It was, however, only at dawn that he managed to get out of the town gate, together with some peasants going to their early work, and so he crossed the frontier long before Vranic's murder was known in town.
On the morrow, when Milena fainted on the murdered man's corpse, she was taken up and placed on her bed; she was sprinkled with water and vinegar; she was chafed and fanned; a burning quill was placed under her nose, but, as none of these little remedies could recall her to life, medical help had to be sent for. Even when she came back to her senses, another fainting-fit soon followed, so that she was almost the whole day in a comatose state.
Meanwhile (Tripko having summoned help), the house was filled with people, who all bustled about, talked very loud, asked and answered their own questions. Those gifted with more imagination explained to the others all the incidents of the murder. Last of all came the guards. Then they, with much ado and self-importance, managed to clear the house.
Though Mara would have liked to take Milena back home with her, still the doctors declared that it was impossible to remove her from her bed, where for many weeks she lay unconscious and between life and death, for a strong brain-fever followed the fainting-fits. Her father and mother (who had come to take her away) tended her, and love and care succeeded where medical science had failed.
CHAPTER X
PRINCE MATHIAS
Sailing from Trieste to Ragusa, the Spera in Dio was becalmed just in front of Lissa; for days and days she lay there on that rippleless sea, looking like "a painted ship upon a painted ocean."
It was towards the middle of spring, in that season of the year called by the Dalmatians the venturini, or fortunate months, on account of the shoals of sardines, anchovies, and mackerel, which swim up the Adriatic, and towards that eastern part of its shores, affording the people—whose barren land affords them but scanty food—the main source of their sustenance.
At last a faint breeze began to blow; it brought with it the sweet scent of thyme and sage from the rocky coast only a few miles off, and made the flabby sails flap gently against the masts, still, without swelling them at all. Everyone on board the Spera in Dio was in hopes that the wind would increase when the moon rose, but the sun went down far away in the offing, all shorn of its rays, and like a huge ball of fire; then a slight haze arose, dimming the brightness of the stars, casting over nature a faint, phosphorescent glimmer; then they knew that the wind would not rise, for "the mist leaves the weather as it finds it;" at least, the proverb says so.
Already that afternoon the crew of the Spera in Dio had seen the waters of the sea—as far as eye could reach—bickering and simmering; still, they knew that the slight shivering of the waters was not produced by any ruffling wind, but by the glittering silver scales of myriads of fish swimming on the surface of the smooth waters. In fact, a flock of gulls was soon hovering and wheeling over the main, uttering shrill cries of delight every time they dipped within the brine and snatched an easy prey; then a number of dolphins appeared from underneath, and began to plunge and gambol amidst the shoal, feasting upon the fry. The fish, in a body, made for the shore, hoping to find protection in shallower waters. Alas! a far more powerful enemy was waiting for them there.