The midwife went to the fount of holy water, took the blessed sprig of olive which was over it, dipped it into the fount and sprinkled the bed and the place where the ghost had stood, uttering all the while the appropriate prayer for the purpose. Then she sprinkled Milena, and made the sign of the Cross over her. After that she gave her some drops of cordial, and little by little brought her back to her senses, vowing all the while not to remain alone again in that haunted house.
When Milena recovered, "My husband is dead, is he not?" she asked.
"But—no," said the midwife, hesitatingly.
"You know he is. Did you not see him standing there? He had one wound on the head and several in the breast."
The elderly woman did not answer.
"When did he die?" quoth Milena.
"Some days ago; but——"
"He was killed by the Turks, was he not?"
"Yes."
"Why did no one tell me?"