The Pobratim Part 56

Radonic had never been much of a favourite amongst his fellow countrymen, for he was of an unsociable, surly, overbearing disposition; still, from the day he had killed Vranic public opinion began to change in his behalf. A man gifted with an evil eye is a baleful being, whom everyone dreads meeting--a real curse in a town, for a number of the daily accidents and trivial misfortunes were ascribed to the malign influence of his visual organs. It was, therefore, but natural that Radonic should, tacitly, be looked upon as a kind of deliverer. Besides this unavowed feeling of relief at having been rid of the _jettatore_, no one could feel any pity for Vranic; for even the more indifferent could only shrug their shoulders, and mutter to themselves, "Serve him right," for he had only met with the fate he had deserved.

As for Radonic, he daily grew in the general esteem. There is something manly in the life of a highwayman who, with his gun, stops a whole caravan, or asks for bread, his dagger in his hand. It is a reversion to the old type of prehistoric man. But, more than a highwayman, Radonic was a _heyduk_, fighting against the Turks, and putting his life in jeopardy at every step he made.

For a man of Radonic's frame of mind, there was something enticing in the life he was leading; struggles and storms seemed congenial to his nature. On board his s.h.i.+p he would only cast away his sullenness when danger was approaching, and hum a tune in the midst of the tempest; in fact, he only seemed to breathe at ease when a stiff gale was blowing.

He arrived at Cettinje on the eve of an expedition against the Turks, just when every man that could bear a gun was welcome, especially when he made no claim to a share of the booty. Having reached the confines of Montenegro, amidst those dark rocks, in that eyrie of the brave, having the sky for his roof and his gun for a pillow, life for the first time seemed to him worth living. He did not fear death --nay, he almost courted it. He felt no boding cares for the morrow; the present moment was more than enough for him. Though he lacked entirely all the softness of disposition that renders social life agreeable, he had in him some of the qualities of a hero, or, at least, of a great military chief--boldness, hardihood and valour.

During the whole of his lifetime he had always tried to make himself feared, never loved. He cared neither for the people's admiration nor for their disdain; he only required implicit obedience to orders given. With such a daring, unflinching character, he soon acquired a name that spread terror whenever it was uttered; and in a skirmish that took place a week after his arrival at Cettinje, he killed a Turkish chieftain, cut off his head, and sent it, by a prisoner he had taken, to the _Pasha_ of the neighbouring province, informing this official that he would, if G.o.d granted him life, soon treat him in the same way. A high sum was at once set upon his head, but it was an easier thing to offer the prize than to obtain it.

Radonic would have been happy enough now, had he not been married, or, at least, if he had been wedded to a woman who loved him, and who would have welcomed him home after a day's, or a week's, hard fighting--who would have mourned for him had he never come back; but, alas! he knew that Milena hated him. Roaming in the lonely forests, climbing on the trackless mountains, lurking amidst the dark rocks and crags, his heart yearned for the wife he had ill-treated.

A month, and even more, had elapsed since Vranic had been murdered.

Zwillievic, his father-in-law, had been in Budua, and he had then come back to Cettinje; but, far from bringing Milena with him, he had left his wife there to take care of this daughter of his, who, in the state in which she was, had never recovered from the terrible shock she had received on that morning when she stumbled upon Vranic's corpse.

All kinds of doubts again a.s.sailed him, and jealousy, that had always been festering in his breast, burst out afresh, fiercer than ever; it preyed again upon him, embittered his life. After all, was it not possible that Milena was only shamming simply not to come to Cettinje? Perhaps, he thought, one of the many young men who had tried to flirt with her, was now at Budua making love to her.

He, therefore, made up his mind to brave the _pamdours_ (the Austrian police), to meet with the anger of Vranic's brothers, just to see Milena again, and find out how she fared, and what she was doing. He, one evening, started from Cettinje, went down the steep road leading to the sea-sh.o.r.e, got to the gates of the town at nightfall, and, wrapped in his great-coat, with his hood pulled down over his eyes, he crossed the town and reached his house.

