man is but a reed, + A blade of grass that bends beneath the breeze, + A midge that ne'er outlives a single night; + To thy distress He lent a listening ear, + And freed thee from that foul and fiendish beast. + Then dash thy foolish gods of stone and brass, + Build shrines and temples, praise His holy name. + Still, for thy gifts accept my heartfelt thanks; + My task, howe'er, is that to go and preach + The name of Jesus Christ from town to town. + To Persia straightway I must wend my way + And there declare the love of God to man." + Thereon he took his leave and went away + To preach in distant lands a better life; + Converting men of high and low degree. + To Alexandra, who then reigned in Rome, + He bore the tidings of Christ's holy name; + And God e'er granted to this _voyvod_ saint + The might of working strange and wond'rous deeds. + At last he met a saintly martyr's death, + And shed his precious blood for Jesus Christ. + To Thee, St. George, we now devoutly pray, + To be our intercessor with the Lord, + That He vouchsafe His mercy to us all. + + + + +CHAPTER XIX + +THE "KARVA TAJSTVO" + + +The sun had already set as Mara and her friend left the convent gates +and slowly wended their way homewards. The mother's heart was heavily +laden with grief, for although the holy men had done their best to +comfort and encourage her, still doubt oppressed her, and she kept +asking herself whether she would still find her son alive on the +morrow. Now the darkness which slowly spread itself over the open +country, and rendered the surrounding rocks of a gloomier hue, the +broad, blue sea of a dull, leaden tint, only made her sadness more +intense. + +Dusk softens the human heart; it opens it to those tender emotions +unfelt during the struggle of the day, whilst the raging sun pouring +from above enkindles the fierce passions lurking in the heart. That +dimness which spreads itself over the world at nightfall, wrapping it +up as in a vaporous shroud, has a mystic power over our nature. That +clear obscure mistiness seems to open to the mind's eye the distant +depths of borderland; we almost fancy we can see dim, shadowy figures +float past before us. The most sceptic man becomes religious, +superstitious and spiritual at gloaming. + +The two women hardly spoke on their way; both of them prayed for the +sufferer lying in the convent; but whilst they prayed their minds +often wandered from Uros to Milena, who had been left at home ailing. +When they arrived at the gates of the town night had already set in. +Mara hastened home with her friend, but Milena was not there; they +both went to Radonic's house to look for her. They were afraid lest, +in her state of health, she might have heard of her husband's death. + +A dreary night awaited the women there. After the child had left her, +Milena, who had fallen into a swoon, had been delivered of a son; but +the infant, uncared for, and finding the world bleak and desolate, +had fled away, without even waiting for the holy water and the salt +to speed it forth to more blessed regions. + +Milena had only been roused to life by the throes of childbirth, and +no sooner had her deliverance taken place than she again fainted +away. + +Mara's neighbour having, in the meanwhile, been informed by her +little boy of Milena's illness, hastened at once to her help. +Moreover, on her way thither, she called the _babica_ (or midwife), +but when she reached Radonic's house, she found the new-born infant a +cold corpse and the mother apparently dead. The two women did their +utmost to recall Milena to life, but all their skill was of no avail. +At last, at their wits' end, a passer-by was hailed and begged to go +for the doctor at once. + +When Mara came, all hopes of rousing Milena to life had been +despaired of, but what the skill of the scientific practitioner and +of the wise old woman could not bring about, was effected simply by +Mara's presence. After Uros' mother had stood some time by her side, +stroking her hair, pressing her hand on the sufferer's clammy +forehead, and whispering endearing words in her ear, Milena opened +her eyes. Seeing Mara standing beside her, the sight of that woman +whom she loved, and whose son she doated on, slowly roused her to +life. Consciousness, little by little, crept back within her. When +she heard from the mother's lips that Uros was not dead, nay, that +there was hope of his recovery, she whispered: + +"If I could only see him once more, then I should be but too happy to +die." + +After this slight exertion she once more fainted, but she was soon +afterwards brought back again to life, and Mara then was able to make +her take the cordial the doctor had prepared for her. + +A few hours later, when the physician took his leave for the night, +prescribing to the women what they were to do, he and the midwife +warmly congratulated each other, not doubting that their skill had +snatched the young woman out of the jaws of death. + +After a night of pain and restlessness, Milena, early on the next +morning, exhausted as she was, fell into a quiet, death-like sleep. +Mara then left her to return to the Convent of St. George to see if +Uros were still alive and how he was getting on. Milenko's mother +went with her. They had not been away long when Milena, shuddering, +uttered a loud cry of terror, sat up in her bed and looked straight +in front of her. + +"What is the matter?" said the midwife, running up to the bedside. + +"Don't you see him standing there?" cried the awe-stricken woman. + +"There is nobody, my dear; nobody at all." + +"Yes! Radonic, my husband, all covered with wounds! He is dying--he +is dead!" and Milena, appalled, stared wildly at the foot of the bed. + +"It is your imagination; your husband is with your father at +Cettinje." + +"No, no; I tell you he's there; help him, or he'll bleed to death!" +and the poor woman, exhausted, fell back on her bed unconscious. + +The midwife shuddered, for, although she saw nobody, she was quite +sure that the apparition seen by Milena was no fancy of an overheated +brain, but Radonic's ghost, that had come to visit his wife, for the +news of the _heyduk_'s death had been carefully withheld from Milena. + +The midwife went to the fount of holy water, took the blessed sprig +of olive which was over it, dipped it into the fount and sprinkled +the bed and the place where the ghost had stood, uttering all the +while the appropriate prayer for the purpose. Then she sprinkled +Milena, and made the sign of the Cross over her. After that she gave +her some drops of cordial, and little by little brought her back to +her senses, vowing all the while not to remain alone again in that +haunted house. + +When Milena recovered, "My husband is dead, is he not?" she asked. + +"But--no," said the midwife, hesitatingly. + +"You know he is. Did you not see him standing there? He had one wound +on the head and several in the breast." + +The elderly woman did not answer. + +"When did he die?" quoth Milena. + +"Some days ago; but----" + +"He was killed by the Turks, was he not?" + +"Yes." + +"Why did no one tell me?" + +"Because they were afraid to upset you." + +"He is dead," said Milena to herself, staring at the spot where she +had seen her husband, "dead!" Then she heaved a deep sigh of relief. + +The midwife tried to comfort her, but she did not seem to heed her +words. + +"My babe is dead, all are dead!" + +Presently the doctor came in to see how she was getting on. + +"Is Uros dead?" was Milena's first question. + +"No, he is still alive; a message came from the convent this +morning." + +"But is there any hope of recovery?" + +"If he has lasted on till to-day he may yet pull through; he is young +and healthy." + +"Can I get up to-day?" asked Milena, wistfully. + +"Get up?" asked the doctor, astonished. + +"Yes." + +"Did you hear her?" said the physician, turning towards the midwife. +"She asks if she can get up. Yes, you can get up if you wish to kill +yourself." + +A look of determination settled in the young woman's eyes; but +neither the doctor nor the midwife noticed it. + +"Anyhow, it is a good sign when the patient asks if he can get up, +except in consumption," added the physician, taking his leave. "If +you keep very quiet, and lie perfectly still, without tossing about +and fretting, you'll be able to get up in a few days." + +Milena pressed her lips, but did not say anything in reply; only, +after a little time: + +"Do I look very ill?" + +"No, not so very ill, either." + +"Give me that looking-glass," she added. + +The midwife hesitated. + +"Is that the way you are going to lie still and get well; you must +know that yesterday you were very ill." + +"I know; but please hand me the looking-glass." + +The midwife did as she was bid. Milena took up the glass and looked +at herself scrutinisingly, just like an actor who has made up his +face. + +"I am very much altered, am I not?" + +"Oh, but it'll be all over in one or two days! Wait till to-morrow, +and----" + +"But to-day I think people would hardly recognise me?" + +"Oh, it is not quite as bad as that! besides----" + +Milena opened her eyes questioningly, and looked at the midwife. + +"I care very little whether I am good-looking or not; whom have I to +live for now?" + +"Come, you must not give up in that way. You are but a child, and +have seen but little happiness up to now; you are rich, free, +handsome; you'll soon find a husband, only don't talk, take a cup of +this good broth, and try to go to sleep." + +"Very well, but I know you are busy, so go home and send me your +daughter; she can attend upon me; besides, _gospa_ Markovic will soon +be here." + +The midwife hesitated. + +"Go," said Milena; "I'll feel quieter if you go." + +"But you must promise me to keep very quiet, and not to attempt, on +any account, to get up." + +"Certainly," said Milena; "the doctor said I was not to rise; why +should I disobey him? Besides, where have I to go?" + +The midwife, after having tucked her patient carefully in bed and +made her as cosy as she could, went off, saying that her daughter +would soon come to her. + +Milena, with anxious eyes and a beating heart, watched the midwife, +and, at last, saw her go away and close the door after her. She +waited for some time to see that she did not return; then she +gathered up all her strength, and tried to rise. + +It was, however, a far more difficult task than she had expected, for +she fancied that she had fallen from the top of a high mountain into +a chasm beneath, and that every bone in her body had been broken to +splinters. If she had been crushed under horses' hoofs, she could not +have felt a greater soreness all over her body. Still, rise she +would, and she managed to crawl slowly out of her bed. + +Her legs, at first, could hardly hold her up; the nerves and muscles +had lost all their strength, she fancied the bones had got limp; her +back, especially, seemed to be gnawed by hungry dogs. + +Having managed to get over her first fit of faintness, she, holding +on to the bed and against the wall, succeeded in dragging herself +towards the table and dropped into a chair. + +She sat there for a while, making every effort to overcome her +faintness, but she felt so sick, so giddy, and in such pain, that her +head sank down on the table of its own weight, and she burst out +crying from sheer exhaustion. + +When she had somewhat recovered, she slowly undid her long tresses, +and her luxuriant hair fell in waves down to the ground. She shook +her head slightly, as if to disentangle the wavy mass, plunged her +fingers through the locks to separate them, and felt them lovingly, +uttering a deep sigh of regret as she did so; then after a moment's +pause, she shrugged her shoulders, took up a pair of scissors, and, +without more ado, she clipped the long tresses as close to her head +as she possibly could, carefully placing each one on the table as she +cut it off. Then she felt her head, which seemed so small, so cold, +and so naked; she took up a mirror with a trembling hand and +quivering lips pulled down at each corner. After she had seen her own +reflection in the glass, she burst into tears. She had hardly put +down the mirror, when Frana, the midwife's daughter, came in. + +The young girl, seeing Milena, whom she had expected to find in bed, +sitting on the chair with all her hair clipped off, remained rooted +to the spot where she was standing. + +"Milena, dear, is it you?" + +"Yes," replied Milena, mournfully. + +"But why did you get up? and why have you cut off your beautiful +hair?" asked the midwife's daughter, scared. + +"My hair burdened my head; I could not bear the weight any more; +besides----" + +The young girl looked at Milena, wondering whether she were in her +right senses, or if the grief of having lost her husband and her +child had not driven her to distraction. + +"Besides what, Milena?" + +"Well, I am not for long in this world, you know!" + +"Do not say such foolish things; and let me help you back to bed." + +Milena shook her head, and fixing her large and luminous deep blue +eyes on the young girl, she said, wistfully: + +"Listen, Frana. Uros is dying, perhaps he is dead! I must see him +once more. I must go to him, even if I have to die on the way +thither!" + +"What! go to the Convent of St. George?" + +Milena nodded assent. + +"But what are you thinking about? How can you, in your state, think +of going there?" + +"I must, even if I should have to crawl on all-fours!" + +"But if you got there, if I carried you there, they would never let +you go in; you know women----" + +"Yes, they will; that's why I've cut off my hair." + +"I don't understand." + +"I'll dress up as a boy; you'll come with me; you'll say I'm your +brother, and Uros' friend. You'll do that for me, Frana?" + +And Milena lifted up her pleading eyes, which now seemed larger than +ever and lighted up with an inward ethereal fire. + +The young girl seemed to be hypnotised by those entreating eyes. + +"But where will you find the clothes you want?" + +"If you can't get me your brother's, then borrow or buy a suit for +me; but go at once. You must get me a cap, and all that is required, +but go at once." + +"Very well; only, in the meantime, go to bed, take some broth, and +wait till I return." + +"But you promise to come back as quickly as you can?" + +"Yes, if you are determined to put your life in danger, and----" + +"And what?" + +"If you don't care what people say." + +"Frana, if ever you love a man as I love Uros, you will see that you +will care very little for your own life, and still less for what +people might say about you." + +Frana helped Milena to go to bed again. She made her take a cup of +broth, with the yolk of an egg beaten into it; placed, on a chair by +her bed, a bowl of mulled wine, which she was to take so as to get up +her strength; put away the long locks of hair lying on the table, and +at last she went off. + +Presently, Milenko's mother came to see Milena, and stayed with her +till Frana returned, and then she was persuaded to go back home. When +she had gone, Frana undid the bundle she had brought, took out a +jacket, a pair of wide breeches and leggings, the _opanke_; lastly, +the small black cap with its gold-embroidered crimson crown. + +Frana helped Milena to dress, and, in her weak state, the operation +almost exhausted her. The broad sash, tightly wound round her waist, +served to keep her up, and, leaning on Frana's arm, she left the +house. + +"I have managed to find a cart for you, so we need not cross the +town, but go round the walls, in order that you may not be seen; +besides, the cart will take us to the foot of the mountain, not far +from the convent." + +"How shall I ever be able to thank you enough for what you have done +for me, Frana?" + +"By getting over your illness as quickly as possible, for if any harm +should come of it my mother 'll never forgive me, and I don't blame +her." + +The sun was in the meridian when the cart arrived at the foot of the +mountain and the two friends alighted. As they climbed the rough and +uneven path leading up to the convent, Milena, though leaning on +Frana's strong arm, had more than once to stop and rest, for at every +step she made the pain in every joint, in every muscle, was most +acute. It seemed as if all the ligaments that bind the bones of the +skeleton together had snapped asunder, and that her body was about to +fall to pieces. Then she felt a smarting, a fire that was burning +within her bowels, and which increased at every effort she made; in +fact, had it not been for the young girl, she would either have sunk +by the roadside or crawled up--as she had said herself--on all-fours. + +Her head also was aching dreadfully, her temples were throbbing, and +she was parched with fever. Her limbs sank every now and then beneath +her weight; still, her love and her courage kept her up, and she +trudged along without uttering a word of complaint. At last they +reached the convent. Then her strength gave way. Anxiety, pain and +shame overpowered her, and she fell fainting on the threshold. Frana +summoned help; but, before the monks came, Milena had recovered, and +was sitting down on a bench to rest. + +In the meanwhile Uros was lingering on--a kind of death in life; the +vital flame was flickering, but not entirely extinguished; the ties +that fastened the soul to life were still strong. Towards midnight he +had sat up in his bed, and--as the monks thought--the Virgin and +Christ had appeared to him, then he had, for some time, not given any +further signs of consciousness. Nay, the monks were so sure the +sufferer was passing away, that they, in fact, began reciting the +prayers for the dying. They did so with much fervour, regarding Uros +almost as a saint, for never had mortal man been so highly favoured +by the Deity. Little by little, however, life, instead of ebbing +away, seemed to return; but the sufferer's mind was quite lost. + +In the morning, first his father had come, together with his friend +Janko, and a little while afterwards Mara came. + +The monks related to the wondering parents how the Virgin had +appeared, bringing with her the infant Christ for him to kiss. +Milenko, however, kept his peace, feeling sure that if he expressed +an opinion as to the weird apparition, his words would be regarded as +blasphemy. + +Coming to himself, Uros recognised his parents, and as Mara bent upon +him to kiss his brows: + +"Milena," whispered Uros, almost inaudibly. + +"Milenko," said the mother, "he wants you." + +"No," said Milenko, softly to Mara, "it is not me he wants; he has +been calling for Milena since he has been coming back to life. I am +sure that her presence would quiet him, and, who knows? perhaps add +to his recovery." + +The poor mother said nothing; she only patted her boy's brown hand, +which seemed to have got whiter and thinner in this short space of +time. + +"I think it is so hard to refuse him a thing upon which he has set +his heart," said Milenko, pleadingly. + +Mara still gave no answer. + +"Perhaps I am wrong in mentioning it--but you do not know how dearly +he loved this cousin of his." + +Mara's eyes filled with tears. + +"Could these priests not be persuaded to let her come in just for a +moment?" + +"Milena is too ill to come here; in fact----" + +"Is she dead?" asked the young man. + +"No, not dead, but as ill as Uros himself is." + +"What is the matter with her?" asked Milenko. + +Mara whispered something in the young man's ear. + +Danilo Kvekvic had left the sufferer to attend to his own duties. All +the monks of the convent had, one by one, come to recite an orison by +the bedside, as at some miraculous shrine; then Uros was left to the +care of his parents; even the old monk, after administering to the +young man's wants, had gone to take some rest. + +For some time the room was perfectly quiet; Mara and Milenko were +whispering together in subdued tones; the _pobratim_'s fathers stood +outside. + +After a little while Uros began to be delirious, and to speak about +Radonic and Vranic, who were going to kill Milena. + +"There, you see, she is dying; let me go to her. Why do you hold me +here? Unhand me; you see she is alone--no one to attend upon her." +(The remainder of his words were unintelligible.) + +The tears rolled down Mara's cheeks, for she thought that her son's +words were but too true; at that moment Milena was probably dying. + +"She came to me for help, and I----" + +"Milenko," added the delirious man, "get the ship ready; let us take +her away." + +"Yes," said Milenko; "we have only to heave the anchor and be off." + +Uros thereupon made an effort to get up, but the pain caused by his +wound was so great