Part 17 (2/2)
Stephan Hersovac was vainly trying to restore peace.
”Let him go; he only threatens; he will not do it,” he called to the others.
”You will not violate the spring, Marco; the two men in the ravine cannot escape us, but we must wait till--”
”Wait!” interrupted Marco, whose voice betrayed the fury that seethed in his heart. ”Haven't we waited here since midnight? h.e.l.l may have revealed the secret to them--they know it, they must know it! No wile, no threat will induce them to come forth; they will not quit the spring. Shall we camp here, perhaps for days, till hunger drives them out or until they are missed at the fort and troops come to rescue them. What then?”
”Then the Vila spring will have protected them, and we must submit,”
said one of the men, an old mountaineer with iron-gray hair, but a form still vigorous and unbent.
”Never!” cried Marco, furiously ”Rather will I strike him down on this spot, though it should cause my own destruction. For months I have sought him and he has ever escaped me. At last I have him in my grasp, and I will not withdraw my hand till it is red with his blood. I have sworn it, and I will keep my oath. No spell protects the man who killed my father and your chief.”
”The Vila spring protects all!” said the same old man with marked emphasis. ”Back, Marco! Madman! You will bring misfortune on yourself and on us all, if you break the peace.”
”Do you suppose I am not man enough to fight those two men alone?”
sneered Obrevic. ”Stay behind! I'll take the consequences upon myself.
Make way, Stephan, I am going into the ravine.”
A threatening murmur rose on all sides against the young chief. The men had followed with eager, pa.s.sionate approval when he set out to crush his foe. The foreign officer had slain the head of the tribe, they were all summoned to avenge the fallen man--first of all, his son. That was a thing imperative, inevitable, which according to their ideas of justice must be done. Each man was ready to aid, and no one scrupled because the victim had been treacherously lured into a trap and was now a.s.sailed by greatly superior numbers.
Danira had told the truth; here only the deed was important; how it was accomplished no one cared.
But now the point in question was the violation of an old and sacred tradition, which no one had yet ventured to a.s.sail, and superst.i.tion, which among uncultured races is even more powerful than religion, stood with threatening aspect between Gerald and his pursuers. The Vila spring was mysteriously a.s.sociated with all the legends of the country to which it belonged; to violate it was to bring misfortune upon land and people. Only a nature like that of Marco, who knew no law save his own will, could have attempted to rebel against it, and when he did so his comrades seemed on the verge of preventing him by force.
Surrounding him they barred his way to the ravine. Weapons flashed and it seemed as though the conflict might end in bloodshed, when Stephan Hersovac again interposed.
”Let us have peace,” he said, placing himself by his friend's side.
”Shall our own blood flow for the sake of an enemy, a stranger? Keep back, Marco, you don't know what you are doing,” and, lowering his voice so that no one save Obrevic could hear, he added:
”You want to lead us to the attack again to-morrow. Not a man will follow you if you shed blood in this place, you will be outlawed and all will turn from you.”
He had taken the right way to restrain the fierce Obrevic. The latter uttered a suppressed exclamation of fury and clenched his teeth, but he made no further effort to break through the circle that surrounded him.
He knew only too well that his disheartened, diminished band followed him reluctantly to the combat in which he meant to deal the enemy one last, desperate blow; that the men saw safety only in surrender. The power of his personal influence still induced them to obey him, but this power would be ended if he actually entered the magic circle with uplifted weapon.
Just at this moment a single figure, apparently a boy, came toward them from the village. It was the shepherd lad who had been sent to carry Gerald the false message, who had served as guide, and then hurried to Marco with the tidings. He ran at full speed to the men, whom he at last reached, panting and breathless.
”Beware, Marco Obrevic!” he gasped, ”the soldiers are coming--twice your number--they are searching for him, the foreign officer--and you!”
All started at the unexpected news, but Marco vehemently exclaimed:
”You lie! They cannot have heard yet; they think the village is occupied by their own men. Are they there?”
”No, they pa.s.sed by without stopping, without asking a question. They are marching to the Vila spring, I heard the name.”
”This is treason. How do they know he is there? They ought to think he is in the village. Who was it took the message to them?”
”Never mind that now,” interrupted Stephan. ”You hear that there are twice our number. We cannot fight here, it would be certain destruction. Let us go while we have time.”
<script>