A single glance at Colonel Petrosch convinced me that some change had taken place in the situation during his absence which he considered favourable. His step was less heavy; the air of oppressed anxiousness was gone; his face had lost that depressed, care-haunted, apprehensive look which I had seen before; and his bearing was almost confident and bright.
He went at once to the matter in hand.
“I am glad to tell you you are free to leave, Mr. Bergwyn,” he said, with obvious satisfaction.
“I am deeply obliged to you for your intervention, Colonel.”
“Shew it by leaving Belgrade by the first available train and remaining away for some days at least until matters have settled. Then we shall be ready to receive you.”
“You have had news which you consider good?” I asked.
“Yes. I think the best we could have. There is now no room for reasonable doubt that the people will not only support the army’s action, but will do so with enthusiasm. The news is known everywhere now, and reports from all over the city from all classes are to this effect. Every minute brings added proof of this. It is an intense and consummate relief.”
“It is consummate shame and scandal that murder should be thus hailed with acclamation,” cried Gatrina, indignantly.
“Those will be dangerous views to express to-day, madam,” said Petrosch, turning to her. “You and I must of necessity look upon this revolution with very different feelings. What to you appears murder, I and those with me regard as the only gate to national liberty which was left open to us.”
“Mr. Bergwyn has told me that many murders have been committed in the night. There will be a heavy reckoning for each of them.”