The Pobratim Part 7

"Do you want me to bring you something from abroad--a looking-gla.s.s 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 ap.r.o.n 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 pa.s.sed and repa.s.sed 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?"