see the glory of the moment in the
Voivodin's starry eyes; for else they might have guessed the secret.
I knew from the Vladika's look that he shared my own satisfaction,
even as he had shared my anxiety.

As the Gospodar Rupert was tossed high on the lifted hands of the
mountaineers, their shouts rose to such a sudden volume that around
us, as far as I could see, the frightened birds rose from the forest,
and their noisy alarm swelled the tumult.

The Gospodar, ever thoughtful for others, was the first to calm
himself.

"Come, brothers," he said, "let us gain the hilltop, where we can
signal to the Castle. It is right that the whole nation should share
in the glad tidings that the Voivodin Teuta of Vissarion is free.
But before we go, let us remove the arms and clothing of these
carrion marauders. We may have use for them later on."

The mountaineers set him down, gently enough. And he, taking the
Voivodin by the hand, and calling the Vladika and myself close to
them, led the way up the ravine path which the marauders had
descended, and thence through the forest to the top of the hill that
dominated the valley. Here we could, from an opening amongst the
trees, catch a glimpse far off of the battlements of Vissarion.
Forthwith the Gospodar signalled; and on the moment a reply of their
awaiting was given. Then the Gospodar signalled the glad news. It
was received with manifest rejoicing. We could not hear any sound so
far away, but we could see the movement of lifted faces and waving
hands, and knew that it was well. But an instant after came a calm
so dread that we knew before the semaphore had begun to work that
there was bad news in store for us. When the news did come, a bitter
wailing arose amongst us; for the news that was signalled ran:

"The Voivode has been captured by the Turks on his return, and is
held by them at Ilsin."

In an instant the temper of the mountaineers changed. It was as
though by a flash summer had changed to winter, as though the yellow
glory of the standing corn had been obliterated by the dreary waste
of snow. Nay, more: it was as when one beholds the track of the
whirlwind when the giants of the forest are levelled with the sward.
For a few seconds there was silence; and then, with an angry roar, as
when God speaks in the thunde