"I think you are right, Jadviga," said he.
"Oh! I know I am," replied the Countess, bursting into a loud, croaking, jarring fit of hysterical laughter. The Baron shuddered, but the Countess laughed louder and ever louder, until the lofty room resounded with that horrible, untimely merriment.
And now, if you pass by the dreary and deserted old Yarnova Castle, you will, perhaps, hear in the dead of the night those dreadful, discordant peals of laughter, whilst the belated peasant who passes by crosses himself devoutly on hearing that sound of fiendish mirth.
The southerly wind which had accompanied the Giustizia di Dio to Cape Salvore suddenly shifted, and a smacking northeasterly breeze began to blow. The whole of that night was a most stormy one; still, the ship bravely weathered the gale. At dawn the wind began to abate, still the sea was very heavy.
At about eight o'clock they perceived a ship, not only in distress, but sinking fast. Milenko at once gave orders to reef the topsails and tack about, so as to be able to approach the wreck, for the sea was by far too heavy to allow them to use their boats.
When they managed to get near enough to hear the shouts of the starving crew, they found out that the sinking ship was the Ave Maria, an Austrian barque. After much manoeuvring they got as close to the stern of the sinking ship as they possibly could. Ropes were then thrown across, so that the sailors might catch and tie them around their bodies and jump into the sea. The weakest were first helped to leap overboard, and then they were hauled into the Giustizia di Dio, where they received all the help their state required.
Five men were thus saved, and then the two ships were driven apart by the gale. A scene of despair at once ensued on board the Ave Maria, which was sinking lower and lower. By dint of tacking about, the Giustizia di Dio was once more brought by the side of the wreck, and then the captain and boatswain were saved; one of the men, who was drunk, when about to be tied, reeled back to the wine, which, apparently, was sweeter to him than life itself.
Milenko, who had remained at the helm, now came to the prow. It was just then that Vranic caught the rope that had been flung to him, and tied it round his waist. He stood on the stern and was about to leap into the foaming waves below. Milenko, who perceived him, uttered a loud cry, almost a raucous cry of joy, just as mews do as they pounce upon their prey.
"Vranic at last!" said he.
Vranic heard himself called; but, when he recognised his foe, it was too late to keep back—he had already sprung into the sea.