that he fell fainting on his bed with a deep moan. + +The two men standing at the door came to the sufferer's bedside. Mara +herself bent over him to assist him. Just then Milenko was called +out--someone was asking for him. + +The fever-fit had subsided. The sufferer, falling back on his pillow, +exhausted, seemed to be slowly breathing his last. + +The tears were falling fast from Mara's eyes. The two men by the bed +were twisting their bristling moustaches, looking helplessly forlorn. +Just then Milenko appeared on the threshold, followed by a wan and +corpse-like boy. Bellacic frowned at the intruder. Mara, at the +sight, started back, opening her eyes widely. + +"You?" said she. + +Milena's head drooped down. Milenko put his arm round her waist to +keep her up. + +"You here, my child?" added Mara, opening her arms and clasping the +young woman within them. + +Milena began to sob in a low voice. + +"The blessed Virgin must have given you supernatural strength, my +poor child; still, you have been killing yourself." + +Milena did not utter a word. She pressed Mara's hand convulsively; +her face twitched nervously as she looked upon her lover lying +lifelessly on his bed; then (Mara having made way for her) the +exhausted woman sank down upon her chair. + +"I told you," said the old monk, coming in, "that in your weak, +exhausted state it was not right for you to see your friend, but +nowadays," added he, in a grumbling tone, "young people are so +headstrong that they will never do what is required of them for their +own good. Now that you have seen him, I hope that you are satisfied +and will come out." + +"Just let me stay a little longer, till he comes to himself again, +only a very few minutes," said Milena, imploringly, and clasping her +hands in supplication. + +"Please let him stay; Uros 'll be so glad to see him when he opens +his eyes. He'll keep very quiet till then." + +"Be it so," said the monk; "only the room is getting too crowded. The +best cure for a sick man is sympathy and fresh air." + +"You are right," said Milenko, "but I give up my place to him; +besides, I have some business in town." + +As Bellacic accompanied the _pobratim_ out-- + +"Where are you going?" said he. + +"To find out Vranic, and settle accounts with him." + +"No, no! Wait!" said the father. + +"Wait! for what?" + +"Let us not think of vengeance as long as Uros lives." + +Milenko did not seem persuaded; Bellacic insisted: + +"Don't let us provoke the wrath of the Almighty by more bloodshed." + +As they were thus discussing the matter, the doctor from Budua +arrived, having been sent by Danilo Kvekvic at the request of the +monks. + +The old practitioner, the same one who had attended Milena, looked at +Uros, shook his head gravely, as if he would say: "There is no hope +whatever;" then he touched the sufferer's pulse and examined his +wound. He approved of the treatment he had received, and then, after +a few moments' brown study, and after taking a huge pinch of snuff, as +if to clear his head, he said, slowly, that all human effort was +vain; the young man could not last more than a few hours--till +eventide, or, at the longest, during the night. + +"Umph!" grunted the old man, shrugging his shoulders; "he is in the +hands of God." + +"Of course, of course. We are all in the hands of God." + +"I thought," added the caloyer, "he would not pass yesterday night, +especially after the Most Blessed appeared to him, holding her Infant +in her arms." + +"What!" said the doctor; "you mean to say that the Virgin appeared to +him?" + +"Of course, and I was not the only one who saw her, for, besides, +Blagoslav, Danko Kvekvic, and this young man"--pointing to Milenko +--"were also in the room." + +"Then God may perform another miracle in his favour," said the +doctor, incredulously, "for he is beyond all earthly skill." + +Uros, in fact, was sinking fast, and, although the old man clung to +hope, still the doctor's words seemed but too true. After some time +the sufferer seemed to give signs of consciousness, and when Milena +placed her thin white hand on his forehead, he felt the slight +pressure of her fingers, and, with his eyes closed, said: + +"Milena, are _you_ here?" and a faint smile played over his lips. + +"Yes, my love," whispered Milena, "I am here." + +Uros opened his eyes, looked at her, and seemed bewildered at the +change which had come over her; still, he said nothing for a while, +but was evidently lost in thought, after which he added: + +"Milena, have you been here all night?" + +"No, I only came here just now." + +"You look ill--very ill; I thought you were dying." + +Milena kissed his hand, bathing it with tears. Uros once more sank +down on his bed exhausted; still, after a few moments' rest, he again +opened his eyes and looked round for his father. Bellacic understood +the mute appeal, and bent down over him. + +"Father," said he, "I don't think I am in this world for a long time. +I feel that all my strength is gone; but before----" + +The father bent low over his son. + +"Before what?" he asked. + +"Before dying----" + +"Well, my son?" + +"Will you promise, father?" + +"Yes, I promise; but what is it you want, my darling?" + +"To be married to Milena," he said, with an effort. + +The tears trickled down the elderly man's sunburnt cheeks. + +"I promise to do my utmost," said he. + +He at once turned round and explained the whole affair to his wife. +Milena, who seemed to have guessed Uros' request, had hid her face in +her hands and was sobbing. Thereupon Bellacic left the room and went +to find the old monk, who had gone out with the doctor. Taking him +aside, he explained the matter to him. + +"What!" said the old monk, "bring another woman into the convent, and +a young woman besides?" + +"Oh, there is no need to bring her in!" + +"What do you mean?" + +"She is already in," replied Bellacic, unable to refrain from +smiling. + +"How did she come in? When did she come in? And with whom did she +come in?" asked the caloyer, angrily. + +"She came in just before the doctor; you yourself accompanied her." + +The old man stared at Bellacic. + +"She is the one who came in dressed in boy's clothes; the midwife's +daughter accompanied her as far as the----" + +"What! do you mean to say that there are three women, and that one of +them is a midwife?" quoth the monk, shocked. + +Bellacic explained matters. The caloyer consented that Danilo Kvekvic +should be sent for to perform the wedding rites _in extremis_, +provided Milena left the convent together with Mara that very +evening, and did not return again on the morrow. Bellacic, moreover, +having promised to give the church a fine painting, representing the +Virgin Mary as she had appeared to Uros the evening before, the whole +affair was settled to everyone's perfect satisfaction. + +Mara, who had taken Milena into the adjoining room, said to her: + +"Uros has made his father a strange request, and Bellacic has +consented; for who can gainsay a dying man's wish?" + +"I know," said Milena, whose lips were twitching nervously. + +"He wishes to be married to you." + +Milena fell into Mara's arms and began to sob. + +"But," said Milena, "I am so frightened." + +"Frightened of what?" + +"My husband." + +Mara, bewildered for a moment, remembered that Milena had never been +told of Radonic's death. + +"I know," continued the young woman, "that he was killed, for he +appeared to me only a few hours ago; and I am so frightened lest he +should be recalled again and scare Uros to death." + +"Oh! if incense is burning the whole time, if many blessed candles +are lighted, and the whole room sprinkled with holy water, the ghost +will never be able to show itself in such a place; besides, my dear, +you know that you were almost delirious, so that the ghost you saw +must have only been your fancy." + +"Still, I did not know that he was dead, and I saw him all covered +with wounds, and as plainly as I see you now; he looked at me so +fiercely----" + +Milena shuddered; her features grew distorted at the remembrance of +the terrible apparition, and, in her weak state, the little strength +left in her forsook her, and she fell fainting into Mara's arms. + +It was with great difficulty that she was brought back to life, and +then she consented to the marriage. + +A messenger was sent to Budua to ask Danilo Kvekvic to come and +officiate, and the midwife's daughter went with him to bring Milena a +dress, as it would have almost been a sacrilege for her to get +married in a boy's clothes. + +Danilo Kvekvic came at once; the young girl brought the clothes and +the wreaths, and everything being ready, the lugubrious marriage +service was performed; still, it was to be gone through once more, +when Uros should have recovered, if he ever did recover. The monks +crowded at the door, looking on wonderingly at the whole affair, for +in their quiet, humdrum life, such a ceremony was an unheard of +thing, and an event affording them endless gossip. + +The emotion Uros had undergone weakened him in such a way that he +fell back fainting. His pulse grew so feeble that it could not be +felt any more; his breathing had evidently stopped, a cold +perspiration gathered on his brow; his features acquired not only the +rigidity, but also the pinched look and livid tint of death. + +"I am afraid that it is the beginning of the end." + +He began once more reciting the prayers for the dying. Danilo Kvekvic +sprinkled him with holy water. All the rest sank on their knees by +the bed. A convulsive sob was heard. Milenko, unable to bear the +scene any longer, rushed out of the room. + +Whilst he was sobbing, and the friars outside were trying to comfort +him, the old monk came out. + +"Well, father?" said the young man, with a terror-stricken face. + +"It is all over," said the old man, shaking his head gravely. + +Milenko uttered a deep groan; then he sank on his knees, kissing the +monk's hand devoutly. + +"Thank you, father, for all that you have done for my brother. If +earthly skill could have recalled him to life, yours would have done +so. Thank you for your kindness to me and to all of us. Now my task +begins; nor do I rest until it is accomplished." + +Unable to keep back the tears that were blinding him, nor the sobs +rising to his throat, he rose and ran out of the convent. + +Arriving at Budua, he went everywhere seeking for Vranic; but he +could not find him anywhere. Nothing positive was known about him; +only, it was said that three children had seen him, or someone +looking like him, outside the city walls. Later on, a young sailor +related that he had rowed a man answering to Vranic's description on +board of a ship bound for the coasts of Italy. The ship, a few hours +afterwards, had sailed off. + +Weary and disheartened, Milenko went home, where he found his father +and mother, who had come back from the convent. + +"Well," said the father, "have you heard anything about Vranic?" + +"He has fled; my vengeance has, therefore, to be postponed. It might +take weeks instead of days to accomplish it; months instead of weeks, +and even years instead of months. But I shall not rest before Vranic +pays with his own blood for his evil deed," said Milenko. + +"You would not be a Slav, nor my son, if you did not act in this way. +Uros had certainly done as much for you." + +"And now," added Milenko, "as I might be called away from this world +before accomplishing this great deed of justice, we must gather, +to-night, such of our friends and relations as will take with us the +terrible oath of blood, the _karva tajstvo_." + +"Be it so," said Janko Markovic. "I, of course, will take the oath +with you, my son, and will help you to the utmost of my power." + +Milenko shook his father's hand, and added: "Danilo Kvekvic will be +the officiating priest. He, being a relation, will not refuse, will +he?" + +"No, certainly not. He may, of course, demur, but by his innuendoes +he led me to understand that he will be waiting for you." + +"He is a real Iugo Slav." + +Milenko and his father busied themselves at once about the great +ceremony. They went to all the relations and friends of the two +families, begging them, now that Uros was dead, to join with them in +taking the oath of revenge against Vranic, the murderer. + +Not a man that was asked refused. All shook hands, and promised to be +at Markovic's house that night, and from there accompany him to the +priest's. + +Night came on. Milenko's mother had gone to sit up with Mara and +Milena; Bellacic had remained to pray at his son's bedside, together +with the good monks. One by one the friends and relations of the +_pobratim_, muffled up like conspirators, knocked at Markovic's door, +and were stealthily allowed to enter. _Slivovitz_ and tobacco were at +once placed before the guests. When they were all gathered together, +and the town was asleep, they crept out quietly and wended their way +through the deserted streets to the priest's house. + +Milenko tapped at the door. + +"They are all asleep at this house," said one of the men; "you must +knock louder." + +Hardly had these words been uttered than a faint ray of light was +seen, and, contrary to their expectations, the door was opened by +Danilo himself. + +"Milenko! You, at this hour of the night? I thought you were at the +convent, reciting prayers over my nephew, your _pobratim_." + +"A _pobratim_ has other duties than praying--the holy monks can do +that even better than myself." + +"But I am keeping you standing at the door; what can I do for you?" + +"We have a request to make, which you will not be surprised at. You +must follow us to church." + +"To church, at this hour of the night?" + +"Yes. We wish--one and all here present--to take the oath of blood +against the murderer." + +"But, my children, think of what you are asking of me. Our religion +commands us to forgive our enemies. Christ----" + +"We are Slavs, Danilo Kvekvic," said one of the men. + +"But Christians, withal, I hope?" + +"Still, vengeance with us is a duty, a sacred duty." + +"I am the _pobratim_," quoth Milenko, "the brother of his choice. Did +I not swear before you to avenge any injury done to Uros, your +nephew? Do you wish me to forget my oath--to perjure myself?" + +"Mind, it is the priest, not the uncle, who speaks," said Danilo, +sternly; "therefore, remember that the _karva tajstvo_ is illegal by +the laws of our country." + +"By the laws of Austria," cried out several of the men, "not by the +laws of our country. We are Slavs, not Austrians." + +"Come, Danilo, we are men, not children; trifling is useless, words +are but lost breath in this matter," said Janko Markovic. "We are +losing time." + +"If you do not follow us with a good will----" + +"I see that you mean to carry out your intentions, and that preaching +is useless; therefore, I am ready to follow you." + +Saying this, he put his cap on his head, and opened the door. + +"And the key?" asked Milenko. + +"What key?" + +"The key of the church." + +"Why, I happen to have it in my pocket." + +The church being opened, what was their surprise to see it draped in +black; but Danilo Kvekvic explained that there had been a funeral +service on that very day, and so the church had remained in its +mourning weeds. + +Thereupon he shut and locked the doors. Some tapers were lighted on +the altar, and the priest, putting on his robes, began to read the +service. + +The few candles shed but a glimmering light in the sacred edifice, +and the small congregation, kneeling on the benches by the altar, +were wrapt in a gloomy darkness which added a horror to the mystery +of the ceremony. + +The service for the dead having been read, Kvekvic knelt and partook +of the Holy Communion; then, lighting two other tapers, he called the +congregation to him. All gathered at the foot of the altar, and knelt +down there. He then took up the chalice, where, according to the +Orthodox rites of the Communion, bread and wine were kneaded +together. Milenko, as the head of the avengers, went up to the altar, +and, bowing before the sacred cup containing the flesh and blood of +Jesus Christ, he made a slight cut in the forefinger of his left +hand, and then caused a few drops of his own blood to fall on the +Eucharist. He was followed by his father, and by all the other +partakers of the oath. When the last man had offered up a few drops +of blood, the priest mixed it up with the consecrated bread and wine +already in the cup. + +"Now," said he, with an inspired voice, "lift up your hands to +heaven, and repeat after me the following oath." + +All the men lifted up their hands, each one holding a piece of Uros' +blood-stained shirt, and then the priest began: + +"By this blessed bread representing the flesh of our Lord Jesus +Christ, by the wine that is His own blood, by the blood flowing from +our own bodies, for the sake of our beloved Uros Bellacic, heinously +murdered, and now sitting amongst the martyrs in heaven, and from +there addressing us his prayers, I, Milenko Markovic, his _pobratim_; +I, Janko Markovic, his father of adoption; I, Marko Lillic, his +cousin" (and so on), "all related or connected to him by the ties of +blood, or of affection, solemnly swear, in the most absolute and +irrevocable manner, not to give our souls any peace, or any rest to +our bodies, until the wishes of the blessed martyr be accomplished by +taking a severe revenge upon his murderer, Josko Vranic, of this +town, on his children (if ever he has any), or, in default, on any of +his relations, friends and acquaintances who might shelter, protect, +or withhold him from our wrath; and never to cease in our intention, +or flag in our pursuit, until we have obtained a complete and cruel +satisfaction, equal, at least, to this crime committed by this common +enemy of ours. We swear to God the Father, God the Son, and God the +Holy Ghost, that not one of us will ever try to evade the dangers his +oath may put him to, or will allow himself to be corrupted by gold or +bribes of the murderer or his family, or will listen with a pitiful +ear to the prayers, entreaties, or lamentations of the person or +persons destined to expiate the crime that has taken place; and, +though his kith-and-kin be innocent of the foul deed perpetrated by +their relation, Josko Vranic, we will turn a deaf ear to their words, +and only feel for them the horror that the deed committed awakes +within us. + +"We swear, moreover, by the blessed Virgin and by all the saints in +heaven, that should any of us here present forget the oath he has +taken, or break the solemn pact of blood, the others will feel +themselves bound to take revenge upon him, even as upon the murderer +of Uros Bellacic; and, moreover, the relations of the perjured man, +justly put to death, will not be able to exact the rites of the +_karvarina_." + +Thereupon, the men having taken the oath, the priest at the altar +sank down on his knees, and, uplifting the chalice, continued as +follows: + +"We pray Thee, omnipotent God, to listen to our oaths, and, moreover, +to help us in fulfilling them. We entreat Thee to punish the murderer +in his own person, and in that of his sons for seven successive +generations; to persecute them with Thy malediction, just as if they +themselves had committed the murder. We solemnly declare that we will +not consider Thee, O Lord, as just; Thee, O Lord, as saintly; Thee, O +Lord, as strong; nor shall we regard Thee, O Lord, as capable of +governing the world, if Thou dost not lend a listening ear to the +eager wishes of our hearts; for our souls are tormented with the +thirst for revenge." + +When they had all finished this prayer, if it can be called a prayer, +they, one by one, went and partook of that loathsome communion of +blood with all the respect and devotion Christians usually have on +approaching the Lord's Table. After that Danilo Kvekvic knelt down +once more, and uplifting his hands in supplication: + +"O Lord, Protector of the oppressed," said he, "Thou punishest all +those who transgress Thy wise laws and offend Thee, for Thou art a +jealous God. Help these parishioners of mine to fulfil an act of +terrestrial justice. Punish, with all Thy wrath, the perpetrator of +so abominable a crime; let him have no rest in this world, and let +his soul burn for ever in hell after his death; scatter his ashes to +the winds, and obliterate the very memory of his existence. Amen." + +"Amen," repeated every man after him. + +Thereupon he blessed them all; and coming down from the altar he +shook hands with each one, no more as a priest, but as a relation of +the murdered youth, and thanked them for the oath they had taken. + +The candles having been put out, the door of the church was +stealthily opened, and, one by one, all the men crept out and +vanished in the darkness of the night. + + + + +CHAPTER XX + +"SPERA IN DIO" + + +After the ceremony of the _karva tajstvo_, all the men who had taken +part in it met together at Janko Markovic's house, so as to come to a +decision as to what they were to do in their endeavours to capture +the murderer. All the information that had been got in Budua about +Vranic helped to show that he had embarked on board of an Italian +ship, the _Diana_, which had sailed the evening of the murder. If +this were the case, nothing could be done for the present but wait +patiently till they could come across him, the communications between +Budua and Naples being few and far between. + +"Well," said Milenko, "I'll sail at dawn for Trieste. It is one of +the best places where I can get some information about this ship. +Moreover, I'll do my best to get a cargo for one of the ports to +which she might be destined, and I must really be very unlucky not to +come across him before the year is out." + +"And," replied Janko Markovic, "if our information is wrong--if, +after all, he's still lurking in this neighbourhood, or hiding +somewhere in Montenegro, we shall soon get at him." + +"We have taken the oath," replied all the friends. + +"Thank you. I'm sure that Uros' death will very soon be avenged." + +_Slivovitz_ and wine were then brought out to drink to the success of +the _karva tajstvo_. + +At the first glimmer of dawn, Milenko bade his mother farewell and +asked her to kiss Mara and Milena for him; then, receiving his +father's blessing, and accompanied by all his friends, he left home +and went to the ship. + +All the cargo had been taken on board several days before, the papers +were in due order, and the ship was now ready to start at a moment's +notice. + +No sooner had Milenko got on board than the sleeping crew was roused, +the sails were stretched, the anchor was heaved, and the ship began +to glide on the smooth surface of the waters. + +"_Srecno hodi_" (a pleasant voyage), shouted the friends, applauding +on the pier. + +"_Z' Bogam_" (God be with you), replied Milenko. + +"_Zivio!