"Well, just as I lifted my knife to stab, the candle went out. I couldn't see at all; the night was so dark; you all were far from me. Besides, as I bent down, the smell made me so sick that——"
"You don't know where you stabbed?" added the priest, angrily.
"He stabbed him in the cheek!" said the sexton, coming in.
"Fool!" burst out the priest, in a stentorian voice.
"I was sure this would be the case," cried out one of the party.
"Vranic has always been a bungler of a tailor."
"You have done a fine piece of work, you have, indeed, you wretch!" hissed the priest, looking at Vranic scornfully.
"You have endowed that cursed brother of yours with everlasting life," said the other priest, "and now the whole town will be infested with another vampire for ever!"
"Do you really think so?" asked Vranic, ready to burst out crying.
"Think so!" said all the other men, scornfully. "To bring us here in the middle of the night with this storm, to stifle us with this poisonous stench, and this is the result!"
"But really——" stammered Vranic.