ranger of the Evil Eye had appeared, not as before, bearing down on them with eagle speed, but as if from a long journey; his horse lame and with drooping head; the Arnaoot himself covered with dust, apparently scarcely able to keep his seat. "By the life of your child," he said, "give a cup of water to one who faints with thirst." The nurse, with Constans in her arms, got a bowl of the desired liquid, and presented it. Ere the parched lips of the stranger touched the wave, the vessel fell from his hands. The women started back, while he, at the same moment darting forward, tore with strong arm the child from her embrace. Already both were gone--with arrowy speed they traversed the plain, while her shrieks, and cries for assistance, called together all the domestics. They followed on the track of the ravisher, and none had yet returned. Now, as night closed in, one by one they came back; they had nothing to relate; they had scoured the woods, crossed the hills--they could not even discover the route which the
It seemed longer than 22 pages. This is a story of kidnapping, murder, blood feuds, and convenient coincidence in the Balkans. It is wretchedly overwritten, and wore out my dictionary with place names and boat types. Given its subject matter, it's a surprisingly dull slog. Give this one a pass, fead her masterpiece Frankenstein instead.