Hour after hour elapsed; the night began to wane, the stars shone less brightly, then one by one vanished, and the cold, gray dawn, rested on the earth. The bora, too, had almost ceased. It only blew occasionally in violent gusts that raged with redoubled power, but the pauses between constantly lengthened, the storm was evidently nearly over.
Outside the ravine containing the Vila spring was the band of pursuers who, with dogged, tireless endurance, had waited there for hours. Danira knew her race and especially Marco Obrevic. She was well aware that he would not leave the track of his foe, though he would not dare to approach the spring. In fact he had not yet ventured to do so, but now his unruly nature seemed to triumph over the barrier that restrained it.
A dispute had evidently broken out among the men; their voices rose in loud altercation, Marco's loudest of all. He was standing in the midst of his companions, towering in height above them all, but his bearing was menacing and defiant, as if he were in the act of carrying out his will by force.
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? Hell 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."