The Pobratim: A Slav Novel

by P. Jones

  CHAPTER XX

  "SPERA IN DIO"

  After the ceremony of the _karva tajstvo_, all the men who had takenpart in it met together at Janko Markovic's house, so as to come to adecision as to what they were to do in their endeavours to capturethe murderer. All the information that had been got in Budua aboutVranic helped to show that he had embarked on board of an Italianship, the _Diana_, which had sailed the evening of the murder. Ifthis were the case, nothing could be done for the present but waitpatiently till they could come across him, the communications betweenBudua and Naples being few and far between.

  "Well," said Milenko, "I'll sail at dawn for Trieste. It is one ofthe 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 towhich she might be destined, and I must really be very unlucky not tocome 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 hidingsomewhere 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 ofthe _karva tajstvo_.

  At the first glimmer of dawn, Milenko bade his mother farewell andasked her to kiss Mara and Milena for him; then, receiving hisfather's blessing, and accompanied by all his friends, he left homeand went to the ship.

  All the cargo had been taken on board several days before, the paperswere in due order, and the ship was now ready to start at a moment'snotice.

  No sooner had Milenko got on board than the sleeping crew was roused,the sails were stretched, the anchor was heaved, and the ship beganto glide on the smooth surface of the waters.

  "_Srecno hodi_" (a pleasant voyage), shouted the friends, applaudingon 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. Aheaviness came over him as his eyes rested on a white speck gleamingamidst the surrounding dark rocks. It was the Convent of St. George,where, in his mind's eye, he could see his dearly beloved Uros lyingstill 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 havewaited 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 feltso sad in quitting Budua. He almost fancied now his heart was reft intwo, and that the better part had remained behind with his friend.Not even the thought of Ivanka, whom he so dearly loved, couldcomfort him. A sailor's life--which had hitherto had such a charm forhim while his friend was on board the same ship with him--now lostall its attraction, and if he had not been prompted by his cravingfor revenge, he would have taken the ship to Trieste (where she wasbound to), and there, having sold his share, he would have gone backto Budua.

  The days seemed endless to him. The crew of the ship, althoughcomposed of Dalmatians, was almost of an alien race; they were fromthe island of Lussin, and Roman Catholics besides--in fact, quitedifferent people from the inhabitants of Budua or the Kotor; and, hadit not been for a youth whom he had embarked with him from his nativetown, he would have scarcely spoken to anyone the whole of thevoyage, 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, forMilenko, Peric--the youth he had taken with him to teach himnavigation--was a rather intelligent lad, and, as it was the firsttime he had left home, he was somewhat homesick, so, in their momentsof despondency, each one tried to cheer and comfort the other.

  In the night--keeping watch on deck--he would often, as in hischildhood, lean over the side of the ship and look within the fastflowing waters. When the sea was as smooth and as dark as a metalmirror, he--after gazing in it for some time--usually saw the waterget hazy and whitish; then, little by little, strange sights appearand disappear. Some of them were prophetic visions. Once, he sawwithin the waters a frigate on fire. It was, indeed, a sight worthseeing. The vision repeated itself three times. Milenko, feelingrather anxious, began to look around, and then he saw a faint lightfar on the open sea. There was no land or island there. Could thatlight, he asked himself, be that of a ship on fire? He at once gaveorders to steer in the direction of the light. As the distancediminished, the brightness grew apace. The flames, that could now beseen rising up in the sky, made the men believe that it was some newsubmarine volcano. Milenko, however, felt that his vision had beenprophetic.

  He added more sails; and, as the breeze was favourable, the _Spera inDio_ flew swiftly on the waters. Soon he could not only see theflames, but the hulk of the ship, which looked like a burning island;moreover, the cargo must have been either oil or resin, for the seaitself seemed on fire.

  In the glare the conflagration shed all around, Milenko perceived asmall boat struggling hard to keep afloat, for it was so over-crowdedthat, at every stroke of the oars, it seemed about to sink.

  The joy of that shipwrecked crew, finding themselves safe on boardthe _Spera in Dio_, was inexpressible.

  Another time he saw, within the sea, the country beyond the walls ofhis native town. A boy of about ten was leading an old horse in thefields. After some time, the boy seemed to look for some stump onwhich 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 awokeand tried to rise, but he stumbled and fell. His screams evidentlyfrightened the old horse, which ran faster and ever faster, draggingthe poor boy through the bushes and briars, dashing him against thestones of the roadside. When, at last, the horse was stopped, the boywas 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 thatthe poor boy must have died."

  "Strange!" quoth Milenko, as he walked away, not to be questioned asto his vision.