_" answered the friends. + +The young captain saw the houses of Budua disappear, with a sigh. A +heaviness came over him as his eyes rested on a white speck gleaming +amidst the surrounding dark rocks. It was the Convent of St. George, +where, in his mind's eye, he could see his dearly beloved Uros lying +still and lifeless on his narrow bed. + +Then a deep feeling of regret came over him. Why had he rushed away, +when his friend had scarcely uttered his last breath? He might have +waited a day or two; Vranic would not escape him at the end. + +Never before--not even the first time he had left home--had he felt +so sad in quitting Budua. He almost fancied now his heart was reft in +two, and that the better part had remained behind with his friend. +Not even the thought of Ivanka, whom he so dearly loved, could +comfort him. A sailor's life--which had hitherto had such a charm for +him while his friend was on board the same ship with him--now lost +all its attraction, and if he had not been prompted by his craving +for revenge, he would have taken the ship to Trieste (where she was +bound to), and there, having sold his share, he would have gone back +to Budua. + +The days seemed endless to him. The crew of the ship, although +composed of Dalmatians, was almost of an alien race; they were from +the island of Lussin, and Roman Catholics besides--in fact, quite +different people from the inhabitants of Budua or the Kotor; and, had +it not been for a youth whom he had embarked with him from his native +town, he would have scarcely spoken to anyone the whole of the +voyage, except, of course, to give the necessary orders. + +No life, indeed, is lonelier than that of a captain having no mate, +boatswain or second officer with him. Fortunately, however, for +Milenko, Peric--the youth he had taken with him to teach him +navigation--was a rather intelligent lad, and, as it was the first +time he had left home, he was somewhat homesick, so, in their moments +of despondency, each one tried to cheer and comfort the other. + +In the night--keeping watch on deck--he would often, as in his +childhood, lean over the side of the ship and look within the fast +flowing waters. When the sea was as smooth and as dark as a metal +mirror, he--after gazing in it for some time--usually saw the water +get hazy and whitish; then, little by little, strange sights appear +and disappear. Some of them were prophetic visions. Once, he saw +within the waters a frigate on fire. It was, indeed, a sight worth +seeing. The vision repeated itself three times. Milenko, feeling +rather anxious, began to look around, and then he saw a faint light +far on the open sea. There was no land or island there. Could that +light, he asked himself, be that of a ship on fire? He at once gave +orders to steer in the direction of the light. As the distance +diminished, the brightness grew apace. The flames, that could now be +seen rising up in the sky, made the men believe that it was some new +submarine volcano. Milenko, however, felt that his vision had been +prophetic. + +He added more sails; and, as the breeze was favourable, the _Spera in +Dio_ flew swiftly on the waters. Soon he could not only see the +flames, but the hulk of the ship, which looked like a burning island; +moreover, the cargo must have been either oil or resin, for the sea +itself seemed on fire. + +In the glare the conflagration shed all around, Milenko perceived a +small boat struggling hard to keep afloat, for it was so over-crowded +that, at every stroke of the oars, it seemed about to sink. + +The joy of that shipwrecked crew, finding themselves safe on board +the _Spera in Dio_, was inexpressible. + +Another time he saw, within the sea, the country beyond the walls of +his native town. A boy of about ten was leading an old horse in the +fields. After some time, the boy seemed to look for some stump on +which to tether the horse he had led to pasture; but, finding none, +he tied the rope round his own ankle and lay down to sleep. Suddenly, +the old horse--frightened at something--began to run, the boy awoke +and tried to rise, but he stumbled and fell. His screams evidently +frightened the old horse, which ran faster and ever faster, dragging +the poor boy through the bushes and briars, dashing him against the +stones of the roadside. When, at last, the horse was stopped, the boy +was only a bruised and bleeding mass. + +"Oh," said Milenko to Peric, "I have had such a horrible vision!" + +"I hope it is not about my little brother," replied the youth. + +"Why?" + +"I really don't know; but all at once the idea came into my head that +the poor boy must have died." + +"Strange!" quoth Milenko, as he walked away, not to be questioned as +to his vision. + +One evening, when the moon had gone below the horizon looking like a +reaping-hook steeped in blood, and nothing could be seen all around +but the broad expanse of the dark waters, reflecting the tiny stars +twinkling in the sky above, Milenko saw, all at once, the white walls +of St. George's Convent. The doors, usually shut, were now opened. +Uros appeared on the threshold. There he received the blessing of the +old monk who had tended him during his illness, and whose hands he +now kissed with even more affection and thankfulness than devotion; +then, hugged and kissed by all the other caloyers, who had got to be +as fond of him as of a son or a brother, he bade them all farewell. +Then, leaning on Milena's arm, and followed by his father and mother, +he wended his way down the mountain and towards the town. Uros was +still thin and pale, but all traces of suffering had disappeared from +his face. Though he and Milena were man and wife--having been married +_in extremis_--still they were lovers, and his weakness was a +plausible pretext to lean lovingly on her arm, and stop every now and +then to look lovingly within her lustrous eyes, and thus give vent to +the passion that lay heavy on his heart; and once, when his parents +had disappeared behind a corner, he stopped, put his arm round her +waist, then their lips met in a long, silent kiss, which brought the +blood up to their cheeks. Then the picture faded, and the waters were +again as black as night; only, his ears whistled, and he almost +fancied he could hear Uros' voice in a distance speaking of him. + +Of course, Milenko knew that all this was but a delusion, a dream, a +hallucination of his fancy, and he tried to think of his friend lying +stiff and stark within his coffin; still, his imagination was unruly, +and showed him Uros at home alive and happy. + +These visions about his friend were all the same; thus, nearly three +weeks after he had left Budua, one evening, when sad and gloomy, he +was thinking of Uros' funeral, to which he now regretted not to have +remained and assisted, he saw, within the depths of the dark blue +sea, Bellacic's house adorned as for a great festivity. Not only was +a banquet prepared; _guzlars_ played on their instruments, and guests +arrived in holiday attire, but Uros, who had almost regained his +former good looks, was, in his dress of the Kotor, as handsome as a +_Macic_. Milena, as beautiful as when, in bridal attire, she had come +from Montenegro, was standing by his side. Soon Danilo Kvekvic came, +wearing a rich stole. The guests lighted the tapers they were +holding; wreaths were placed on Milena's and Uros' heads. This was +the wedding ceremony that would have taken place had Uros recovered +from his wound, and of which Milenko had certainly not been thinking. + +Milenko at last reached Trieste, where he found a letter waiting for +him. The news it contained would have made his heart beat rapidly +with joy had Uros only been with him. Now, reading this letter, he +only heaved a deep sigh. It was almost a sigh of forlorn hope. Fate +but too often, whilst granting us a most coveted boon, seems to feel +a malicious pleasure either in disappointing us entirely, or, at +least, in blunting the edge of our joy. This letter was from +Giulianic, who, having redeemed his pledge from his friend Bellacic, +was now but too glad to have him for his son-in-law. Moreover, he +urged him to come over to Nona. + +Nothing, indeed, prevented Milenko from consigning the ship to the +captain, who was waiting for him at Trieste, and selling his share of +the brig. Still, he could not think of doing so, or engaging himself, +or settling any time for his marriage before Uros' death had been +avenged. He, therefore, wrote at once to Giulianic, thanking him for +his kindness to him, stating, nevertheless, the reasons which obliged +him to postpone his marriage until the vows of the _karvarina_ had +been fulfilled. + +At Trieste, Milenko found out that the _Diana_, the ship on which +Vranic was embarked, was a Genoese brig, usually sailing to and from +the Adriatic and the Levant ports; occasionally, she would come as +far as Trieste or Venice, usually laden with boxes of oranges and +lemons, and sail back with a cargo of timber. It would have been easy +enough to have him apprehended by one of the Austrian consuls in the +ports where the _Diana_ might be bound to, but the vengeance of the +_karva tajstvo_ is not done by deputy nor confided to the police. + +At the shipbroker's to which the _Spera in Dio_ was consigned, +Milenko also found a letter from the captain, his partner in the +ship, saying that, far from coming to take charge of the ship, he was +inclined to sell his share; and Milenko, who was very anxious to be +free and to sail for those ports where he might easier come across +the _Diana_, bought the other half, and soon afterwards, having +managed to get a cargo of timber for Pozzuoli, he set sail without +delay, hoping to be in time to catch Vranic in Naples. + +Not far from the rocky island of Melada, which the Dalmatians say is +the Melita of the Scriptures, the _Spera in Dio_ met with very stormy +weather and baffling winds. Thereabouts one rough and cloudy night, +when not only Milenko but almost all the men were on deck, they all +at once saw a ship looming in the darkness at a short distance from +them. The captain had either forgotten to hoist a light, or else had +let it go out. When they perceived that dark shadow, only a little +darker than the surrounding night, they did their utmost to steer out +of her way. The other ship likewise seemed to try and tack about, but +driven as she was by a strong head-wind, it was quite impossible to +make her change her direction and avoid a collision. + +A few moments after the dark phantom was seen a loud crash was heard; +it was the groan of a monster falling with a thud upon his adversary, +felling him with his ponderous mass. The unknown ship had +unexpectedly come and butted against the _Spera in Dio_ amidships, +like a huge battering-ram, breaking the beams, shivering the planks, +cutting the harmless ship nearly in two, and allowing the waters to +pour in through the huge cleft. + +Some of the sailors managed to climb up the other ship; most of the +crew clung to the timber with which the ship was laden. Milenko +remained on the sinking wreck until dawn. + +The other ship--an Italian schooner--cruised about, and tried to +remain as much as she possibly could on the same spot, till early in +the morning, so as to pick up all the men of the wreck. Three of the +crew, however, must have been washed away, for they were not seen +anywhere, or ever afterwards heard of. + +The schooner, that had been also considerably damaged, sailed to +Trieste as well as she could. Fortunately for Milenko, the _Spera in +Dio_ had been insured for more than her value, and happening to find +another ship for sale, the _Giustizia di Dio_, he bought it, and, on +the whole, made a very good bargain. He soon got another cargo for +Naples, and, a month after his return, he once more sailed in search +of Vranic. + + + + +CHAPTER XXI + +FLIGHT + + +Vranic, having stabbed Uros, remained for a moment rooted to the spot +where he stood. When he saw the red blood gush out of the wound and +dye the white shirt, he stared at the young man bewildered; he could +hardly understand what he had done. A strange feeling came over him. +He almost fancied he was awaking from a horrid dream, and that he was +witnessing a deed done, not by himself, but by some person quite +unknown to him. When he saw Uros put his hand up to the wound, then +stagger, he was about to help him; but Milenko having appeared, he +shuddered, came to his senses and ran off. + +Vranic had always been cursed with a morbidly discontented +disposition, as peevish and as fretful as a porcupine. Although he +was superstitiously religious, and strictly kept all feasts and +fasts, still, at the same time, he felt a grudge--almost a hatred +--against God, who had made him so unlike other men; who, far from +granting him the boon of health to which he felt he had a right, had +stamped him with an indelible sign so that all might keep aloof from +him. He envied all the men he knew, for they laughed and were merry, +when he himself was as gloomy as a lonely spider in its dusty old +web. Still, as he vented the little energy that was in him in secret +rancour, he would never have harmed anybody. He had, it was true, cut +down Bellacic's vines, but had done so instigated by his friends, or +rather, by Bellacic's enemies. If he had stabbed Uros, it was really +done in a moment of madness, driven almost to despair by many +sleepless nights, by the shame and pain caused by the loss of his +ear. + +Having done that dreadful deed, he understood that the Convent of St. +George was no shelter for him. Besides, seeing Uros fall lifeless, +his first impulse was flight. It mattered little whither he went. It +was only after a short time when, breathless and faint, he stumbled +against a stone and fell, that the thought of finding some +hiding-place came into his head. + +He lurked amongst the rocks the whole of that day, terrified at the +slightest noise he heard, trembling with fear if a bird flew beside +him, startled at his own shadow. At times he almost fancied the +stones had eyes and were looking at him, and that weird, uncouth +shapes moved in the bushes below. + +He was not hungry, but his lips were parched, his mouth felt clammy +with thirst; still, there was not a drop of water to be had, nothing +but the hot sun from the sky above, and the glow of the scorching +stones from below. + +Then he asked himself again and again what he was to do and where he +was to go. + +Fear evoked a terrible bugbear in every imaginary path he took. If he +went back to Budua he would be murdered by his foes or arrested by +the Austrian police; Montenegro was out of the question. + +He had, by chance, seen during the day an Italian vessel ready to +sail. The ship was still at anchor in the bay, for he could see it +from his hiding-place. If he could only manage to get on board he +might be safe there. Once out of Budua, he cared but little +whithersoever chance sent him. + +The best thing he could do was to wait till nightfall, then to creep +stealthily into town. It was not likely that the murder was known to +everybody; if he could only get unseen to the _marina_ without +crossing the town, he then might get some boatman to row him to the +Italian ship. + +The day seemed to be an endless one, and even when the sun had set, +the red light of the after-glow struggled to keep night away. + +At last, when the shades of night fell upon the country, he began to +scramble down, avoiding the path and the high road, shuddering +whenever he caught the sound of a footstep, feeling sick if a +rustling leaf was blown down against him. At last he reached the +gates of the town, but instead of going in, he followed the walls, +and thus managed to get to the port. + +It was now quite dark; some fishermen were setting out for the night, +others were coming back home, laden with their prey. He kept aloof +from them all. + +After some time, he found a sailor lad sleeping in his boat. He shook +him and woke him, then he asked him to row him to the Italian ship +that was about to sail. + +The boy at first demurred, but the sight of a small silver coin +overcame all his drowsiness as well as his objections. He consented +to ferry him across. + +"Do you know what boat she is?" asked Vranic. + +"Yes." + +"Well?" + +"If you are going to her, I suppose you know her name, too." + +"Can't you answer a question?" said Vranic, snappishly. + +"She's the _Diana_." + +"From?" + +"Genoa, I believe." + +"And bound?" + +"To Naples; but Italian ships don't take Slavs on board," said the +lad. + +Vranic did not give him any answer. + +"Are you a sailor?" asked the boy, after a while. + +"No. I--I have some business in Italy." + +As soon as they were alongside the ship, Vranic called for the +captain. + +The master, who was having his supper on deck, asked him what he +wanted. + +"Are you bound for Naples?" + +"Yes." + +"Can you take me on board?" + +"As?" + +"As sailor? I'll work my way." + +"No. I have no need of sailors." + +"Then as a passenger?" + +"We are a cargo ship." + +"Still, if I make it worth your while?" + +"Our accommodation might not be such as would suit you." + +The captain suspected this man, who came to him in the midst of the +darkness asking for a passage, of having perpetrated some crime. He +felt sure that Budua was too hot a place for him, and that he was +anxious to get away. + +"I can put up with anything--a sack on deck." + +"Climb up," replied the captain. + +Vranic managed to catch the rope ladder, and, after much difficulty, +he climbed on board. + +The captain, seeing him and not liking his looks, felt confirmed in +his suspicions; therefore he asked him a rather large sum, at least +three times what he would have asked from anybody else. + +Vranic tried to haggle, but at last he paid the money down. The lad +with the boat disappeared; still, he only felt safe when--a few hours +afterwards--the anchor having been heaved, the sails spread, the ship +began to glide on the waters, and the dim lights of Budua disappeared +in the distance. + +The sea was calm, the breeze fair; the crossing of the Adriatic +seemed likely to be a prosperous one. + +A bed having been made up for him in the cabin, Vranic, weary and +worn out, lay down; and, notwithstanding all his torturing thoughts, +his mind, by degrees, became clouded and he went off to sleep. It is +true, he had hardly closed his eyes when he woke up again, thinking +of Uros as he had seen him when the blood was gushing out of his +wound; then a spectre