The Pobratim Part 35

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 hara.s.sed 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.