That whole day Uros thought a little of the riddle, and a great deal of Milena's sparkling eyes; moreover, he felt the pressure of her soft hand upon his palm. But the more he pondered over her question, the more confused his brain grew, so he gave up thinking of the riddle, and continued thinking of the young woman. On the morrow his excitement increased, as the time of hearing the answer drew near.
Milena, as usual, was on the watch for him, leaning on the door-post, looking more beautiful than ever. As soon as he saw her, he hurried up to her without being called.
"Well," said she, with a nervous smile, "have you guessed?"
"No."
"Oh, you silly fellow! Who speaks all the languages of the world?"
"It's useless to ask me; I don't know."
"What will you give me if I tell you?" said she, in a low, fluttering voice, and with a visible effort.
He would willingly have made her a present, but he did not know what she would like, and, as he looked up into her eyes to guess, he felt his blood rising all up to his head.
"Do you want me to bring you something from abroad—a looking-glass from Venice, or a coral necklace from Naples?"
No, she did not want anything from abroad.