He, therefore, made up his mind to brave the pamdours (the Austrian police), to meet with the anger of Vranic's brothers, just to see Milena again, and find out how she fared, and what she was doing. He, one evening, started from Cettinje, went down the steep road leading to the sea-shore, got to the gates of the town at nightfall, and, wrapped in his great-coat, with his hood pulled down over his eyes, he crossed the town and reached his house.
He stopped at the window and looked in; Milena was nowhere to be seen. He was seized by a dreadful foreboding—what if he had come too late? Two women were standing near the door of the inner room, talking. He, at first, could hardly recognise them by the glimmering light of the oil-lamp; still, after having got nearer the window, he saw that one of them was Mara Bellacic, and the other his mother-in-law.
He then went to the door, tapped gently, and pushed it open; seeing him, both the women started back astonished.
His first question was, of course, about his wife. She was a little better, they said, but still very ill.
"She is asleep now. You can come in and see her, but take care not to wake her," added Milena's mother.
"Yes," quoth Mara, "take care, for should she wake and see you so unexpectedly, the shock might be fatal."
Radonic went noiselessly up to the door of the bedroom and peeped in. Seeing Milena lying motionless on the bed, pale, thin and haggard, he was seized with a feeling of deep pity, such as he had never felt before in the whole of his life, and he almost cursed the memory of his mother, for she had been the first to set him against his wife, and had induced him to be so stern and harsh towards her.
He skulked about that night, and on the following day he sent for Bellacic, for Markovic, and for some kinsmen and acquaintances, and asked them to help him out of his difficulties. They at once persuaded him to try and make it up with Vranic's relations, to pay the karvarina money, and thus hush up the whole affair.
While public opinion was favourable to him, it would be easy enough to find several persons to speak in his behalf, to act as mediators or umpires, and settle the price to be paid for the blood that had been spilt.
Although the Montenegrins and the inhabitants of the Kotar, as well as almost all Dalmatians, are—like the Corsicans—justly deemed a proud race, amongst whom every wrong must be washed out with blood, and although they all have a strong sense of honour, so that revenge becomes a sacred duty, jealously transmitted from one generation to another, still the old Biblical way of settling all litigations with fines, and putting a price for the loss of life, is still in full force amongst them.