He stopped at the window and looked in; Milena was nowhere to be seen. He was seized by a dreadful foreboding--what if he had come too late? Two women were standing near the door of the inner room, talking. He, at first, could hardly recognise them by the glimmering light of the oil-lamp; still, after having got nearer the window, he saw that one of them was Mara Bellacic, and the other his mother-in-law.

He then went to the door, tapped gently, and pushed it open; seeing him, both the women started back astonished.

His first question was, of course, about his wife. She was a little better, they said, but still very ill.

"She is asleep now. You can come in and see her, but take care not to wake her," added Milena's mother.

"Yes," quoth Mara, "take care, for should she wake and see you so unexpectedly, the shock might be fatal."

Radonic went noiselessly up to the door of the bedroom and peeped in.

Seeing Milena lying motionless on the bed, pale, thin and haggard, he was seized with a feeling of deep pity, such as he had never felt before in the whole of his life, and he almost cursed the memory of his mother, for she had been the first to set him against his wife, and had induced him to be so stern and harsh towards her.

He skulked about that night, and on the following day he sent for Bellacic, for Markovic, and for some kinsmen and acquaintances, and asked them to help him out of his difficulties. They at once persuaded him to try and make it up with Vranic's relations, to pay the _karvarina_ money, and thus hush up the whole affair.

While public opinion was favourable to him, it would be easy enough to find several persons to speak in his behalf, to act as mediators or umpires, and settle the price to be paid for the blood that had been spilt.

Although the Montenegrins and the inhabitants of the Kotar, as well as almost all Dalmatians, are--like the Corsicans--justly deemed a proud race, amongst whom every wrong must be washed out with blood, and although they all have a strong sense of honour, so that revenge becomes a sacred duty, jealously transmitted from one generation to another, still the old Biblical way of settling all litigations with fines, and putting a price for the loss of life, is still in full force amongst them.

In the present case Vranic's brothers were quite willing to come to a compromise, that is to say, to give up all thoughts of vengeance, provided, after all the due formalities had taken place, an adequate sum were paid to them. First, they had never been fond of their brother; secondly, they knew quite well that Radonic was fully justified in what he had done, and that, moreover, everybody commended him for his rash deed; thirdly, having inherited their brother's property, the little sorrow they had felt for him the first moment had quite pa.s.sed away.

Markovic and Bellacic set themselves to work at once. Their first care was to find six young and, possibly, handsome women, with six babes, who, acting as friends to Radonic, would go to Vranic's brothers and intercede for him.

It was rather a difficult task, for Radonic had few friends at Budua.

All the sailors that had been with him had not only rued the time spent on his s.h.i.+p, but had been enemies to him ever afterwards. He had married a wife from Montenegro, envied for her beauty, and not much liked by the gentler s.e.x. Milena had been too much admired by men for women to take kindly to her; still, as she was now on a bed of sickness, and all her beauty blasted, envy had changed into pity.

After no end of trouble, many promises of silk kerchiefs, yards of stuff for dresses, or other trifles, six rather good-looking women, and the same number of chubby babies, were mustered, and, on a day appointed for the purpose, they were to go, together with Markovic and Bellacic, to sue for peace.

In the meanwhile Radonic had stealthily called on a number of persons, had invited them to drink with him, related to them the number of Turks he had shot, and by sundry means managed to dispose them in his favour. They, by their influence, tried to pacify the Vranic family, and a month's truce was granted to Radonic, during which time the preliminaries of peace were undertaken.

At last, after many consultations and no end of smooth talking, the day for the ceremony of the _karvarina_ was fixed upon. Markovic and Bellacic, together with the six women, carrying their babes and followed by a crowd of spectators, went up to Vranic's house. As soon as they got to the door, the women fell down on their knees, bowing down their heads, and, whilst the babes began to shriek l.u.s.tily, the men called out, in a loud voice:

"Vranic, our brother in G.o.d and in St. John, we greet you! Take pity on us, and allow us to come within your house."

