Still, when they touched his limbs, they found that they were stiff and stark, anchylosed by the rigid sleep of death.
Mara pushed back the hood of the kabanica, and then she saw a sight which she never forgot the whole of her life.
She saw Vranic's face staring at her in the most horrible contortions of overpowering pain. His distorted mouth was widely open, like a huge black hole; out of it, his slimy, bloody, dark tongue protruded—dreadful to behold. His nostrils were fiercely dilated. Still, worst of all, his eyes, with their ugly cast, started —squinting, glazed and bloodshot—out of their sockets. The hair of his face and of his head was bristling frightfully; his ghastly complexion was blotched with livid spots. It was, indeed, a gruesome sight, especially seen so unexpectedly.
All around his neck he bore the traces of strangulation, for Radonic, who had promised not to use a knife, had been true to his word.
Mara, shuddering, made the sign of the Cross. She pulled the hood of the coat over the corpse's face, and then went to nurse Milena; whilst Todor Teodorovic, who had, at last, found a topic of conversation worth being listened to, went out to call for help.
CHAPTER IX
THE HAYDUK
On the morning of the murder Vranic accompanied Radonic out of the town. He had told Milena he would do so. On reaching the gate fronting the open country and the dark mountains, Radonic stopped, and wished his friend Good-bye. The seer insisted upon walking a little way out of town with him.
"No, thank you; go back. The weather is threatening, and we'll soon have rain."
"Well, what does it matter? If you don't melt, no more shall I," and he laughed at his would-be witticism.