The Pobratim: A Slav Novel. Jones P.
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 thebadnji-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,