Having repeated this request three times--during which the women wailed and the babies shrieked always louder--the door at last was opened, and the murdered man's two younger brothers appeared on the threshold.

Though all the household had been for more than two hours on the look-out for this emba.s.sy, still the two men put on an astonished look, as if they had not the remotest idea as to what it all meant, or why or wherefore the crowd had gathered round their house.

Standing on the threshold they inquired of the men what they wanted, after which they went and, taking every woman by the hand, made her get up; then, imprinting a kiss on every howling babe, they tried to soothe and quiet it. This ceremony over, the women were begged to enter the house and be seated. Once inside, Bellacic, acting as chief intercessor, handed to the Vranics six yards of fine cloth which Radonic had provided him with, this being one of the customary peace offerings. Then, taking a big bottle of plum brandy from the hands of one of his attendants, he poured out a gla.s.s and offered it to the master of the house; the gla.s.s went round, and the house soon echoed with the shouts of "_Zivio!_" or "Long life!" and the merriment increased in the same ratio as the spirits in the huge bottle decreased.

When everybody was in a boisterous good-humour--except the two Vranics, for strong drink only rendered them peevish and quarrelsome--the subject of the visit was broached.

Josko Vranic, the elder of the two brothers, would at first not listen to Bellacic's request.

"What!" exclaimed he, in the flowery style of Eastern mourners, "do you ask me to come to terms with Radonic, who cruelly murdered my brother? Do you wish me to press to my heart the viper from whose teeth we still smart? Do you think I have no soul, no faith? Oh! my poor brother"--(he hated him in his lifetime)--"my poor brother, murdered in the morning of his life, in the spring of his youth, a star of beauty, a lion of strength and courage; had the murderer's hand but spared him, what great things might he not have done! Oh, my brother, my beloved brother! No; blood alone can avenge blood, and his soul can never rest in peace till my dagger is sheathed in his murderer's heart. No, Radonic must die; blood for blood; life for life. I must find out the foul dog and strangle him as he strangled my beloved brother, or I am no true Slav. Tell me where he is, if you know, that I may tear him to pieces; for nothing can arrest my arm!"

Josko Vranic was a tailor, and a very peaceful kind of a tailor into the bargain. It is true that, when his brain was fuddled with drink, he was occasionally blood-thirsty; but his rage expended itself far more in words than in deeds. For the present, he was simply trying to act his part well, and was only repeating hackneyed phrases often uttered in houses of mourning, at funerals, and at wakes.

All his thoughts were bent on the sum of money he might obtain for _karvarina_, and he, therefore, thought that the more he magnified his grief, the greater would be the sum he might ask for blood-money.

Bellacic and Markovic, as well as the other friends of both parties gathered in the house, deemed it advisable to leave him to give utterance to his grief. Then, when he had said his say and the children were quieted, Radonic's friends began to persuade him to forego all ideas of vengeance, and--after much useless talking--many prayers from the women, and threats from the babes to begin shrieking again, Vranic agreed that he would try and smother his grief, nay, for their sakes, forget his resentment; therefore, after much cogitation, he named a jury of twenty-four men to act as arbitrators between him and the murderer, and settle the price that was to be paid for the blood. This jury was, of course, composed of persons that he thought hated Radonic, and who would at least demand a sum equivalent to 200 or 300. He little knew how much his own brother had been disliked, and the low price that was set on his life.

These twenty-four persons having been appointed, Radonic called upon all of them, and got them to meet at Bellacic's house the day before the ceremony of the _karvarina_; he sent there some small barrels of choice wine, and provisions of all kinds for the feast of that day, as well as for the banquet of the morrow, for he knew quite well that the gall of a bitter enemy is less acrid after a good dinner, and that an indifferent person becomes a friend when he is chewing the cud of the dainty things you have provided for him.

