"There, you see, she is dying; let me go to her. Why do you hold me here? Unhand me; you see she is alone—no one to attend upon her." (The remainder of his words were unintelligible.)
The tears rolled down Mara's cheeks, for she thought that her son's words were but too true; at that moment Milena was probably dying.
"She came to me for help, and I——"
"Milenko," added the delirious man, "get the ship ready; let us take her away."
"Yes," said Milenko; "we have only to heave the anchor and be off."
Uros thereupon made an effort to get up, but the pain caused by his wound was so great that he fell fainting on his bed with a deep moan.
The two men standing at the door came to the sufferer's bedside. Mara herself bent over him to assist him. Just then Milenko was called out—someone was asking for him.
The fever-fit had subsided. The sufferer, falling back on his pillow, exhausted, seemed to be slowly breathing his last.
The tears were falling fast from Mara's eyes. The two men by the bed were twisting their bristling moustaches, looking helplessly forlorn. Just then Milenko appeared on the threshold, followed by a wan and corpse-like boy. Bellacic frowned at the intruder. Mara, at the sight, started back, opening her eyes widely.
"You?" said she.