The Pobratim Part 61

"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 h.e.l.l myself, and it was a pity I didn't; anyhow, I was so glad when I heard that Radonic had----"

"Hus.h.!.+ 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.