Part 12 (1/2)
A pause ensued; Danira stooped and began to put fresh fuel on the dying fire. Her hands showed that she had learned to work and did not spare herself, but every movement was full of grace and power.
Marco silently watched her, and suddenly advancing a step nearer seized the girl's arm, asking in an abrupt, vehement tone:
”Why do you scorn my suit? I am the chief, the richest man in the tribe, even richer than your brother. You need not labor like the other women, you shall be no slave in my house--no, Danira, I promise you!”
There was a strange blending of sullen menace and ardent pa.s.sion in the words, nay, even an accent of entreaty in the promise. It was evident that the rude son of the mountains was completely under the thrall of a feeling experienced for the first time, and which subdued his masculine obstinacy. He pleaded where, in his opinion, he was ent.i.tled to demand, but Danira with quiet decision released her arm.
”You cannot act contrary to your nature, Marco, even if you wished. You must rule and oppress, and when angered you know no limits. You bend even my brother absolutely to your will; what would be your wife's fate? And is this a time to think of marriage? Stephan has just told you what has happened; he has been defeated.”
”For the third time! By all the saints, I would not have allowed myself to be routed, but Stephan is no leader--never has been.”
”My brother is still very young,” replied Danira. ”He lacks experience, not courage, and can do nothing for a lost cause, for--whether you admit it or not--our cause is lost. You alone still hold out, but you cannot accomplish what is impossible.”
”Silence!” cried Obrevic in a fierce outbreak of wrath. ”What do you know about it? Has Stephan already infected you with his cowardice? He talks of submission, and you----”
”Not I!” Danira interrupted. ”I can understand that you must conquer or fall. I wish I could die with you, if it comes to that. Destruction is no disgrace--but there is shame in submission.”
The words had a ring of iron resolution which showed that the girl was quite capable of verifying them if matters proceeded to extremes. Marco felt this, for without averting his gaze from her face he said slowly:
”You ought to have been the man and Stephan the woman. You have inherited your father's blood--he did not.”
He held out his hand and clasped hers with a firm pressure, such as was usually exchanged only between men. Danira had compelled him to recognize her as his equal. The clasp of the hand acknowledged it.
”You are right,” he continued. ”This is no time to think of marriage, we have better things to do. But when the time comes--and come it will--you shall be mine, Danira, I have sworn it and will keep my vow.”
The light of pa.s.sion again glowed in his eyes, but the young girl was spared a reply, for Stephan entered and the two men began to equip themselves for departure. The farewell was brief and laconic. These rude sons of the mountains were fully capable of pa.s.sions but mere emotions where wholly alien to their natures.
Even Stephan did not think of taking any warmer leave of his young wife, who approached to hand him his gun, yet they had been only a few months wedded, and the two men might expect death at any hour. Marco, in the act of departure, turned once more to Danira with the question:
”Were there any soldiers in the village this morning?”
”Yes, but they only rested a short time, and marched on scarcely an hour after.”
”Others will probably come to-night or early tomorrow. They are seeking us, as they have so often done, and will not find us unless we wish to be found. If they ask, put them on a false trail.”
The young girl shook her head. ”You know I cannot lie. And they never ask, they know we will not betray our people--Stephan is to join you with his men?”
”Yes, at once, that we may be united in the next attack. Farewell!”
The two men went out and ascended to the top of the ravine. Their dark figures were visible for a time, making their way vigorously against the gale, then they vanished and the village lay silent and desolate, apparently wrapped in slumber, as before.
Stephan Hersovac's house was also silent, but Danira still sat by the hearth, constantly putting fresh logs upon the dying fire, as if she dreaded darkness and sleep. Her sister-in-law had already gone to rest.
She did not understand how any one could shorten or wholly resign the only solace of a toilsome life, slumber, and had nothing to think about, so she was sound asleep in the dark room adjoining.
The young girl had closed the door leading to it, in order to be entirely alone, and was now gazing fixedly into the flames. Without the tempest raved, and within the fire snapped and crackled, but Danira saw and heard nothing. She was dreaming, dreaming with her burning eyes wide open, and from the floating smoke appeared visions far, far removed from the darkness and solitude of the hour--a wide, wide landscape, flooded with golden suns.h.i.+ne, and overarched by a deep-blue sky, towering mountain peaks, s.h.i.+mmering waves, and in the distance a surging sea, veiled by the mists of morning!
Above the whole scene hovered a face, looking down upon her with stern severity, bitter reproach, as in that hour on the rocky height, that hour which had decided the fate of two human beings.
They had not seen each other since, and to separation was added enmity, for the two parties to which they belonged now confronted each other in mortal strife. And yet--the visionary face began to lose its harsh expression, softened more and more, until finally it disappeared, and only two clear eyes gazed forth from the drifting wreaths of smoke, the bright, clear eyes of Gerald von Steinach, no longer full of hate and enmity, but instinct with that one emotion which had awaked in that hour never to die again.