Alas! what was done could never be undone. She rocked herself on her stool in a brown study. What was she to do? What was to become of her?
Radonic would return in a few months; then he would kill her. That, at least, would put a stop to her misery. But the thought of having to live for months in mortal dread was worse than death itself. The maddest thoughts came to her mind. She would leave Budua, dress up as a boy, go off to Cattaro, embark for some distant town. And then?
Far away the people spoke a gibberish she could not understand, and they were heathens, who even ate meat on fast-days. These thoughts, in her loneliness, were almost driving her to distraction, when, unexpectedly, her husband came back home. His ship, in a tempest, had been dashed against a reef, off the shores of Ustica, the westernmost of the Æolian Islands. Not only the vessel, but also the cargo, and even two sailors, were lost.
On seeing her husband appear before her, Milena felt all her blood freeze within her veins. She had disliked Radonic from the very first moment she had cast her eyes upon him; since her marriage her antipathy had increased with his ill-treatment, so that now she positively loathed him.
Still, when the first moment of almost insurmountable dread was over, she heaved a deep sigh of relief. His return was a godsend to her. Had he not just come in time to save her from ignominy? She even mastered herself so far as to make Radonic believe that she was glad to see him, that she was longing for his return, and for a while he believed it. Still, when his mouth was pressed on hers, as he clasped her fondly in his arms, the kiss he gave her now was even worse than the first one she had received from him on her wedding-day. It seemed as if he had seared her lips with burning, cauterising steel. After a day or two, she could not keep up this degrading comedy any longer; her whole being revolted against it in such a way that Radonic himself could not help noticing how obnoxious his presence was to her.
She was, however, glad about one thing. Her husband, having lost his large vessel and all his costly cargo, for he had of late been trading on his own account, would not be able to settle down in Budua, as he had intended doing; then, being now quite poor, people would not be envying her any more. What good had her husband's riches done to her? None at all.
Even in that she was doomed to disappointment. The widow of one of the sailors who had got drowned at Ustica came to beg for a pittance. She had several little children at home clamouring for bread. Milena gave her some flour and some oil, and promised to speak to her husband.
"But," said she, "we, too, are very poor now."
"Poor!" replied the woman. "Why, you are richer now than you ever were."
"How, if we've lost our ship with all its cargo?"