even more dreadful to behold rose before his +eyes. It was the _voukoudlak_, from which he was escaping. Still, +bodily and mental fatigue overcame all remorse, and, feeling safe +from his enemies, he went off to sleep, and, notwithstanding a series +of dreadful dreams, he slept more soundly than he had done for many a +night. + +When he awoke the next morning, all trace of land had disappeared; +nothing was seen but the glittering waters of the blue sea and the +glowing sun overhead. He was safe; remorse had vanished with fear; he +only felt, not simply hungry, but famished. + +Everything went on well for two or three days. The smacking breeze +blew persistently. In a day more they hoped to reach Naples. The crew +had nothing to do but to mend old sails, to eat and sleep. They were +a merry set of men, as easily amused as children; besides, all of +them were wonderfully musical and possessed splendid voices. Gennaro, +the youngest, especially might have made a great fortune as a tenor. +In the evening they would sing all in a chorus, accompanying +themselves with a guitar, a mandoline and a triangle. + +Vranic, amongst them, was like an owl in an aviary of singing-birds; +besides, he knew but few words of Italian and could hardly understand +their dialect. Although his sleep was no more molested by vampires, +and he tried not to think of the crime he had committed, and almost +succeeded in driving away the visions that haunted him at times, +still he was anything but happy. Was he not an exile from his native +country, for, even if the Austrian law could be defeated, would not +the terrible _karvarina_ be exercised against him whenever he met one +of Bellacic's numerous friends? + +In this mood--wrapped in his gloomy thoughts--Vranic kept aloof from +every man on board. To the captain's questions he ever answered in +monosyllables; nor was he more talkative with the sailors. Once they +asked him to tell them a story of his country, and he complied. + +"Shall I tell you the story of the youth who was going to seek his +fortune?" + +"Yes; it must be a very interesting one." + +"Well--a youth was going to seek his fortune." + +"And then?" + +"The night before he was about to leave his village a storm destroyed +the bridge over which he had to pass." + +"Well--and then?" + +"He waited till they built another bridge." + +"But go on." + +"There is no going on, for the young man is waiting still," said he, +with a sneer. + +After two or three days, Vranic was looked upon by all on board as a +peevish, sullen fellow, and he was left to his own dreary +meditations. + +One of the sailors, besides, got it into his head that Vranic had the +gift of the evil eye, and it did not take very long to convince every +man on board of the truth of this assertion. Whenever he looked at +them, they invariably shut their two middle fingers, and pointed the +index and little finger at him, so as to counteract the effect of the +_jettatura_. The only man on board who did not fear Vranic was the +mate, for he possessed a charm far more potent than a crooked nail, a +horse-shoe, a bit of horned coral, or even a little silver +hump-backed man--this was a horse-chestnut, which he was once +fortunate enough to catch as it was falling from the tree, and before +it had touched the ground. He cherished it as a treasure, and kept it +constantly in his pocket. It was infallible against the evil eye, and +was powerful in many other circumstances. He was a most lucky man, +and, in fact, he felt sure he owed his good fortune to this talisman +of his. + +Although the weather was delightful, still the captain and the crew +could not help feeling a kind of premonition of evil to come; all +were afraid that, sooner or later, Vranic would bring them ill-luck. +At last the coasts of Italy were in sight, but with the far-off +coasts, a small cloud, a mere speck of vapour, was seen on the +horizon. It was but a tiny white flake, a soft, silvery spray, torn +from some shrub blossoming in an unknown Eden, and blown by the west +wind in the sky. It also looked like a patch worn by coquettish +Nature to enhance the diaphanous watchet-blue of the atmosphere. +Still, the sailors frowned at it, and called the feathery cloudlet +--scudding lazily about--a squall, and they were all glad to be in +sight of the land. The breeze freshened, the sea changed its colour, +the waves rolled heavily; their tops were crested with foam. Still, +the ship made gallantly for the neighbouring coast. + +The little cloud kept increasing in size; first it lengthened itself +in a wonderful way, like a snake spreading itself out; it also grew +of a darker, duller tint. Then it rolled itself together, piled +itself up, augmenting in volume, till it almost covered the whole of +the horizon. Finally, it began to droop downwards, tapering ever +lower, and losing itself in a mist. The sea underneath began to be +agitated, to boil and to bubble, seething with white foam; then a +dense smoke arose from the sea and mounted upwards as if to meet the +descending column of mist from the cloud just above it; both the +cloud and the upheaving waves moved with the greatest rapidity, and +seemed to be attracted by the ship, which endeavoured to tack about +and steer away from them. + +All at once, the water overhead met the ascending mist, and then a +sparkling, silvery cloud arose in the spout, just like quicksilver in +a glass tube. + +All the men were on deck, attending to the captain's directions; all +eyes were attracted by the weird, beautiful, yet terrifying sight. +The master, at the helm, did his best to avoid it, by changing the +ship's direction; still, the column of water advanced threateningly +in their course. It came nearer and ever nearer; now it was at a +gun-shot from the ship; if they had had a cannon on board, they might +have fired against it and dissolved it, but they had no firearms. The +atmosphere around them was getting dark with mist, the waterspout was +coming against them, and if that mass of water burst down on the ship +it would founder at once. + +What was to be done? + +"Leave the ship, and take to the boats," said some of the crew, but +it was already too late; they could not help being involved in the +cataclysm. + +Some of the men had sunk on their knees, and were asking the Virgin +or St. Nicholas of Bari to come to their help. + +"There is a remedy," said Vranic to the captain; "an infallible +remedy." + +"What is it?" asked the master, with the eagerness of a drowning man +clutching at a straw. + +"If a sailor amongst the crew happens to be the eldest of seven sons +he can at once dissolve that cursed column of water, the joint work +of the evil spirits of the air and those of the sea." + +"How so?" asked the captain. + +"Draw, at once, a pentagon, or five-pointed star, or King Solomon's +seal, on a piece of white paper, and let such a sailor, if he be on +board, stab it through the centre." + +The captain called all the men together, and asked if anyone amongst +them happened to be, by chance, the eldest of seven brothers. + +"My father has seven sons, and I am the eldest," said Gennaro, that +curly-headed, bright-eyed Sicilian youth, for whom life seemed all +sunshine. "Why, what am I to do?" + +The waterspout was advancing rapidly, the sea was lashed by the +mighty waves, and the ship, like a nutshell, was being tossed against +it. + +Vranic, who had drawn the cabalistic sign, handed it to the captain. + +"Stab that star in the centre, quickly." + +The Slav took out a little black dagger, and gave it to the youth. + +"Be quick! there is no time to be lost." + +The murmuring and hissing sound the column of water had been making +had changed into the deafening roar of a waterfall. It seemed to be +whirling round with vertiginous rapidity, as it came upon them. + +"Make haste!" added the captain. + +"But why?" + +"Do it! this is no time to ask questions!" replied the master. + +"And then?" quoth the youth, turning to Vranic. + +"The waterspout will melt into rain." + +"And what will happen to me?" + +"To you? Why, nothing." + +"I am frightened." + +A vivid flash of lightning appeared, and the rumbling of the thunder +now mingled itself with the roaring of the waters. + +"Frightened of what?" said the captain. + +"That man has the _jettatura_; I am sure he means mischief." + +"What a coward you are! Do what I order you, or, by the Madonna----" + +"What harm can befall you for stabbing a bit of paper?" said some of +the sailors. + +"Quick! it is the only chance of saving us all!" added the boatswain. + +"Only, if you don't make haste, it'll be too late." + +The abyss of the waters seemed to open before the ship, ready to +engulf it; the waves were rolling over it. + +Gennaro crossed himself devoutly, then he muttered a prayer; at last +he took up the dagger and stabbed the pentagon in the very middle, +just where Vranic had pointed to him with his finger; still, he grew +ghastly pale as he did so. + +"Holy Mother," said the youth, "forgive me if I have done wrong!" + +All the eyes anxiously turned from the bit of paper to the +waterspout, whirling round and coming ever nearer. + +All at once the whirling seemed to stop; then, as the motion relaxed, +the column of water snapped somewhat above the middle; the lower +portion, or base, relapsed and gradually fell; it was absorbed by the +rising waves and the bubbling and foaming waters. The higher portion +began to curl upwards and to disappear amidst the huge mass of +lowering clouds overhead. + +"There," said Vranic, "I told you the spout would melt away and +vanish." + +"Wonderful!" said the captain. + +"Yes, indeed!" said Gennaro, as he again crossed himself and handed +the dagger to its owner, evidently glad to get rid of it. + +"Well, you see that you were not struck dead," said the boatswain to +the youth. + +"Nor carried away by the devil," said another of the sailors. + +"The year is not yet out, nor the day either," thought Vranic to +himself; "and even if you live, you may rue this day and the deed +you've done." + +"You have saved all our lives, and we thank you, Gennaro," added the +captain. "I shall never forget you; and I hope that, as long as I +command a ship, we'll never part." + +Thereupon, he clasped him in his arms and kissed him fondly. + +"Thank you, captain; and may San Gennaro, my patron saint, and the +blessed Virgin, grant you your wish and mine." + +"We thank you, too," said the captain to Vranic, feeling himself +bound to say something; "you are really a magician, and you know the +secret of the elements." + +"Oh! it is a thing that every child knows in our country, just like +pouring oil in the sea to calm the waves." + +The men said nothing, but they were all glad the coasts were near, +and that they would soon get rid of this uncanny and uncouth man. + +In the meanwhile, the sun had gone down, and dark night spread itself +like a pall over the sea. The storm then increased with the darkness. +The waterspout had vanished, but in its stead a pouring rain came +down; the wind also began to blow in fitful blasts, and as it came in +a contrary direction they were obliged to tack about, and to take in +the sails. The storm, however, kept increasing at a fearful rate; the +wind was blowing a real hurricane; all sails, even the jib, had to be +reefed. The sea, lashed by the wind, became ever more boisterous; the +waves rose in succession, uplifting themselves the one on top of the +other, and dashing against the ship, which ever seemed ready to +founder. All hands were now at the pumps, and Vranic, along with the +others, worked away with all his strength. + +Steering--as the ship had done--to avoid the waterspout, she had been +continually altering her course, so that the captain did not exactly +know whereabouts they were. In the midst of the darkness and with the +torrents of rain that came pouring down, all traces of land had long +disappeared. + +All at once a mightier gust of wind came down upon the ship, the +beams groaned, then there was a tremendous crash and one of the masts +came down. There was a moment of panic and confusion; Vranic fell +upon his knees and began to pray for help. + +Soon after that a light was seen at no very great distance. + +"We are saved," said the captain; "there is Cape Campanella +lighthouse." + +All eyes were fixed upon that beacon. + +"It is rather too low to be Cape Campanella," added the boatswain. + +"Yes; and, besides, it flashes every two minutes," replied the +captain. + +They thereupon concluded that it was the lighthouse on Carena Point, +the south-western extremity of the island of Capri. + +Thinking it to be Cape Campanella, they had steered towards the +light--the only dangerous part of the island, on account of the reef, +which stretches out a long way into the sea. When they found out +their mistake it was too late to avoid the danger that threatened +them; the ship was dashed against the rocks, which were heard grating +under the keel and ripping open the sides, like the teeth of some +famished monster of the deep. Fortunately, the brig had got tightly +wedged between two rocks and kept fast there, so nothing was to be +done but work hard at the pumps, trying to keep out as much water as +they possibly could. + +The night seemed everlasting. Still, by degrees, the storm subsided, +and at dawn the wind had gone down and the sea had grown calm. + +At daybreak help came from the shore. + +"The ship is very much damaged," said the captain, "and so is the +cargo, doubtless; but, at least, there are no lives lost," added he, +looking round. + +A few moments afterwards, the boatswain, wanting something, called +Gennaro, but no answer came. He called again and again, cursed his +canine breed, but with no better success. + +"Where is Gennaro?" asked the captain. + +The youth was sought down below, but he was nowhere to be found. All +the men of the crew looked at one another enquiringly, and at last +the questions that everyone was afraid to ask were uttered. + +Had the youth been swept away by one of the huge breakers that washed +over the deck? Had he been killed by the falling mast, or blown into +the deep by a sudden and unexpected gust of wind? No one had seen him +disappear; all looked around, expecting to see the handsome face of +the youth they loved so well rising above the waves; but the green +waters kept their secret. After that, all eyes turned towards Vranic, +as if asking for an answer. + +"The last time I saw the youth was when he was working at the pumps +by me, just before the mast came down." + +They all muttered some oath, unintelligible to him, and then a prayer +for the youth. After that Vranic was only too glad to leave the ship, +for every man on board seemed to look upon him as the cause of +Gennaro's mysterious disappearance. + +Having remained a week in Naples, seeing his money, the only thing he +loved, dwindle away, Vranic did his best to find some employment. He +for a few days got a living as a porter, helping to unload sacks from +an English ship. Still, that was but a very precarious living, and he +decided to follow a seafaring life, not because he was fond of it, +but only to keep clear from his enemies and the laws of his country, +and the vampire that had haunted him there every night. + +He happened to find employment, as cook, on the very ship he had +helped to discharge. It was an English schooner, bound for Glasgow. +The captain, a crusty old bachelor, was a real hermit-crab; the men, +a most ruffianly set. Vranic, being hardly able to speak with anyone, +indulged in his morose way of living, and, except for being kicked +about every now and then, he was left very much to himself. + +From Glasgow the schooner sailed for Genoa, where she arrived just as +the _Giustizia di Dio_ was about to set sail. The two ships came so +close together that Vranic, who kept a sharp look-out whenever he saw +an Austrian flag, recognised Milenko standing on the deck and +ordering some manoeuvres. + +Although the young man could not perceive him, hidden as he was in the +darkness of the galley, and bending over the stove, still Vranic felt +a shock that for a few moments almost deprived him of his senses, and +made him feel quite sick. + +That day the dinner was quite a failure. The roast was burnt; the +potatoes, instead, were raw; the cauliflower was uneatable, and salt +had been put in the pudding instead of sugar. + +If there is anything trying to human patience, it is a spoilt dinner, +especially the first one gets in port. It is, therefore, not to be +wondered at that the captain, never very forbearing at the best of +times, got so angry that he kicked Vranic down the hatchway and +almost crippled him. + +Although the Dalmatian ship sailed away, bound probably towards the +East, and he would perhaps never see her captain again, still the +shock he felt had quite unnerved him. From that day matters began to +go on from bad to worse. Sailing from Genoa, they first met with +contrary winds, and much time was lost cruising about; after that +came a spell of calm weather, and for long weeks they remained in +sight of the bold promontory and of the lighthouse of Cape Bearn, not +far from the port of Vendres. At last a fair wind arose, the sails +were made taut, and the schooner flew on the crested waves. A new +life seemed to have come over the crew, tired of their listless +inactivity; the captain cursed Vranic and kicked him a little less +than he had done on the previous days. + +It was to be hoped that the wind would continue fair; otherwise their +provisions would begin falling short. Ill-luck, however, was awaiting +them in another direction. + +Opening a keg of salted meat a few days later, the stench was so +loathsome, that it reminded Vranic of that awful night when he had +stabbed the vampire; besides, big worms were crawling and wriggling +at the top. Vranic at once called the mate and showed him the rotten +meat, and the mate reported the fact to the captain. He only answered +with a few oaths, then shrugged his shoulders, and said that dogs +would lick their chops at such dainty morsels, and were his men any +better than dogs? + +"Wash it well, clean it, and put some vinegar with it," said the +mate, who was the best man on board. "There is no other meat, and +that is better than starving." + +Vranic did as he was bid; he put more pepper than usual. Still, he +himself did not taste it, but lived on biscuit, for even the potatoes +had been all eaten up. + +A few days afterwards, taking out another piece from the cask, he +drew out a sinewy human arm, hacked in several places, and with the +fingers chopped off. Shuddering, and seized with a feeling of +loathsomeness, he stood for a moment bewildered. Then he almost +fancied he had touched something hairy in the cask, and looking in, +he saw a disfigured and bearded man's head. Sickening at the gruesome +sight, he dropped the arm into the cask and hastened to the mate, +trying to explain to him what the barrel contained. + +The mate could hardly understand and would not believe him, but soon +he had to yield to the evidence of his own senses. The mate, in his +turn, reported the horrible fact to the captain, who asked both men +not to divulge the secret to the crew. When night came on, the cask +and its contents were thrown overboard. The captain was not to blame +for what the cask contained, nor were the ship-chandlers, who had +supplied him at other times upon leaving Scotland. The cask bore the +trade-mark of a well-known foreign house trading in preserved meat. + +The provisions, which had been scarce, now began to fall short; but +in a day or two they would have reached their destination. The wind, +however, was contrary, and some delay ensued. Hunger was now +beginning to be felt. The crew, overworked and badly fed, first grew +sullen; the foremost of them, with scowling looks, began to utter +threatening words. Orders given were badly obeyed, or not obeyed at +all. Long pent-up anger seemed every moment ready to break out--first +against the captain, then against the mate, finally against Vranic, +who, they said, was leagued against them. + +The boatswain especially hated him. + +"Since that cursed foreigner has come on board," said he, "everything +has been going from bad to worse. Even the provisions seem to dwindle +and waste away." + +"I'd not be surprised," added one of the sailors, "that he is leagued +with the captain to poison the whole lot of us, for, in fact, the +meat tasted like carrion, and I don't know what's up with me." + +"Nonsense! Why poison us? Starving is much better," quoth another. + +A trifle soon brought on a quarrel, which ended in a tussle. Vranic +got cuffed and