The poor mother wept for joy at seeing her son, and for grief at the thought that her husband was an exile from his house at his time of life; but just then the good friar came in and brought news from Bellacic, and comforted the family, saying that in a very few days the whole affair would be quieted, and their guest would be able to come back home.
"And will he remain with you all that time?" asked Mara.
"We should be very pleased to have him," replied the friar; "but for his sake and ours, it were better for him to cross the mountain and remain at Cettinje till the storm has blown over."
"And when does he start?"
"This evening."
"May I come and see him before he goes?" asked Mara.
"Certainly, and if you wish to go at once, I'll wait here a little while longer, just not to awaken suspicion."
Mara, therefore, went off at once, and the friar followed her a quarter of an hour afterwards.
Uros, on seeing Milena, felt as if he were suffocating; his heart began to beat violently, and then it seemed to stop. He, for a moment, gasped for breath. She, too, only recovering from her illness, felt faint at seeing him.
Uros found her looking handsomer and younger than before; her complexion was so pale, her skin so transparent, that her eyes not only looked much larger, but bluer and more luminous than ever. To Uros they seemed rather like the eyes of an angel than those of a woman. Her fingers were so long and thin; her hand was of a lily whiteness, as it nestled in Uros' brown, brawny and sunburnt one.