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The Turks desired particularly to subdue this people in the outset of the campaign, as their territory commanded the upper road from Podgoritza to Danilograd, and hostilities commenced with an attack on them. While waiting I made the acquaintance of Marko, whom I found to be one of the most interesting characters I met in Montenegro.
She said gently, "Fatal to what, Marko?" He was going to say, "To happiness"; but he looked at her and then looked away. "Well, to everything; to success. You can't possibly be successful if you haven't got convictions what I call bald-headed convictions. That's what success is, Nona, the success of politicians and big men whose names are always in the papers.
She was personally to deliver it to a gentleman who was of neither party, and who would give her a letter from Alvan in exchange, which, while assuring the gentleman she was acting with perfect freedom, she was to be under her oath not to read, and dutifully to hand to Marko, her betrothed.
He no more than touched her hand and turned away. He had kept his resolution. She was close behind him. He heard her give the tiniest little catch at her breath. She said, "Shall I write to you, Marko?" He turned towards her. She was smiling as though it was a chaffing remark she had made. Her shield! And he answered her from behind his own shield, "Oh, well, I'm bad at letters, you know."
He told her that he rode "one of those chainless bikes." He said it rather mumblingly. Exactly in that tone she used to say things like, "I do like you in that brown suit, Marko." He resumed his ride. A mile farther on he overtook, on a slight rise, an immense tree trunk slung between three pairs of wheels and dragged by two tremendous horses, harnessed tandemwise.
On this challenge being reported to him Marko rode off on a half-tamed steed at midday into the heart of Podgorica, and reined up before the Pasha's house. In fear and trembling the Turks hastily closed their bazaars and houses as that fearful horseman galloped through their streets. In a loud voice Marko cried "I am here, Yussuf, to answer thy challenge. Wilt thou now come out and fight with me?"
She had to get her news of Alvan through Marko. He brought her particulars of the old trial of Alvan, and Alvan's oration in defence of himself for a lawless act of devotion to the baroness; nothing less than the successfully scheming to wrest by force from that lady's enemy a document precious to her lawful interests.
Those who loved her trusted her and she has come through those dark years; and those who know you have trusted you always, and you are coming through those days to show to all. Time, Marko; time heals all things, forgets all things, and proves all things. There's that for you." He shook his head with a quick, decisive motion. She went on.
And she had done tribute to her husband's parts with generosity, nay with pride. "Tony does everything better than any one else." She had said it on that occasion of their first reëncounter; its burthen had been the opening of her recital of what else she had for him. "Marko, I think Tony's the most wonderful person that ever was. He does everything that men do and he does everything best.
There was no grisly baroness attached to the prince's life. She wrote the letter to Alvan, feeling in the words that said she was plighted to Prince Marko, that she said, and clearly said, the baroness is now relieved of a rival, and may take you! She felt it so acutely as to feel that she said nothing else.
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