kicked about; he had been born in an unlucky moment, +and everyone hated him without really understanding why or wherefore. + +Why do most people dislike toads or blind-worms? + +The mate, seeing the poor cook unfairly used, interfered on his +behalf, and tried to put an end to the fight. This only made matters +worse. The captain, hearing the noise, appeared on deck, and a mutiny +at once broke out. + +The boatswain, who was at the head of the revolted crew, snatching up +a hatchet which happened to be there within his reach, advanced and +demanded a distribution of provisions. + +The captain, for all answer, knocked him down with a crow-bar; at the +same time he showed the crew the coast of England, which was faintly +visible at a distance, as well as a man-of-war coming full sail +towards them. + +A day after this incident, the ship had landed her rebellious crew at +Cardiff. The boatswain was sent to jail, where, if he had been a man +of a philosophical turn of mind, he might have meditated on the +difference between right and might. + +As for Vranic, he was but too glad to quit a ship where he was hated +by everybody, even by the captain, who had treated him more like a +galley slave than a fellow-creature. + +After having earned a pittance as a porter for a short time, he again +embarked on board the _Ave Maria_, an Austrian ship bound for +Marseilles. This ship had had a remarkably prosperous voyage from the +Levant. The captain had received a handsome gratuity, and now a cargo +had been taken at a very high freight; therefore, from the captain to +the cabin-boy, every man on board was merry and worked with a good +will. + +Although the weather was bleak, rainy and foggy, still the wind blew +steadily; moreover, the _Ave Maria_ was a good ship, and a fast +sailer, withal she laboured under a great disadvantage, that of being +overladen, and was, consequently, always shipping heavy seas. + +On leaving Cardiff, the captain found that two of the sailors, who +had been indulging in excesses of every kind whilst on shore, were in +a bad state of health. A third sickened a few days afterwards, and +for a long time all three were quite unfit for work. Still, the ship +managed to reach Marseilles without any mishap. + +The cargo was unloaded, a fresh one was taken on board; the men +received medical assistance, and seemed to be recovering. On leaving +Marseilles, matters went from bad to worse; the captain, his mate, +and two other sailors fell ill. + +"It seems," said the captain, "as if someone has the gift of the evil +eye, for, since we left England, ill-luck follows in our wake." + +The crew was, therefore, greatly diminished, for the three men, who +had been recovering, were now, on account of improper food and +overwork, quite ill again. + +On leaving Marseilles they met with heavy gales and baffling squalls +of wind; the ship began to pitch heavily, then to labour and strain +in such a way that, overladen as she was, the pestilence-stricken +crew could hardly manage her. For three days the wind blew with such +violence that two men had to be constantly kept at the helm. +Moreover, she shipped so many seas that hands had to be always at the +pumps. The very first day the waves had washed away the coops; then, +at last, the jib-boom and the bowsprit shrouds had been broken loose +and torn away by the grasp of the storm. + +At last the storm subsided, and then the captain ascertained that the +ship had sustained such damage as to render her unsafe. In such a +predicament, with the crew all ailing, the captain deemed it +necessary to go back to Marseilles for repairs. + +After a short stay there, the _Ave Maria_ set sail again for Palermo, +where she arrived without further mishap; only the sick sailors, +having had to work hard during the storm, were rather worse than +better. On leaving Palermo two other men of the crew had to be put on +the sick-list, so that by the time they reached the Adriatic the ship +was not much better than a pestiferous floating hospital. In fact, +the only ones who had escaped the loathsome contagion were Vranic and +the two boys, and they had to do the work of the whole crew. + +It was fortunate that, notwithstanding the stormy season of the year, +the weather kept steadily fair, for, in case of a hurricane, the crew +would have been almost helpless. At last land was within sight; the +hills of Istria were seen, towards evening, as a faint greyish line +on the dark grey sky. The captain and the men heaved a sigh of +relief; that very night they would cast anchor in the port of +Trieste. There some had their homes; all, at least, had relations or +friends. Vranic alone hoped to meet no one he knew. + +That evening they made a hearty meal, for, as their provisions had +slightly begun to fall short, they had scarcely satisfied their +hunger for several days; but now--almost within sight of the +welcoming, flashing rays of the Trieste lighthouse--they could, +indeed, be somewhat prodigal. + +The sirocco, which had accompanied them all the way from Palermo, now +fell all at once, just as they had reached the neighbourhood of Cape +Salvore. That sudden quietness boded nothing good. Soon, the captain +perceived that the wind was shifting in the Gulf of Trieste. By +certain well-known signs, he argued that the north-easterly wind was +rising; and soon afterwards, a fierce _bora_, the scourge of all the +neighbourhood, began to blow. + +Orders were at once given to reef the topsails; then they began to +tack about, so as to come to an anchorage in the roads of Trieste as +soon as possible. + +With the want of hands, the work proceeded very slowly and clumsily. +Night came on--dark, dismal night--amidst a howling wind and raging +billows dashing furiously against the little ship. It was a comfort +on the next morning to see the white houses and the naked hills of +Trieste; for they were not far from the port. Every means was tried +to get near the land without being dashed against it and stranded, or +split against the rocks; but the fierce wind baffled all their +efforts. And the whole of the day was passed in uselessly tacking +about and ever being driven farther off in the offing. Still, late in +the afternoon, they managed to get nearer the port, and at sunset +both anchors were dropped, not far from the jetty; still, the violence +of the wind was such that all communication with the land was +rendered impossible. That evening the last provisions were eaten, for +they had spent the whole day fasting. The strength of the gale +increased with the night. More chain was then added; but still the +anchors began to come home. By degrees, all the chains were paid out; +and, nevertheless, the ship was drifting. In so doing, she struck her +helm against a buoy. The shock caused one of the chains, which was +old and rusty, to snap. After that, the _Ave Maria_ was driven back +bodily towards the coasts of Istria, till finding, at last, a better +bottom, the anchor held and the ship was stopped at about a mile from +Punta Grossa, not far from Capo d'Istria. There was no moon; the sky +was overcast; the darkness all around was oppressive. The huge +surges, dashing against the bows and the forecastle, washed away +everything on deck. The boats themselves were rendered unserviceable. +The thermometer had fallen eighteen degrees in two days, and the +keen, sharp wind blowing rendered the cold most intense. A fringe of +icicles was hanging down from the sides of the ship, the spray froze +on the tackle, and rendered the ropes as hard as iron cables. + +Then the ship sprung a leak, and the pumps had to be worked to +prevent her from sinking. To keep the men alive, the captain opened a +pipe of Marsala which had been destined for the shippers. That night, +which seemed everlasting, finally wore away, dawn came, and the +signal of distress was hoisted; a ship passed at no great distance, +but took no notice of them. Anyhow, help could be expected from +Trieste; the coastguards must have seen them struggling against the +storm. That day the wind increased; not a ship, not a sailing-boat +was to be seen in the offing; what a long, dreary day of baffled hope +that was. When evening came on, the fasting crew, now completely +fagged out, began to lose courage, and yet they were but a few miles +from the coast. That night Vranic had a dreadful vision. When he took +his place at the pump, opposite him, at the other handle, stood the +vampire grinning at him, with the horrible gash in his cheek. That +gruesome sight was too dreadful to be borne; he felt his arms getting +stiff, and he fell fainting on the deck. He only recovered his senses +when a huge wave came breaking against the deck and almost washed him +overboard. + +In the morning the wind began to abate; but now all the sailors were +not only thoroughly exhausted, but all more or less in a state of +intoxication. The pumps could hardly be worked any more; even Vranic, +the boys and the captain, who had worked to the last, hoping to save +their lives, were obliged to leave the vessel to sink. + +The _Ave Maria_ was going down rapidly, and now, even if the men +could have worked, it was impossible to think of saving her; she was +to be the prey of the waves. As for help from Trieste, it was useless +looking out for it. Still, the titled gentlemen, in their warm and +cosy offices of the _See-Behoerde_, which fronted the harbour, had +seen the ship fighting against the wind and the waves. They knew, or, +at least, ought to have known, of her distress; but it was carnival +time, and their thoughts were surely not with the ships at sea. + +At last, at eight o'clock, a ship was seen, and signals of distress +were made. The ship answered, and began tacking about and trying to +come near the sinking craft. When within reach of hearing, the whole +crew of the _Ave Maria_ summoned up all their strength and shouted +that they were starving. + + + + +CHAPTER XXII + +THE "GIUSTIZIA DI DIO" + + +Since his departure, Milenko had never received any letters from his +parents, for, in those times of sailing-ships, captains got news from +home casually, by means of such fellow-countrymen as they chanced to +meet, rather than through the post. Lately they had happened to come +across a Ragusian ship at Brindisi, but, as this ship had left Budua +only a short time after Milenko himself had sailed, all the +information the captain could give was rather stale. As for Vranic, +nothing had been heard of him these many months. + +Peric (the youth sailing with Milenko) heard, however, that the +forebodings he had had concerning his brother were but too well +founded; the poor boy had been killed while taking care of his +father's horse. Still, the man who told him the news did not know, or +had partly forgotten, all the details of the dreadful accident, for +all he remembered was that the poor child had been brought home to +his mother a mangled, bleeding corpse. + +Milenko then seemed again to see the vision he had witnessed within +the waters, and he could thus relate to the poor boy all the +particulars of the tragic event. + +Poor Peric cried bitterly, thinking of the poor boy he had been so +fond of, and whom he would never see again; then, having somewhat +recovered from his grief: + +"It is very strange," said he, "that, on the very night on which you +saw my brother dragged by the horse, I heard a voice whispering in my +ear: 'Jurye is dead!' and then I fancied that the wind whistling in +the rigging repeated: 'Jurye is dead!' and that same phrase was +afterwards lisped by the rushing waters. Just then, to crown it all, +I looked within the palm of my hand--why, I really do not know; but +that, as you are aware, brings about the death of the person we love +most. At that same moment a cold shivering came over me, and I felt +sure that my poor brother was dead. All this is very strange, is it +not?" + +"Not so very strange, either," replied Milenko; "the saints allow us +to have an inkling of what is to happen, so that when misfortune does +come, we are not crushed by it." + +"Oh! we all knew that one of our family would die during the year; +only, as I was going to sea, I thought that I might be the one +who----" + +"How did you know?" asked Milenko. + +"Because, when our grandmother died, her left eye remained open; and, +although they tried to shut it, still, after a while, the lids parted +again, and that, you well know, is a sure sign that someone of the +house would follow her during the year." + +The youth remained thoughtful for a little while, and then he added: + +"I wonder how my poor mother is, now that she has lost both her +sons." + +"We shall soon have news from home, for, if the weather does not +change, to-morrow we shall be in Trieste, where letters are surely +awaiting us." + +"Do you ever have voices whispering in your ears?" asked Peric. + +"No, never; do you?" + +"Very often, especially when I keep very still and try to think of +nothing at all, just as if I were not my own self, but someone else." + +"Try and see if you can hear a voice now." + +The youth remained for some time perfectly still, looking as if he +were going off into a trance; when he came to himself again: + +"I did hear a voice," said he. + +"What did it say?" + +"That to-morrow you will meet the man you have been looking for." + +"Nothing else?" + +"Nothing." + +"Is it not imagination?" + +"Oh, no! besides, poets often hear the voice of the moon, who tells +them all the stories they write in their books." + +"Do they?" quoth Milenko, smiling. + +"Yes; do you not know the story of 'The Snowdrop,' that Igo Kas heard +whilst he was seated by a newly-dug grave?" + +"No, I never heard it." + +"Then I'll read it to you, if you like." + +Milenko having nothing better to do, listened attentively to the +youth's tale. + + +THE SNOWDROP. + +A Slav Story. + +The last feathery flakes of snow, fallen in the night, had not yet +melted away, when the first snowdrop, which had sprung up in the +dark, glinted at the dawning sun. A drop of dew, glistening on the +edge of its half-opened leaves, looked like a sparkling tear. That +dainty little flower, as white as the surrounding snow, had sprouted +up beside a newly-dug grave. As I stooped down to pick the little +snowdrop, I saw the words inscribed on the white marble slab, and +then sorrow's heavy hand was laid upon my heart. The name was that of +the Countess Anya Yarnova, a frail flower of early spring, as +spotless as the little snowdrop. + +What had been the cause of her sudden death? Was it some secret +sorrow? Was it her love for that handsome stranger whose flashing +eyes revealed the hunger of his heart? + +At gloaming I was again beside the newly-opened grave. The sun had +set, the birds in the bushes were hushed; the breeze, that before +seemed to be the mild breath of spring, began to blow in fitful, cold +blasts. + +The round disc of the moon now rose beyond the verge of the horizon, +and its mild, amber light fell upon the marble monument of the +Yarnova family, almost hidden under a mass of white roses, camellias +and daffodils, made up in huge wreaths. + +Mute and motionless, I sat for some time musing by the tomb; then at +last, looking up at + + "That orbed maiden, with white fire laden, + Whom mortals call the Moon," + +I said: + + "Tell me, Moon, thou pale and grey + Pilgrim of Heaven's homeless way," + +didst thou know young Countess Yarnova, so full of life a few days +ago, and now lying there in the cold bosom of the earth? Tell me what +bitter and unbearable grief broke that young heart; speak to me, and +I shall listen to thy words as to the voice of my mother, when, in +the evening, she whispered weird tales to me while putting me to +sleep. + +A loud moan seemed to arise from the tomb, and then I heard a voice +as silvery sweet as the music of the spheres, lisp softly in my +ear:-- + + +Passing by the Yarnova Castle three days ago, I peeped within its +casements, and, in a dimly-lighted hall, I saw Countess Yadviga, who +had just returned from Paris. She wore a black velvet dress, and her +head was muffled in a lace mantilla; although her features twitched +and she was sad and careworn, still she looked almost as young and +even handsomer than her fair daughter. + +Presently, as she sat in the dark room, the door was opened; a page +stepped in, drew aside the gilt morocco portiere emblazoned with the +Yarnova arms, and ushered in the handsome stranger, Aleksij Orsinski. + +The Baron looked round the dimly-lighted room for a while. At last he +perceived the figure of the Countess as she sat in the shadow of the +huge fire-place; then he went up to her and bowed. + +"Thank you, Countess Yarnova, for snatching yourself away from +beautiful Paris and coming in this dismal place." + +The figure in the high-backed arm-chair bowed slightly, and without +uttering a single word, motioned the stranger to a seat at a short +distance. The Baron sat down. + +"Thank you especially for at last giving your consent to my marriage +with the beautiful Anya." + +The Baron waited for a reply, but as none came, he went on: + +"Although her guardian hinted that Anya was somewhat too young for +me, still I know she loves me; and as for myself, I swear that +henceforth the aim of my life will be that of making her happy." + +The Baron, though sixteen years older than his childlike bride, was +himself barely thirty; he was, moreover, a most handsome man--tall, +stalwart, with dark flashing eyes, a long flowing moustache, a mass +of black hair, and a remarkably youthful appearance. He waited again +a little while for an answer, but the mother did not speak. + +The large and lofty hall in which they were, with its carved stalls +jutting out of the wainscot, looked far more like a church than a +habitable room; the few fantastic oil lamps seemed like stars shining +in the darkness, while the mellow light of the moon, pouring in from +the mullioned windows, fell on the Baron's manly figure, and left the +Countess in the dark. + +As no answer came, the stranger, at a loss what to say, repeated his +own words: + +"Yes, all my days will be devoted to the happiness of our child." + +"Our child?" said the Countess at last, with a slight tremor in her +voice. + +The Baron started like a man roused in the midst of a dream. + +"Your daughter I mean, Countess." + +Seized by a strange feeling of oppression, which he was unable to +control, the Baron, in his endeavour to overcome it, began to relate +to the mother how he had met Anya by chance, how he had fallen in +love with her the very moment he had seen her, how from that day she +had engrossed all his thoughts, for, from their first meeting, her +image had haunted him day and night. + +"In fact," added he, "it was the first time I had loved, the very +first." + +"The first?" echoed the voice in the dark. + +The strong man trembled like an aspen leaf. Those two words coming +from that dark, motionless figure, sitting at some distance, seemed +to be a voice from the tomb, an echo from the past; that past which +never buries its dead. To get over his increasing nervousness the +Baron began to speak with greater volubility: + +"In my early youth, or rather in my childhood I should say," added +he, "I did love once----" + +"Once?" repeated the voice. + +The Baron started again and stopped. Was it Anya's mother who spoke, +or was there an echo in that room? Still, he went on: + +"Yes, once I loved, or, at least, thought myself in love." + +"Thought?" added the voice. + +That repetition was getting unbearable; anyhow, he tried not to heed +it. + +"Well, Countess, it was only a childish fancy, a boy's infatuation; +at sixteen, I was spoony on a girl two years younger than myself, +just about the age my Anya is now. Fate parted us; I grieved a while; +but, since I saw your daughter, I understood that I had never loved +before, no, never!" + +"Never before--no, never!" uttered the woman in the dark. + +The Baron almost started to his feet; that voice so silvery clear, so +mournfully sweet, actually seemed to come from the far-off regions +from where the dead do not return. After a short silence, only +interrupted by two sighs, he went on: + +"There were, of course, other loves between the first and the last +--swift, evanescent shadows, leaving no traces behind them. And now +that I have made a full confession of my sins, Countess, can I not +see my Anya?" + +"Your Anya?" + +This was carrying a joke rather too far. + +"Well, my fiancee?" said he, rather abruptly. + +"No, Aleksij Orsinski, not yet. You have spoken, and I have listened +to you; it is my turn to speak. I, too, have something to say about +Anya's father." + +The Baron had always been considered