How dark the room was; all the shutters were tightly shut, and dazzled as she was by the broad daylight, she could not see the slightest thing in that dark room.
Her heart was beating so loud that she fancied it was going to burst; she panted for breath, she shrank within herself, appalled as she was by that overpowering darkness. She dreaded to stretch out her hand and grope about, for it seemed to her as if she would be seized by some invisible foe, lying there in wait for her.
Just then, as she was staring in front of her, with widely-opened eyes, the kabanica, as she had seen it the evening before, rose slowly, gravely, silently, from the floor, and stood upright before her.
That gloomy ghost of a garment detached itself from the surrounding darkness and glided up to her, bending forward with outstretched arms. No face was to be seen, for the head was quite concealed by the hood. And yet she fancied Vranic's livid face must be there, near her.
She almost crouched down, oppressed by that ghostly garment; she shrank back with terror, and yet she knew that the phantom in front of her only existed in her morbid imagination.
To nerve herself to courage, she turned round to cast a glance at Uros' mother, and convince herself that she was still there, within reach at a few steps; then, with averted head, she went in.
She turned round; the phantom of the kabanica had disappeared. She was by the hearth. What was she to do now? First, open the shutters and have some light. She turned towards the right.
All at once she stumbled on the very spot where, the evening before, she had caught and entangled her foot in the great-coat. A man was lying there now, apparently dead. She uttered a piercing cry as she fell on a cold, lifeless body. Then, as she fell, she fainted.
Mara and Todor, hearing the cry, rushed into the house. They opened the shutters, and then they saw Milena lying on the floor, all of a heap, upon an outstretched body. They lifted her up and laid her on the bed; then they went to examine the man, who was extended at full length by the hearth, wrapped up in his huge great-coat.
"There is no blood about him," said Todor; "he, therefore, must be drunk, and asleep."