As soon as supper was over, and while the _bucara_ of sweet _muscato_ wine was being handed round, Bellacic submitted the case to the twenty-four arbiters, expatiated like a lawyer on the heinous way Vranic had acted, how like a real snake he had crept between husband and wife, trying to put enmity between them, and how he had succeeded in his treachery, doing all this to seduce a poor distracted woman.

"Now," continued Bellacic, "put yourselves in Radonic's place and tell me how you yourselves would have acted. If you have the right to shoot the burglar who, in the dead of night, breaks into your house to rob you of your purse, is it not natural that you should throttle the ruffian who, under the mantle of friends.h.i.+p, sneaks into your bedroom to rob you of your honour? Is the life of such a man worth more than that of the scorpion you crush under your heel? Vranic was neither my friend nor my enemy; therefore, I have no earthly reason to set you against him, nor to induce you to be friendly towards Radonic. I only ask you to be just, and to tell me the worth of the blood he has spilt."

Bellacic stopped for a moment to see the effect of his speech on his listeners. All seemed to approve his words no less than they did the sweet wine of the _bucara_; then after a slight pause, he again went on.

"Radonic may have many faults, nay, he has many; are we not all of us full of blemishes? Still, the poor that will be fed for many days from the crumbs of our feast will surely not say that he is a miser.

Still--withal he is lavish--one thing he is fully determined not to do, that is to pay more for the blood he has spilt than it is really worth.

"It is true that the heirs of the dead man are filling the whole town with their laments; but do you think that those who mourn so loudly would gladly welcome their brother back, nay, I ask you how many hands would be stretched out to greet Vranic if the grave were to yawn and give up the dead man. Who, within his innermost heart, is not really glad to have got rid of a man who carried an evil influence with him whithersoever he went?

"But speaking the truth in this case is almost like trying to set you against the exaggerated claims of the late man's brothers; whilst you all know quite well that I only wish you to act according to your better judgment, and whatever your decision be, we shall abide by it.

You are husbands, you are Slavs; the honour of your homes, of your children, of your wives is dear to you; therefore, I drink to your honour with Radonic's wine."

As the _bucara_ could not go round fast enough, so gla.s.ses were filled, and toasts were drunk. After that, Bellacic left the room, so that the jury might discuss the matter under no restraint. Although twenty of the men were in favour of Radonic, still four thought that the arguments used in his favour had been so brilliant that Bellacic had rather charmed than convinced them. They were, however, overruled by the many, and the b.u.mpers they swallowed in the heat of the argument ended by convincing them, too.

"Gentlemen," said Bellacic, coming back, "I shall not ask you now if Vranic's life was worth a herd or a single cow, a flock or a single sheep, or even a goat, for here is Teodoroff, the _guzlar_, who is going to enliven us with the glorious battle of Kossovo, and the great deeds of our immortal Kraglievic."

The bard came in, and he was listened to with rapt attention during the half-hour that his poem lasted. No one spoke, or drank, or even moved; all remained as if spell-bound; their eyes seemed to seek for the words as they flowed from the poet's lips. At last the _guzlar_ stopped, and after a few moments of silence, shouts of applause broke forth. Just then Radonic came into the room, and the twenty-four men all shook hands with him heartily, and, excited as the audience was with the daring deeds of Marko Kraglievic, Bellacic made him relate some of his encounters with the Turks, and show the holes in his coat through which the bullets had pa.s.sed.

"And now, Teodoroff," said Radonic, finis.h.i.+ng the story of his exploits, "give us something lively; I think we've had enough of bloodshed for the whole evening."

"Yes," added Bellacic; "but let us first finish the business for which we have been brought together, and then we can devote the remainder of our time to pleasure."

"Yes," retorted one of the twenty-four arbitrators, "it's time the matter was settled."

"Well, then," quoth Markovic, "what is the price of the _jettatore_'s life?"