as a brave man, but now either +the darkness oppressed him, or the past arose in front of him +threateningly, or else the strange and almost weird behaviour of his +future mother-in-law awed him; but, somehow or other, he had never +felt so uncomfortable before. Not only a disagreeable feeling of +creepiness had come over him, but even a slight perspiration had +gathered on his brow. He almost fancied that, instead of a woman, a +ghost was sitting there in front of him echoing his words. Who was +that ghost? Perhaps, he would not--probably, he dared not recognise +it. He tried, however, to shake off his nervousness, and said, with +forced lightness: + +"I have had the honour of knowing Count Yarnova personally; he was +somewhat eccentric, it is true; still, a more honourable man +never----" + +"He was simply mad," interrupted the Countess; "anyhow, it is not of +Count Yarnova, but of Anya'a father of whom I wish to speak." Then, +after a slight pause, as if nerving herself to the painful task, the +woman in the dark added: "For you must know that not a drop of the +Count's blood flows in my daughter's veins." + +There was another awkward pause; Aleksij's heart began to beat much +faster, the perspiration was gathering on his brow in much bigger +drops. + +"Count Yarnova was not your daughter's father, you say?" He would +have liked to add: "Who was, then?" but he durst not. + +"No, Aleksij Orsinski, he was not." + +A feeling of sickness came over the Baron; he hardly knew whether he +was awake, or asleep and dreaming. Who was that woman in the dark? + +The Countess, after a while, resumed her story: "I was born in St. +Petersburg, of a wealthy and honourable, but not of a noble family. +I, too, was but a child when I fell in love, deeply in love, with a +neighbour's son. Unlike yours, Baron, and I suppose all men's, a +woman's first love is the only real one. I was then somewhat younger +than my daughter now is, for I had barely reached my thirteenth year, +and as for my lover, he was fifteen. We often met, unknown to our +parents, in our garden; I saw no harm in it--I was too young, too +guileless, not to trust him----" + +She stopped. + +"And he?" asked the Baron, as if called upon to say something. + +"He, like Romeo, whispered vows of love, of eternal fidelity. He +believed in his vows just then, as you did, Aleksij Orsinski; for I +daresay that with you, as with all men, the last love is the only +true one." + +"Then?" asked the Baron. + +"Once we stepped out of the garden together; a carriage was waiting +for us; we drove to a lonely chapel not far from our house; a priest +there blessed us and made us man and wife. Our marriage, however, was +to be kept a secret till we grew older, or, at least, till my husband +was master of his actions, for he knew that his parents would never +consent to our union." + +There was another pause; but now the Baron could not trust himself to +speak, his teeth were almost chattering as if with intense cold. + +"A time of sickness and sorrow reigned over our country; the people +were dying by hundreds and by thousands. The plague was raging in St. +Petersburg. My husband's family were the first to flee from the +contagion. We remained. The scourge had just abated, when, to my +horror and dismay, I understood that I should in a few months become +a mother. I wrote to my husband, but I received no answer; still, I +knew he was alive and in good health. I wrote again, but with no +better success. The day came when, at last, I had to disclose my +terrible secret to my parents." + +The Countess stopped, passed her hands over her brow as if to drive +away the remembrance of those dreadful days. + +"It is useless to try and relate their anger and my shame. My parents +would not believe in my marriage; besides, the priest that had +married us, even the witnesses, had all been swept away by that weird +scavenger, the plague. I had no paper, no certificate, not even a +ring to show that I was married. Contumely was not enough; I was not +only treated by my parents with pitiless scorn, but I was, moreover, +turned out of their house. When our own parents shut their doors +against us, is it a wonder if the world is ruthless? + +"What was I to do? where was I to go? With the few roubles I had I +could not travel very far or live very long. I wandered to the castle +where my husband was living; I asked for him, but I was told that he +was ill." + +"But he was ill," said the Baron, "was he not?" + +"Perhaps his watery love had already flowed away, and he had given +orders not to receive me if I should present myself. For a moment I +stood rooted on the doorstep, bewildered, not knowing what to do; +then I asked to see his mother. This was only exposing myself to one +humiliation more. She came out in the hall; there she called me +bitter names, and when I told her that I had not a bed whereon to lie +that night, she replied that the Neva was always an available bed for +girls like me; then she ordered her servants to cast me out. + +"Houseless, homeless, almost penniless; my husband's mother was +right--the Neva was the only place where I could find rest. In its +fast-fleeting waters I might indeed find shelter. + +"With my thoughts all of suicide I directed myself towards the open +country, hoping soon to reach the banks of the broad river, for I was +not only tired out, but weak and faint for want of food. My legs at +last began to give way; weary, disheartened, I sank down by the +roadside and began to sob aloud. All at once I heard a creaking noise +of wheels, the tramp of horses, and merry human voices singing in +chorus. As I lifted up my head I saw two carts passing, wherein a +band of gipsies were all huddled together. Seeing my grief and +hearing my sobs, the driver stopped; a number of boys and young men, +girls and women jumped, crawled or scrambled down from the carts, as +crabs do out of a basket; then they all crowded around me to find out +what had befallen me. I would not answer their questions, nor could I +have done so even if I had wanted. I was almost too faint to speak. +An elderly woman, the chief's wife, pushed all the others aside, came +up to me, took my hand and examined it carefully; then she began to +speak in a language I did not understand. + +"'Poor child!' said she at last, patting my hair and kissing me on my +eyes; 'you are indeed in trouble; still, bright days are in store for +you; take courage, cheer up, live, for you will soon be a grand lady, +and then you will trample over all your enemies--yes, over every one +of them. You have no home,' said she, as if answering my own +thoughts; 'What does it matter? Have we a home? Have the little birds +that nestle in the leafy boughs a home? No, all the world is their +home. Come with us. You have no family; well, you will be our child.' + +"Saying this she gave an order to the men around her, and almost +before I was aware of it, half-a-dozen brawny arms lifted me tenderly +and placed me on a heap of clothes in one of the carts. Soon my +protectress was by my side whispering words of endearment in my ear; +and as for myself, weak and starving, forlorn and dejected as I was, +I cared very little what became of me. + +"The gipsy woman, who was versed in medicine, poured me out some kind +of cordial or sleeping draught and made me drink it; a few minutes +afterwards a pleasant drowsiness came over me, then I fell fast +asleep. I only awoke some hours later, and I found myself lying on a +mattress in a tent. I remained for some time bewildered, unable to +understand where and with whom I was; still, when I came to my senses +the keen edge of my grief was blunted. The gipsy woman, my +protectress, kissed me in a fond, mother-like way; then she brought +me a plate of food. + +"'Eat,' said she, 'grief has a much greater hold on an empty stomach +than on a satiated one.' + +"I was young and hungry; the smell of the food was good; I did not +wait to be asked twice. I never remembered to have tasted anything so +delicious. It was not soup, but a kind of savoury stew, containing +vegetables and meat--an _olla-podrida_ of ham, beef and poultry. +After that, they offered me some fragrant drink, which soon made me +feel drowsy, and then sent me off to sleep again. I woke early the +next morning, when they were about to start on their daily +wanderings. With my head still muddled with sleep, I was helped into +the cart, and sat down between my new friend and her husband. + +"That life in the open air, the kindness and good-humour of the +people amongst whom I lived, soothed and quieted me. All ideas of +suicide vanished entirely from my mind. Self-murder is an unknown +thing amongst gipsies. Besides, my friend assured me, again and +again, that I should soon become a very great lady, and then all my +enemies would be at my mercy. + +"'But how shall I ever repay you for your kindness?' I asked. + +"'The day will come when the hand of persecution will be uplifted +against us; then you alone will protect us.' + +"In the meanwhile I was treated like a queen by all of them. +Moreover, they were a wealthy band, possessing not only horses, carts +and tents, but also money. They might have lived comfortably in some +town, or settled as farmers somewhere; but their life was by far too +pleasant to give it up. Heedless, jovial, contented people, their +only care seemed to be where they were to have their next meal. + +"A few months afterwards, my daughter was born in a tent, not far +from Warsaw." + +"She must have been a great comfort to you," quoth the Baron, +thinking he ought to say something appropriate. + +"A comfort? The unwished-for child of a man that had blighted my +life, a comfort? No, indeed, Baron. In fact, I saw very little of +this daughter of mine; a young gipsy nursed her and took care of her. +My own parents had taught me what love was. My husband's mother--a +grand lady--thought that the Neva was the best cradle for her unborn +grandchild. Besides, other work was waiting for me than nursing and +rearing Anya. + +"Count Yarnova one day met our band of gipsies on the road, and he +stretched his ungloved hand to have his fate read and explained. My +friend--no ordinary fortune-teller--was well versed in palmistry, and +a most lucid thought-reader; she told him that before the year was +out he would be a married man. + +"'In a few days,' added she, 'on Christmas Eve, you will see your +young bride in your own mirror; you will see her again after a few +days, and she will tend upon you and cure you from a fever when the +doctor's help will be worse than useless. As soon as you get well you +will start on a journey; then you will stop for some days in two +large towns, both of which begin with the same letter; there you will +see again that beautiful child you saw on Christmas Eve.' + +"'But when and where shall I meet her, not as a vision, but as a real +person?' + +"The Baron wore on the forefinger of his right hand a kind of magic +ring, in which a little crystal ball was set. The gipsy lifted the +Baron's hand to her eyes and looked at the crystal ball for a few +seconds. + +"'It is spring,' said she; 'the trees are in bloom, and Nature wears +her festive garb. In a splendid saloon, where all the furniture is of +gold and the walls are covered with rich silks, I see a handsome +young girl dressed in spotless white, holding a guitar and singing; +behind her there is a mass of flowers; around her gentlemen and +ladies are listening to the sound of her sweet voice.' + +"Count Yarnova was a Swedenborgian, and he not only believed in the +occult art, but had dabbled himself in magic, until his rather weak +mind was somewhat unhinged. He, of course, did not doubt the truth of +what the gipsy had foretold him; moreover, he was right, because +everything happened exactly as she had predicted. + +"On Christmas Eve the Count was alone in his room sitting at a little +table reading, and glancing every now and then, first at a clock, +afterwards at a huge cheval-glass opposite the alcove. All the +servants of the house, except his valet--a young gipsy of our band +--had gone to Mass, according to the custom of the place. At half-past +eleven my friends accompanied me to the Count's palace; the valet +opened the door noiselessly and led me unseen, unheard, in the +alcove. I was dressed in white and shrouded in a mass of silvery +veils. On the stroke of twelve I appeared between the two draped +columns which formed the opening of the alcove; the light hanging in +the middle of the room was streaming on me, and my image, reflected +in the glass, looked, in fact, like a vision. The Count, seeing it, +heaved a deep breath, started to his feet, drew back, stood still for +an instant, uttered an exclamation of surprise, then made a step +towards the looking-glass. At that moment the valet opened the door +as if in answer to his master's summons. The Count looked round, +thus giving me time to slip away; when he glanced again at the mirror +I had disappeared. Then the thought came to him that the image he had +seen within the glass was only the reflection of some one standing in +the alcove; he ordered the valet to look within the inner part of the +room, and when the servant man assured him that there was nobody, he +ventured to look in it himself. The valet swore that nobody had come +in the house, and by the time the servants returned from midnight +Mass I was already far away. + +"The Count had not been well for some days, and the shock he received +upset his nerves in such a way that he took to his bed with a kind of +brain fever. I attended him during his illness whilst he was +delirious, and when he recovered he had a slight remembrance of me, +just as of a vision we happen to see in a dream. He asked if a young +girl had not tended him during his illness; his valet and the other +servants told him that a mysterious stranger had come to take care of +him, and that she had soothed him much more by placing her hand upon +his brow, than all the doctor's stuff had done; still, no one had +ever seen her before, or knew where she had come from. + +"As soon as the Count was strong enough to travel, he decided to go +and visit some of the large towns of Europe, thus hoping to find me. + +"The vigilant eye of the police had long suspected Yarnova of being +an agitator; some letters addressed to him, and some of his own +writings on occult lore, had been strangely misinterpreted, and from +that time a constant watch had been held over him. No sooner had he +started than information was sent to the police that he was +conspiring against the Government, and thus I managed to be sent +after him and watch over him. Money, passports, and letters of +introduction to the ambassadors were handed to me. + +"Vienna was one of the towns where he stopped for a few days. A +follower of Cagliostro's was at that time showing there the phantoms +of the living, and those of the dead--not for money, of course, but +for any slight donation the visitors were pleased to give. The gipsy, +who accompanied Yarnova as valet, came to inform me that the Count +intended to go to this spiritualistic seance. The medium was also +acquainted of the fact, and for a slight consideration I was allowed +to appear before the public as my own materialised spirit. How most +of the ghosts were shown to the public, I cannot tell; I only know +that I appeared on a dimly-lighted stage, behind a thick gauze +curtain, wrapped up in a cloud of tulle, whilst harps and viols were +playing some weird funereal dirges. The people--huddled all together +in a dark corner--saw, I fancy, nothing but vague, dim forms passing +or floating by; but they were so anxious to be deceived that they +would have taken the wizard at his word, even if he had shown them an +ape and told them it was their grandmother. + +"When Yarnova saw me, he got so excited that it was with the greatest +difficulty that he could be kept quiet. + +"On the morrow the Count started for Venice, this being the nearest +town the name of which began with the same letter as Vienna. We got +there on the last days of the Carnival; an excellent time for the +purpose I had in hand, as the whole town seemed to have gone stark +mad. The Piazza San Marco was like a vast pandemonium, where dominoes +of every hue glided about, and masks of every kind walked, ran and +capered, or pushed their way through the dense crowd, chattering, +laughing, shouting. Bands of music were playing in front of several +coffee-houses, people were blowing horns; in fact, the uproar was +deafening. Dressed up as a Russian gipsy, and masked, I met the Count +on the square, and I told him all that had happened to him from the +day he had met the gipsies on the road. I only managed to escape from +him when he was stopped by a wizard--his own valet--who told him he +would see again that evening, at the masked ball of the Venice +theatre, the beautiful girl whose vision he had seen in his own +castle on Christmas Eve. + +"The Count, of course, went to the masked ball, followed by his valet +and myself, both in dominoes. Seeing a box empty, I went in it, +remained rather in the background, took off my hood and appeared in +the white veils, as he had already seen me twice. As soon as I +appeared, the valet, who was standing behind his master, laid his +hand on the Count's shoulder and whispered to him: 'Yarnova, look at +that lady in that box on the second tier--the third from the stage.' +The Count saw me, uttered an exclamation of surprise, turned round to +find out who had spoken to him; but the black domino had slipped away +amongst the crowd. I remained in the same position for a few moments, +then I put on my domino and mask and left the box. I met the Count +coming up, but, in the crowd, he, of course, did not notice me. + +"A few days afterwards, we left Venice; even before the Carnival was +quite over." + +"I suppose you were sorry to leave that beautiful town of pleasure?" +said the Baron. + +"Very sorry indeed; still, there was something to me sweeter than +pleasure, young as I was." + +"What was it, Countess?" + +"Revenge, so sweet to all Slavs." + +"And you revenged yourself?" + +"I have bided my time, Baron; every knot comes to the comb, they +say." + +"Did they all come?" + +"Sooner or later, all, to the very last; some of my enemies even +rotted in the mines of Siberia----" + +The Baron shivered, thinking of his father. + +"Others----" The Countess, for a moment, seemed to be thinking of the +past. + +"Well?" + +"But it is my own story I am telling you, not theirs. Count Yarnova +and I reached Paris almost at the same time. On my arrival, I +presented myself at the Russian Embassy. As the Ambassadress happened +to be looking for a companion or reader, the place was offered to me; +I accepted it most willingly. A few days afterwards, I was informed +by the gipsy, that the Count was to call on the Ambassadress the next +day. I remembered the prediction; I did my best to bring it about. +The room was exactly like the one described by my friend the gipsy; +the furniture was gilt, the walls were covered over with old damask; +as the Ambassadress was fond of flowers, the room looked like a +hot-house. I had put on the same white dress in which he had already +seen me three times, and knowing the very moment the Count would +come, I spoke of Russian peasant songs; I mentioned the one I was to +sing, and being requested to sing it, I did so. Before I ended it, +the door was opened and Count Yarnova was announced. + +"I do not know whether his could be called love at first sight, but +surely everybody in the room thought that his sudden passion for me +had almost deprived him of his reason. + +"The Count called on the morrow, and asked if I could receive him; I +did so, and he at once confessed his love for me. He told me that +although he was old enough to be my father, still, he felt sure I +should in time be fond of him, for marriages being made in heaven, I +was ordained to be his wife. + +"I tried to explain the plight in which I found myself, but he +interrupted me at once, telling me that he knew everything. + +"'I am aware that you have been forsaken by a cruel-hearted man,' +said he, 'but henceforth I shall be everything to you.' + +"I summoned my courage, I spoke to him of my child. + +"'The child that was born on Christmas night?' + +"'Yes,' I answered below my breath. + +"'It is my own spiritual child,' said he. + +"I looked at him astonished. + +"'I know all about it,' he continued. 