Vranic shrugged his shoulders scornfully.
"We do not appeal to you alone, but to any man of honour, to any Iugo Slav, to any husband of the Kotar. What would he have done to a man who, pretending to be his friend, came by stealth, in the middle of the night, into his home to——"
"Then," cried Vranic, in that shrill, womanish voice peculiar to all his family, "it is not my brother that ought to have been killed. Was he to blame if he was enticed——"
"What do you mean?" cried Radonic, clasping the haft of the dagger, which he ought to have given up to Vranic.
"Silence!" said the umpire: "you forget that you have promised to love——"
"If you intend to speak of Milena," said Bellacic, interrupting the judge, "you must remember that the evening upon which your brother was killed she was spending the evening——"
"At your house? No!" said Vranic, with a scornful laugh, shrugging his shoulders again.
"Come, come," said one of the jury; "let's settle the karvarina."
"Besides," added another arbitrator, ingenuously, "Radonic has been put to the expense of more than fifty goats. Until now, no man has ever——"
"Oh, I see!" interrupted the tailor, with a withering sneer; "he has bribed the few friends my poor brother had, so now even those have turned against him."