He had never been separated from Milenko for so many days, and now that he was about to see him, his longing seemed to increase at every step.
As for Milenko, being of a more sensitive character, and having remained on board, he had missed his friend even more keenly than Uros had done. He would have started to meet him at early dawn, but he had been obliged to remain behind and look after the ship's cargo, that had been delayed the evening before on account of some trifling incident—for, sometimes, things of no importance in themselves lead to the most dreadful calamities. Likewise, the string of one of Milenko's shoes broke, so he stopped to tie it; after some steps it broke again. He stopped once more, pulled off his shoe, unlaced it, tied the string as well as he could. After a quarter of an hour the string of the other shoe broke too; he had again to stop and mend it. More than five minutes was thus lost; besides, the loose strings not only made him linger, but even slacken his pace.
Uros went down singing snatches of some merry song, little thinking that the delay in meeting his friend would almost cost him his life.
The news of Radonic's death had soon been spread about Budua, and he, who had never been a favourite during his lifetime, became a hero after death. The Samson-like way in which he had fought was extolled, the number of wounds he had received, the hundreds of Turks he had killed went on daily increasing. His dauntless courage, his bold feats, his cunningness in council were becoming legendary; in fact, he was for some time a second Marko Kraglievic. The Vranite party —especially after the night of the burying-ground affair—had dwindled into nothing. The Radonites ruled the day.
Earless Vranic, as he was called everywhere, was galled by his defeat; his envious, jealous disposition could find no rest. Being, moreover, doomed to a certain death, he found himself like a stag at bay, and he almost felt at times the courage of despair.
The radiant day which followed the dreadful night when the vampire appeared to him brought no change to Vranic's gloom. He was too much like a night-bird now to feel any pleasure at the sight of the sunlit sky. Like an owl he shunned the light, and only prowled about when every man had shut himself up in his house. He dreaded the sight of a human face on account of the scowl of hatred he was sure to see there, for he knew that everyone looked upon him not as a man, but as the bloodsucker he would soon become.
Having recovered from his fainting-fit after the visit of the voukoudlak, he almost lost his senses again, seeing the black dagger on the table in front of him. With a fluttering heart, and aching head and tottering limbs, he walked about his room, asking himself what he should do and how he could escape the wretchedness of his present life. Suicide never came into his head, for, in spite of all his misery, life still was dear to him. The best thing would, perhaps, be to leave Budua for a short time, and thus frustrate the vampire.
As he had to go and pay the priest for the ceremony of the exorcism, he decided to ask, and perhaps take, his advice upon what he was to do and where he should go. He went grudgingly, indeed, to pay a large sum of money for a ceremony which had been of no avail, and although it had not been the priest's fault if the ghost had not been killed, still the money was being thrown away, for all that.
Before leaving the house, he took the black dagger, washed and scrubbed it with fine sand to cleanse it from the offensive smell it had, then he put it in his breast pocket, where he had had it some nights before. With heavy steps he trudged towards the priest's house at dawn, before the people of the town were up and about the streets. The priest, who was an early riser, had just got up. Vranic, with unwilling hands, undid the strings of his purse, and counted out, with many a sigh, the sum agreed upon, for the priest would not bate a single cent. Then Vranic, with his eyes gloating on the silver dollars, told the clergyman how the vampire had appeared to him and overcome him.
"Aye," said the priest, "I was afraid that would be the case."