'On that night I saw you in a +vision, just as it had been predicted to me; I saw you just as I see +you now. That very night I had, moreover, a vision. I was married to +you, and---- but never mind about that dream. I have seen you after +that--first in this magic ring; then I saw you materialised at +Vienna, and again in Venice. Of course, it was not you, but your +double, for you were at that time here in Paris, quite unconscious, +quietly asleep, having, perhaps, a dream of what your other self was +seeing.' + +"Then he began to speak of materialisation, of the influence of +planets, in fact, of many chaotic and uninteresting things to which +I, apparently at least, listened with the greatest attention. I was +well repaid for my trouble, for a few weeks afterwards we were +married." + +"And your former husband?" + +"Was dead to me." + +"Did not the Government give you any trouble?" + +"The Russian Government knew that Countess Yarnova could be of great +help." + +"And was she?" + +"Even more than had been expected." + +The Countess paused a moment. "It happened that my enemies, Aleksij +Orsinski, were also those of my country, so I crushed them." + +The Baron trembled perceptibly. + +"But that is their own tale, not mine. We came back to Russia, my +husband worshipping me as a superhuman creature." + +"And you loved him?" + +"I loved but once." + +"Then you still loved the man who----" + +"Love either flows away like water, or it rankles in a festering +heart and changes into gall. At St. Petersburg I saw again my +parents. Their curse had fallen on their own heads; fortune's wheel +had turned--their wealth was all gone--they were paupers. How +despicable people are who, having once been rich, cannot get +reconciled to the idea of being poor! How mean all their little +makeshifts are! how cringing they get to be! You can even make them +swallow any amount of dirt for a dinner you give them. They are all +loathsome parasites. I might have ignored my parents--left them to +their fate, or else helped them anonymously. I went to see them; it +was so pleasant to heap burning coals on their heads. I doled out a +pittance to them, received their thanks, allowed them to kiss my +hands, knowing how they cursed me within their hearts. Gratitude is +the bitterest of all virtues; it sours the very milk of human +kindness." + +The Countess laughed a harsh, bitter, shrill laugh, and her guest +wiped the perspiration from his forehead. + +"I shall tell you all about them some other time, in the long winter +evenings when the wind howls outside and the country is all covered +with its pall of snow. It will be pleasant to sit by the fire and +tell you all these old family stories, Aleksij Orsinski." + +And the dark figure buried in the big arm-chair laughed again in a +mocking, discordant way. + +"After some years the Count died, and then I was left sole mistress +of all his wealth." + +"And Anya?" + +"Why, I hardly ever saw her. She was brought up here, in this dreary +old castle, like a sleeping beauty; you, like Prince Charming, came +to waken her up. You found her here by chance, did you not?" + +"Yes, Countess; I happened----" + +"Count Yarnova, likewise, found me by chance," said the woman in the +dark, jeeringly, and interrupting him. + +"What do you mean?" asked the Baron, breathing hard. + +"I mean that the last knot has come to the comb." Aleksij Orsinski +covered his face with his hands. + +"Perhaps, after all," he thought, "this is nothing but a hideous +dream." + +"Do you not find, Baron, that Anya, _your_ Anya as you call her, +reminds you of another girl, the girl you----" + +"Countess, for mercy's sake, I can bear this no longer; who are you?" + +The Baron, trembling, panting, sprang to his feet and went up to the +Countess. She thereupon threw off her mantilla, and appeared in the +bright light of the full moon, which was streaming through the +mullioned windows. + +The Baron stretched out his arms. + +"Jadviga!" he said, in a low, muffled tone; then he again covered his +face with his hands. + +"And now, Aleksij Orsinski, now that my story is at an end," said the +Countess, in a jeering tone; "now that, at last, you have wakened +from your day-dream, whom am I to call--Anya your fiancee, or Anya +your own daughter?" + +A low moan was the only answer. + +"Speak, man, speak!" said the Countess, sneeringly. + +Another moan was heard; not from the Baron, but from behind one of +the thick Arras portieres. Then it moved, and Anya appeared within +the room. She advanced a few steps, stretched out her arms, just as +if she were walking in the dark; then, at last, she sank senseless +on the floor. The father ran to her, caught her up in his arms, +pressed her to his heart, tried to bring her back from her +fainting-fit, called her by the most endearing names; but, alas! she +was already beyond hearing him. + +"You have killed your daughter!" cried Aleksij, beside himself with +grief. + +"I?" said the Countess. + +"Yes, and you have blasted my life!" + +"Have you not blasted mine?" replied the Countess, laughing, and yet +looking as scared as a ghost. + +The Baron was moaning over his daughter's lifeless body. + +"You are happy, my Anya; but what is to become of me?" + +"Aleksij, rest can always be found within the waters of the Neva; its +bed is as soft as down, whilst the breeze blowing in the sedges sings +such a soft lullaby." + +Orsinski looked up at his wife. + +"I think you are right, Jadviga," said he. + +"Oh! I know I am," replied the Countess, bursting into a loud, +croaking, jarring fit of hysterical laughter. The Baron shuddered, +but the Countess laughed louder and ever louder, until the lofty room +resounded with that horrible, untimely merriment. + +And now, if you pass by the dreary and deserted old Yarnova Castle, +you will, perhaps, hear in the dead of the night those dreadful, +discordant peals of laughter, whilst the belated peasant who passes +by crosses himself devoutly on hearing that sound of fiendish mirth. + + +The southerly wind which had accompanied the _Giustizia di Dio_ to +Cape Salvore suddenly shifted, and a smacking northeasterly breeze +began to blow. The whole of that night was a most stormy one; still, +the ship bravely weathered the gale. At dawn the wind began to abate, +still the sea was very heavy. + +At about eight o'clock they perceived a ship, not only in distress, +but sinking fast. Milenko at once gave orders to reef the topsails +and tack about, so as to be able to approach the wreck, for the sea +was by far too heavy to allow them to use their boats. + +When they managed to get near enough to hear the shouts of the +starving crew, they found out that the sinking ship was the _Ave +Maria_, an Austrian barque. After much manoeuvring they got as close +to the stern of the sinking ship as they possibly could. Ropes were +then thrown across, so that the sailors might catch and tie them +around their bodies and jump into the sea. The weakest were first +helped to leap overboard, and then they were hauled into the +_Giustizia di Dio_, where they received all the help their state +required. + +Five men were thus saved, and then the two ships were driven apart by +the gale. A scene of despair at once ensued on board the _Ave Maria_, +which was sinking lower and lower. By dint of tacking about, the +_Giustizia di Dio_ was once more brought by the side of the wreck, +and then the captain and boatswain were saved; one of the men, who +was drunk, when about to be tied, reeled back to the wine, which, +apparently, was sweeter to him than life itself. + +Milenko, who had remained at the helm, now came to the prow. It was +just then that Vranic caught the rope that had been flung to him, and +tied it round his waist. He stood on the stern and was about to leap +into the foaming waves below. Milenko, who perceived him, uttered a +loud cry, almost a raucous cry of joy, just as mews do as they pounce +upon their prey. + +"Vranic at last!" said he. + +Vranic heard himself called; but, when he recognised his foe, it was +too late to keep back--he had already sprung into the sea. + +Milenko had snatched the rope from the hands of the sailor who had +thrown it. His first impulse was to cut the rope and leave his +friend's murderer to the mercy of the waves. + +Vranic, who had disappeared for an instant within the abyss of the +waters, was seen again, struggling in the midst of the whirling foam. +He looked up, and saw one of the _pobratim_ holding the rope. Milenko +remained for a moment undecided as to what he was to do. + +"Let me help you to pull up," said the boatswain. + +The young captain almost mechanically heaved up the rope, and was +astonished to find it so light. The rope came home; evidently it had +got undone, for Vranic was presently seen battling against the huge +billows, trying to regain the sinking ship. + +"What has happened?" + +"Did the rope get loose?" + +"Why did he not hold on?" + +"Why does he not try to catch it?" + +"Look, he is swimming back towards the wreck." + +"He must have cut the rope." + +These were the many exclamations of the astonished sailors. + +"Thank Heaven, he is guilty of his own blood," replied Milenko, "for +this is, after all, the justice of God." + +In fact, as soon as Vranic saw that it was Milenko himself who was +holding the rope that was tied round his waist, he pulled out the +black dagger that he always carried about him, and freed himself; +then he turned round and began to swim back towards the _Ave Maria_. +At the same time, a big wave came rolling over him; it uplifted and +dashed him against the sharp icicles hanging from the wrecked ship, +and which looked so many _chevaux de frise_. He tried to catch hold, +to cling to the frozen ropes, but they slipped from his grasp, and +the retreating surges carried him off and he disappeared for ever. + +The two vessels were parted once more, and Milenko, perceiving that +it was useless to remain there any longer and try and save the three +drunken sailors who had remained on board, thought it far more +advisable to proceed on to Trieste and send them help from there. + +When the _Giustizia di Dio_ reached Trieste, the storm had abated, +the wind had gone down, and the sea was almost calm. Help was at once +sent to the shipwrecked vessel, but, alas! all that could be seen of +the _Ave Maria_ was the utmost tops of her masts. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII + +THE WEDDING + + +Milenko had been most lucky in his voyages, and had reaped a golden +harvest. As steamers had not yet come into any practical use, and the +Adriatic trade was still a most prosperous one, ship-owners and +captains had a good time of it. In fact, his share of the profits was +such as to enable him to buy the ship on his own account. Still, now +that the _karvarina_ business was settled and Uros' death was +avenged, he did not care any more for a seafaring life; and, +moreover, his heart was at Nona with the girl he loved. + +The time he had been away had seemed to him everlastingly long, and, +besides, he had been all these months without any news from his +family. He was, therefore, overjoyed upon reaching Trieste to find a +whole packet awaiting him. + +The very first letter that caught his sight was one in a handwriting +which, although familiar, he could not recognise. Could it be from +Ivanka? Now that they were engaged, she, perhaps, had written to him; +still, it hardly seemed probable. Perhaps it was from Giulianic, for, +indeed, it was more of a man's than a woman's handwriting. Looking at +it closer, he thought, with a sigh, that if poor Uros were alive, he +would surely believe it came from him. At last he tore the letter +open. It began: + +"_Ljubi moj brati._" + +"Can it be possible," said Milenko to himself, "that Uros is still +alive?" + +He gave a glance at the signature; there was no more doubt about it, +the writer was Uros himself. In his joy, he pressed the letter to his +lips; then he ran over its contents, which were as follows: + + +"MY BELOVED BROTHER,--You will, doubtless, be very much surprised to +get this letter from me, as I do not think anybody has, as yet, +written to you; nor is it likely that you have met anyone from Budua +giving you our news. Therefore, as I think you believe me in my +coffin, it will be just like receiving a letter from beyond the +grave. Anyhow, if I am still alive, it is to you, my dear Milenko, +that I owe my life, nay, more than my life, my happiness. + +"The day you went away I remained for several hours in a +fainting-fit, just like a dead man. My heart had ceased to beat, my +limbs had grown stiff and cold; in fact, they say I was exactly like +a corpse. I think that, for a little while, I even lost the use of +all my senses. At last, when I came to myself, I could neither feel, +nor speak, nor move; I could only hear. I lived, as it were, rather +out of my body than within it. I heard weeping and wailing, and the +prayers for the dead were being said over me. My mother and Milena +were kissing my face and hands, and their tears trickled down on my +cold lips and eyelids. It was a moment of bitter anguish and +maddening terror. Should I lie stiff and stark, like a corpse, and +allow myself to be buried? The idea was so dreadful that it quite +paralysed me. I again, for a little while, lost all consciousness. +Little by little I recovered my senses; I could even open my eyes; I +uttered a few faint words. In fact, I was alive. From that moment I +began to recover my strength. In less than a fortnight I was able to +rise from my bed. From that day my mother's visits not only were +shorter, but Milena ceased to come. They told me that the monks had +objected to her presence. I was afraid this was an excuse, and, in +fact, I soon found out that she had been at the point of death, and, +as she was at our house now, my mother was taking care of her. Her +illness protracted my own, and my strength seemed once more to pass +away. But Milena returned to me, and soon afterwards I was able to +leave the convent. + +"Can I describe my happiness to you, friend of my heart? You yourself +will shortly be married to the girl you are fond of, and then you +will know all the bliss of loving and being loved. + +"But enough of this, for you will say that either my illness or my +stay in the convent has made me maudlin, sentimental--and, perhaps, +you will not be quite wrong. + +"Let me rather ask you, captain, how you have been faring, and on +what seas you have been tossing. Oh! how I long to hear from you, and +to see you. I hope you will soon be back amongst us, where a great +happiness is in store for you; but more than that I cannot say. + +"I sincerely trust you have not met with my enemy, and that your +hands are not stained with blood. God has dealt mercifully towards +me; He has raised me, as it were, from the dead. Let us leave that +wretched wanderer to his fate. Moreover, the first day I was able to +leave my cell I walked, or rather I should say I crawled, to church +to hear Mass. It was on Rose Sunday, which, as you know, is a week +after Easter, and the convent garden was in all its youthful beauty. +The priest recited the Scriptures for the day, and amongst the other +beautiful things that he read were these words, which seemed +addressed to me; they were: 'Vengeance is mine, saith the Lord.' +Hearing them in church, I almost fancied it was God Himself speaking; +and they made such an impression upon me, that I swore to forego all +thoughts of _karvarina_, feeling sure that the Almighty will, sooner +or later, keep the promise He made to me. + +"If I did not know you, my dear Milenko, I might imagine you saying +to yourself: 'His illness has crushed all manly spirit out of him.' +Still, I feel sure you will not say that of me. + +"How often I have been thinking of you, especially the day I left the +convent; and on my wedding-day my thoughts were more with you than at +home. + +"Have your ventures been prosperous? Anyhow, do not invest more money +in new ships, for our fathers have just bought a very large schooner. +It had been built for a ship-owner, who, having laid out more money +in his trade than he could afford, was only too glad to dispose of +it. The christening will take place as soon as you come back. Of +course, the name chosen is _The Pobratim_. + +"I do not write to you anything about your family, for your father +has written to you several times, although, by the letters we have +from you, none of them seem to have reached you as yet. "UROS." + + +Milenko hastened to open his father's letters, and he found there the +"happiness which was in store for him," to which Uros alluded, for +Bellacic wrote: + +"You will be surprised to hear that we have a new addition to our +circle of friends, a family you are well acquainted with. I do not +ask you to guess who these people are, for you would never do so. +Therefore, I shall tell you Giulianic has come to settle in Budua. +The country round Nona, which, as you know, is rather marshy and +consequently unhealthy, never agreed with any of them; for reasons +best known to themselves they have chosen Budua as their residence. I +had known Giulianic years ago, and I was very glad to renew his +acquaintance; your mother is greatly taken up with his daughter, who +seems to cling to her as to a mother. It appears that when Uros met +them last, he played some practical kind of joke upon them and +rendered himself rather obnoxious; but his marriage has settled the +matter to everybody's satisfaction, especially to Ivanka's, for she +and Milena are already great friends. I need not tell you how much +your mother longs to have you back." + +Milenko, after reading all his letters, could hardly master his +impatience any longer; a feeling of home-sickness oppressed him to +such a degree that, in his longing, he almost felt tempted to leave +his ship and run away. But as ill-luck would have it he could not +find a cargo either for Cattaro or Budua; therefore, having unloaded +his ship, he bought a cargo of timber, which then found a ready +market everywhere, and sailed at once for his native town. + +"The north-easterly wind 'll just last all the way out of the +Adriatic," said Janovic, the new boatswain they had engaged in +Trieste, "and we'll get to Budua in three days, so we'll have just +time to unload and go to Cattaro for the feast of San Trifone and the +grand doings of the _marinerezza_, that is, if the captain 'll give +us leave." + +"Oh, that 'll be delightful," replied Peric, "for I've not seen it +yet. What is it like?" + +"The feast of the _marinerezza_," said Janovic, sententiously, "is +more beautiful than any kind of pageantry I've seen; why, the +carnival of Benetke" (Venice), "the procession of _Corpus Domini_ in +Trst" (Trieste), "or the feast of the _Ramazan_, at Carigrad" +(Constantinople), "cannot be compared to it. So it's useless my +describing it to you; it's a thing you must see for yourself." + +Five days after their departure from Trieste, the _Giustizia di Dio_ +was casting her anchor in the roads of Budua. Although winter was not +yet over, spring seemed already to have set in; the sky was of a +fathomless blue, the sun was warm and of an effulgent brightness, the +brown almond-trees were covered with white blossoms; Nature had +already put on her festive garb. + +His two fathers, his brother of adoption, Giulianic, Danko Kvekvic, +and a host of friends, were waiting on the shore to welcome him back. +Then they accompanied him all in a body to his house. His mother, +Mara Bellacic and Milena were waiting for him on the threshold. +Presently, Giulianic went to fetch his wife and daughter. Ivanka came +trying to hide her blushes; nay, to appear indifferent and demure. In +front of so many people, Milenko himself felt awkward, and still +there was such a wistful, longing look of pent-up love in his +searching glances as he bashfully shook hands with her, that, in her +maidenly coyness, her eyelids drooped down, so that their long dark +lashes kissed her blushing cheeks. + +That day seemed quite a festivity for the little town. The _pobratim_ +had many friends; and besides, all the persons who had taken the +awful oath of the _karva tajstvo_ were anxious to know if Captain +Milenko had met Vranic during the many months that he had been away; +therefore, Markovic's house was, till late at night, always crowded +with people. + +When Milenko related to them how he had tried to save Vranic, and how +miserably the poor wretch had perished, everybody crossed himself +devoutly, and extolled the God of the Orthodox faith as the true God +of the _karvarina_. + +A few days after Milenko's arrival, his father went to Giulianic and +asked him for Ivanka's hand. + +"I am only too happy to give her to the man of her choice," said +Giulianic, "for although I had, indeed, accepted Uros for my +son-in-law, still I did