  One evening, when the moon had gone below the horizon looking like areaping-hook steeped in blood, and nothing could be seen all aroundbut the broad expanse of the dark waters, reflecting the tiny starstwinkling in the sky above, Milenko saw, all at once, the white wallsof St. George's Convent. The doors, usually shut, were now opened.Uros appeared on the threshold. There he received the blessing of theold monk who had tended him during his illness, and whose hands henow kissed with even more affection and thankfulness than devotion;then, hugged and kissed by all the other caloyers, who had got to beas 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 wasstill thin and pale, but all traces of suffering had disappeared fromhis face. Though he and Milena were man and wife--having been married_in extremis_--still they were lovers, and his weakness was aplausible pretext to lean lovingly on her arm, and stop every now andthen to look lovingly within her lustrous eyes, and thus give vent tothe passion that lay heavy on his heart; and once, when his parentshad disappeared behind a corner, he stopped, put his arm round herwaist, then their lips met in a long, silent kiss, which brought theblood up to their cheeks. Then the picture faded, and the waters wereagain as black as night; only, his ears whistled, and he almostfancied he could hear Uros' voice in a distance speaking of him.

  Of course, Milenko knew that all this was but a delusion, a dream, ahallucination of his fancy, and he tried to think of his friend lyingstiff 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 threeweeks after he had left Budua, one evening, when sad and gloomy, hewas thinking of Uros' funeral, to which he now regretted not to haveremained and assisted, he saw, within the depths of the dark bluesea, Bellacic's house adorned as for a great festivity. Not only wasa banquet prepared; _guzlars_ played on their instruments, and guestsarrived in holiday attire, but Uros, who had almost regained hisformer good looks, was, in his dress of the Kotor, as handsome as a_Macic_. Milena, as beautiful as when, in bridal attire, she had comefrom Montenegro, was standing by his side. Soon Danilo Kvekvic came,wearing a rich stole. The guests lighted the tapers they wereholding; wreaths were placed on Milena's and Uros' heads. This wasthe wedding ceremony that would have taken place had Uros recoveredfrom his wound, and of which Milenko had certainly not been thinking.

  Milenko at last reached Trieste, where he found a letter waiting forhim. The news it contained would have made his heart beat rapidlywith joy had Uros only been with him. Now, reading this letter, heonly heaved a deep sigh. It was almost a sigh of forlorn hope. Fatebut too often, whilst granting us a most coveted boon, seems to feela malicious pleasure either in disappointing us entirely, or, atleast, in blunting the edge of our joy. This letter was fromGiulianic, who, having redeemed his pledge from his friend Bellacic,was now but too glad to have him for his son-in-law. Moreover, heurged him to come over to Nona.

  Nothing, indeed, prevented Milenko from consigning the ship to thecaptain, who was waiting for him at Trieste, and selling his share ofthe brig. Still, he could not think of doing so, or engaging himself,or settling any time for his marriage before Uros' death had beenavenged. He, therefore, wrote at once to Giulianic, thanking him forhis kindness to him, stating, nevertheless, the reasons which obligedhim to postpone his marriage until the vows of the _karvarina_ hadbeen fulfilled.

  At Trieste, Milenko found out that the _Diana_, the ship on whichVranic was embarked, was a Genoese brig, usually sailing to and fromthe Adriatic and the Levant ports; occasionally, she would come asfar as Trieste or Venice, usually laden with boxes of oranges andlemons, and sail back with a cargo of timber. It would have been easyenough to have him apprehended by one of the Austrian consuls in theports 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 theship, saying that, far from coming to take charge of the ship, he wasinclined to sell his share; and Milenko, who was very anxious to befree and to sail for those ports where he might easier come acrossthe _Diana_, bought the other half, and soon afterwards, havingmanaged to get a cargo of timber for Pozzuoli, he set sail withoutdelay, hoping to be in time to catch Vranic in Naples.

  Not far from the rocky island of Melada, which the Dalmatians say isthe Melita of the Scriptures, the _Spera in Dio_ met with very stormyweather and baffling winds. Thereabouts one rough and cloudy night,when not only Milenko but almost all the men were on deck, they allat once saw a ship looming in the darkness at a short distance fromthem. The captain had either forgotten to hoist a light, or else hadlet it go out. When they perceived that dark shadow, only a littledarker than the surrounding night, they did their utmost to steer outof her way. The other ship likewise seemed to try and tack about, butdriven as she was by a strong head-wind, it was quite impossible tomake 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 hadunexpectedly 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 topour in through the huge cleft.

  Some of the sailors managed to climb up the other ship; most of thecrew clung to the timber with which the ship was laden. Milenkoremained on the sinking wreck until dawn.

  The other ship--an Italian schooner--cruised about, and tried toremain as much as she possibly could on the same spot, till early inthe morning, so as to pick up all the men of the wreck. Three of thecrew, however, must have been washed away, for they were not seenanywhere, or ever afterwards heard of.

  The schooner, that had been also considerably damaged, sailed toTrieste as well as she could. Fortunately for Milenko, the _Spera inDio_ had been insured for more than her value, and happening to findanother ship for sale, the _Giustizia di Dio_, he bought it, and, onthe whole, made a very good bargain. He soon got another cargo forNaples, and, a month after his return, he once more sailed in searchof Vranic.