so only in mistake. Not only was it Milenko +who first gallantly exposed his life to save us, but Ivanka, as she +confessed to her mother, fell in love with him the very moment she +awoke from her fainting-fit and found herself in his arms. Of course, +she ought never to have done so, for no proper girl ought ever to +fall in love but with the man chosen by her parents; still, young +people are young people all the world over, you know," said +Giulianic, apologisingly. + +After that, the fathers discussed the dower, and the mothers talked +about the outfit, the kitchen utensils, and the furnishing of the +house. + +Then followed a month of perfect bliss. During that time, they went +occasionally to look after the schooner, which was being fitted up +with far more luxury than sailing ships usually were; they visited +their fields and their vineyards; but most of their time was spent in +merry-making. + +One day they all went on a pilgrimage to the Convent of St. George, +where they left rich gifts to the holy caloyers for Uros' recovery; +another day they visited the famous subterranean chapel of Pod-Maini, +adorned with beautiful Byzantine frescoes. They also showed Ivanka +the tower where Boskovic, the great magician, lived; but she, being a +stranger, had never heard of him; and so they told her that he was an +astrologer who possessed a telescope with which he read all the names +of the stars. + +Another time they went for a sail on the blue, translucent waters, +and Milenko showed his bride that high rock jutting over the sea, +which is situated half-way between Castel Lastua and Castel Stefano, +and known as the Skoce Djevojka (The Young Girl's Leap). + +"Did a young girl jump down from that height?" asked Ivanka, +shuddering. + +"Yes. She was a young girl of exceeding beauty, from the neighbouring +territory of Pastiovic, and to escape from a Turk who was pursuing +her she threw herself down into the abyss beneath. But I'll tell you +her story at full length some other time." + +Although the hand of time seemed to move very slowly, still the month +of courtship came to an end. Now all the preparations for the wedding +were ready, for the nuptials were to be solemnised with great pomp +and splendour. + +On the morning of that eventful day, everyone connected with the +wedding had risen at daybreak to attend to the numerous preparations +required. The principal room in Giulianic's house had been cleared of +all the furniture, so as to make room for the breakfast table, which +was to be spread there. At that early hour, already the lady of the +house was presiding over the women in the kitchen, who were cooking a +number of young lambs and kids, roasting huge pieces of beef, +numberless fowls on spits, or baking _pojace_ (unleavened bread) on +heated stones. + +The men, as a rule, fussed about, creating much confusion, as men +usually do on such occasions. They fidgeted and worried lest +everything should not be ready in time. They delayed everything, and, +moreover, kept wanting and asking for all kinds of impossible things. +The barbers' shops were all crowded. At a certain hour--when the +bridegroom was expected--a number of people had gathered round about +the house to see him come. At the gate, for Giulianic's villa was out +of the town walls, two sentinels were placed to keep watch. The elder +was Zwillievic, Milena's father, who had come from Montenegro for the +purpose; tall and stalwart, with his huge moustache and his +glittering weapons at his belt, he was a fierce guard, indeed. The +other was Lilic, only a youth, who for self-defence had but a strong +stick. + +Both of them were very merry, withal they seemed to be expecting some +powerful foe against whose assault they were well prepared. The +youth, especially, was so full of his mission, that he hardly dared +to take any notice of the loungers who crowded thereabouts. + +At last there was a bustle, and the guards were on the alert. + +"Here they are, here they are!" shouted the children. + +The persons expected were in sight, and, except for their rich +festive attire, they looked, indeed, as if they were bent upon some +predatory expedition, so manly and warlike was their gait. + +The persons expected were about twelve in number; that is to say, the +bridegroom and his followers--the _svati_, or knights. + +Milenko wore the beautiful dress of the Kotor. Like his train, he had +splendid bejewelled daggers and pistols stuck in his leather girdle, +and a gun slung across his shoulder. + +They all walked gravely, two by two, up to the garden-gate of +Giulianic's house; there they were stopped by the sentinels. + +"Who are you?" said Zwillievic. "Who are you, who, armed to the +teeth, dare to come up to this peaceful dwelling?" + +"We are," answered the _voivoda_, the head of the _svati_, "all men +from this beautiful town of Budua." + +"And what is your motive for coming here?" + +"We are in search of a beautiful bird that inhabits this +neighbourhood." + +"And what do you wish to do with the beautiful bird?" + +"We wish to take it away with us." + +"And supposing you succeeded in finding it, are you clever enough to +capture it?" + +"All men of the Kotor are clever hunters," answered the _voivoda_, +proudly, and showing Milenko. "This one is the cleverest of all." + +"If you are not only clever in words, show us your skill." + +An old red cap was brought forth and placed upon a stone--it +represented the allegorical bird--and the young men fired at it. As +almost all of them were excellent marksmen, the cap was soon +afterwards but a burning rag. + +Having thus shown their skill, they were allowed to enter within the +yard, where more questioning took place. At the door of the house +they were met by Giulianic and his wife, by whom they were +cross-examined for the last time. + +Having once more proved themselves to be a party of honest hunters, +they were all welcomed and allowed to go into the house to see if +they could find the beautiful bird. + +The _svati_ were led into the principal room, where the table was +laid, and there begged to sit down and partake of some refreshments. +All the young men sat down, each one according to his rank, all +keeping precisely the same order as they had done in marching. + +Milenko alone did not join his friends at table, for he had at once +gone off in search of the allegorical bird. The breakfast having at +last reached its end, and the company seeing that, apparently, the +hunter had not been very fortunate in his search, two of the +_svati_--the _bariactar_ and the _ciaus_--volunteered to go to his +assistance; and soon afterwards they reappeared, bringing back with +them the beautiful, blushing girl decked out in her wedding attire. +Her clothes were of red velvet, brocade and satin, richly embroidered +in gold, heirlooms which had been in the family for, perhaps, more +than a century, and worn by the grandmother and the mother on similar +occasions. + +For the first time Ivanka now appeared without her red cap, which in +Dalmatia is only worn by girls as the badge of maidenhood. Her long +tresses formed a natural coronet; they were interwoven with ribbons +of many colours, and adorned with sprays of fresh flowers. + +A universal shout greeted her appearance, and when the +congratulations came to an end, the bride got ready to leave her +home. Before going away she went to receive her father's blessing; +then her mother clasped her in her arms and kissed her repeatedly. +Then, after having expressed her wishes for her future happiness in +homely though pathetic words, she reminded her of her duties as a +wife and as a bride. + +"Remember, my daughter," said she, "that you must love your husband +as the turtle-dove loves her mate, for the poor bird pines away and +dies in widowhood rather than be unfaithful. Milenko might have many +defects--what man is perfect?--but you should be the first to +extenuate them, the last to proclaim them to the world; moreover, +whatever be his conduct to you, bear in mind that you must never +render evil for evil. The heart of a man is moved by patience and +long-suffering, just as huge rocks are moved by drops of rain falling +from the sky. When a husband comes back to his senses, then he is +grateful to his wife, and cherishes her more than before." + +Ivanka was afterwards reminded of her duties to her near relations, +for, in those times, and amongst those primitive people, the wit of a +nation did not consist in turning mothers-in-law into ridicule. + +She then finished her short speech, drawing tears, not only from her +daughter, but even from the eyes of many a swarthy, long-whiskered +bystander. + +Before starting, however, another ceremony had to be performed. It +was that of taking possession of the chest containing all the bride's +worldly goods, and on which were displayed the beautiful presents the +bride had received. Amongst these were, as usual, two distaffs and a +spindle, for spinning had not yet entirely gone out of fashion. +Still, these were only the signs of the bride's industry. + +A little imp of a boy, + + "Hardi comme un coq sur son propre fumier," + +was seated on the chest, and he kept a strict watch over it. He had +been told to fight whosoever attempted to lay hands on it, and he, +therefore, took his part seriously. He scratched, bit, kicked and +pummelled all those who attempted to come near it. At last, having +received some cakes and a piece of silver money, he was induced to +give up the trunk to the _svati_, who carried it off. + +The bride then left the house amongst the shouting and the firing of +the multitude, and the whole train, walking two by two, proceeded to +church. + +Lilic and Zwillievic likewise joined the train, for now that the bird +had flown away from the nest their task was over. + +As they walked along together, the youth said to the old man: + +"I am sorry for poor Milenko, after all." + +"Why?" asked Zwillievic. + +"Eh! because Ivanka 'll bury him." + +"How do you know that?" quoth the Montenegrin, astonished. + +"Because, you see, Ivanka's name has an even number of letters; +therefore, she'll outlive her husband." + +"I see," replied Zwillievic; "I had never thought of that." + +After the lengthy Orthodox service, and its chorographic-like +evolutions, Danilo Kvekvic made a short speech to the newly-married +couple, whom he blessed, and then the wedding ceremony came to an +end. + +The nuptial party finally arrived at Milenko's house, followed by an +ever-increasing crowd, and when the shouting and the firing began +anew, the whole town knew that the bride had arrived at her new home. + +Ivanka was received at the door of Milenko's house by his father and +mother, and there, after the usual welcome, she was presented with +two distaffs, two spindles, and a baby-boy, borrowed for the +occasion. The child is to remind her that she is expected to be the +mother of many boys, for children are still, in Dalmatia, considered +as blessings. + +Here, also, the principal apartment had been cleared of all its +furniture to make room for the wedding table. At this feast, the +givers being people who had seen a great deal of the world and who +had adopted new-fangled ideas, married women were also invited. + +The banquet, if not exactly choice, was certainly copious, and it +reminded one more of the grand Homeric feasts than the modern +dinner-parties. It was composed chiefly of huge dishes of rice, whole +lambs roasted, fish and fowl; and it was a great joy for the givers +of the feast to see that host of friends eating with a good appetite +and enjoying themselves. + +Before they had sat down a _dolibasa_, or head-drinker, had been +chosen. His functions corresponded, in some degree, with those of the +symposiarch of the ancient Greeks. He now presided over the table as +an autocrat, and ordered the number of toasts which he thought fit +should be drunk. + +No sooner had they sat down than the _dolibasa_ uttered a loud +"_Zivio!_" in honour of the beautiful bride; pistols were fired, and +forthwith all the guests emptied their glasses. The ladies, however, +were excluded from the drinking, for, whenever a "Hip, hip, hurrah!" +was uttered, the guests had to drain the contents of their tumblers, +and not simply to lift them up to their lips, or, at most, sip a few +drops of the wine. As for the poor wretch who could not comply with +the _dolibasa_'s orders, he had to leave the table, and some +humiliating punishment was invented for him. + +As the feast lasted for several days, the dinner did not really come +to an end at once. The eating and drinking were, however, interrupted +for a short time by the _Kolo_, which took place in the yard, +festively decorated with lanterns, flags and greenery. The ball, of +course, was opened by Ivanka and Milenko. The _Kolo_ they danced this +time was the graceful _skocci-gorri_, or the jumping step, which is +something like a _Varsovienne_, only that the couples, instead of +clasping hands, dance it holding the ends of a twisted kerchief. + +As the newly-married couple danced, the _bariactar_, or flag-bearer, +followed every step they made, waving his banner, holding a decanter +of wine upon his head, and performing behind them various antics to +amuse the crowd. + +When the _Kolo_ had lasted long enough--for, as the proverb says, +"Even a fine dance wearies"--the bride and bridegroom retired into +the house, and eating and drinking began again with renewed mirth. At +last, when the merriment had become uproarious, the young couple rose +and left the table. They went and knelt down before Janko Markovic, +who blessed them, holding a small loaf of bread over their heads; +then, having given it to them, he bade them begone, in the name of +God. + +They were then accompanied to their bridal chamber by Uros and +Milena, who helped them to undress, though, according to the +traditional custom, this office belonged to the _voivoda_, the +_bariactar_, and several of the other _svati_. + +The _dolibasa_ thereupon uttered a loud "_Zivio!_" which was echoed +by everyone in the room, and bumpers were again quaffed down. + +The _bariactar_ thereupon made some appropriate and spicy jokes, the +_svati_ did their best to outwit him, the youths winked at the girls, +who tried to blush and look demure. + +The music played, the _guzlars_ sang an epithalamium, to which +everyone present joined in chorus. At last the _voivoda_ and the +principal _svati_ went and knocked at the door of the bridal chamber, +and asked the hunter to relate his adventures and his success. Then +the proofs of the _consummatum est_ having been brought forth, +pistols, blunderbusses, and guns were fired, to announce the happy +event to the whole town, and the drinking began again. + +Eight days of festivities ensued, during which time--although the +eating and drinking continued in the same way--the scene varied from +one house to the other. + +At last, the new ship being christened and launched, it was soon +rigged out, all decked with flags and streamers. Then Milenko and +Uros embarked with their wives, delighted at the prospect of seeing +something of the world. On a beautiful May morning the white sails +were unfurled, the anchor was heaved, and the beautiful vessel began +to glide slowly on the smooth, glassy waters, like a snowy swan. The +crowd gathered on the beach fired off their pistols and shouted with +joy. The women waved their handkerchiefs. + +Soon, nothing more was seen but a dim speck in the grey distance. +Then the crowd wended their way homewards, for they had seen the last +of the _pobratim_. + +THE END. + + +H. S. NICHOLS, PRINTER, 3, SOHO SQUARE, LONDON, W. + + + + +Transcriber's Changes: + +Chapter 1 + +Uros and Milenko, therefore, begged the good old woman +was originally +Ivo and Milenko, therefore, begged the good old woman + + +Chapter 2 + +"Oh, I see, you don't want to tell me; +was originally +"Oh, I see, you dont want to tell me; + +your wife is honest," +was originally +your wife is honest,' + +The bard thereupon scraped his _guzla_, +was originally +The bard thereupon scraped his _guzlar_, + +and stop him on his way. Uros in the meanwhile took to his heels. +was originally +and stop him on his way Uros in the meanwhile took to his heels. + +stop talking," said Radonic, sullenly. +was originally +stop talking," said Radonic, sullenly, + + +Chapter 3 + +the yule-log, the huge bole of an olive tree, +was originally +the yule-log, the huge bowl of an olive tree, + +Whilst their own curses were their only knell! +was originally +Whilst their owh curses were their only knell! + + +Chapter 4 + +related to his hosts the story of his adventures, +was originally +related to his guests the story of his adventures, + +"'I thought you were a Slav; +was originally +"I thought you were a Slav; + + +Chapter 6 + +Once she is in my stronghold of Stermizza +was originally +Once she is in my stronghold of Sternizza + +"The father looked at his child, astonished. +was originally +The father looked at his child, astonished. + +"Sare heaved a deep sigh of relief. +was originally +Sare heaved a deep sigh of relief. + + +Chapter 7 + +and other such omens of ill-luck. +was originally +and other such omens o ill-luck. + + +I can tell you; will you have some more?' +was originally +I can tell you; will you have some more? + +You hear, madam? you hear, darling? +was originally +You hear, madam? you hear darling? + + +Chapter 8 + +I have lulled all his suspicions, +was originally +I have lulled all his susspicions, + + "'Tis well, +But on the holy Cross now take an oath." +was originally + "'Tis well, +"But on the holy Cross now take an oath." + +Then, waking up as from some frightful dream: +was originally +Then, waking up as from some frightful dream . + +"Here," said Bellacic, "have a glass +was originally +"Here," said Bellacic. "have a glass + +"There! listen," said he, staring vacantly; "did you not hear?" +was originally +"There! listen, said he," staring vacantly; "did you not hear?" + +"I heard a loud voice; didn't you hear it?" +was originally +"I heard a loud voice; did'nt you hear it?" + + +Chapter 10 + +"I was marvelled to hear how you fell in with the Giulianics, +was originally +"I was marvelled to hear how you fell in with the Giulanics, + +not having heard of the Giulianics for so many years, +was originally +not having heard of the Giulanics for so many years, + + +Chapter 12 + +Milenko was set free, the _pobratim_ set sail +was originally +Milenko was set free the _pobratim_ set sail + +about whom Captain Panajotti had often spoken +was originally +about whom Captain Vassili had often spoken + +I told you I'd not brook contradiction to-day. +was originally +I told you I'd not brook contradiction to day. + +Milos Bellacic, I'm quite satisfied." +was originally +Milos Bellacic, I'm quite satisfied.' + + +Chapter 13 + +she would have to keep away from the sight +was originally +she would have keep to away from the sight + + +Chapter 15 + +Sit down and rest," said she, "and let me give you +was originally +Sit down and rest," said she, and let me give you + + + +Chapter 18 + +turning to Milenko +was originally +turning to Milos + +And then he said: "My daughter, as thy suite, +was originally +And then he said: "My daughter as thy suite, + +And as she crossed the squares, the crowded streets, +was originally +And as she crossed the squares, the crowded streets + +As well as every lady of her suite, +was originally +As well as every lady of her suite + +She hastened to reply unto the saint, +was originally +She hastened to reply unto the saint + + +Chapter 19 + +young man"--pointing to Milenko--"were also +was originally +young man--pointing to Milenko--"were also + +I, Milenko Markovic, his _pobratim_; +was originally +I, Milos Markovic, his _pobratim_; + + +Chapter 21 + +at least three times what he would have asked +was originally +as least three times what he would have asked + +That evening they made a hearty meal, +was originally +"That evening they made a hearty meal, + + +Chapter 22 + +seated by a newly-dug grave?" +was originally +seated by a newly dug-grave?" + +the Count was to call on the Ambassadress +was originally +the Count was to call on the Ambrssadress + +for a few weeks afterwards we were married." +was originally +for a few week's afterwards we were married." + +"After some years the Count died, +was originally +"After some years the Baron died, + + +Chapter 23 + +Danilo Kvekvic made a short speech to the newly-married couple +was originally +Danilo Kvekvic made a short speech to the newly-married coupled + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Pobratim, by P. 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