Now an alarm had been given outside. Evidently two of them were here. The fire flickered up for a moment.
“Let me alone, Trino,” called Zivko, and threw himself upon the floor. He felt a hand clutch his throat.
Outside there were shrieks and sounds of loud voices. Old Ugricic was making his way along, carrying a hatchet, and the younger fellows with anything they could pick up. One carried a candle. All were frightened. It was just as if a wild animal had broken loose, and everyone was saying:
“What’s the trouble? What’s the trouble? Where is it?”
At length the neighbors came hurrying in and then there was noise and confusion. House and yard were filled with people, moving about and asking questions.
In the middle of the kitchen, or rather the living room, stood a young, vigorous man, with the belt and head-covering such as are worn here. He wore very wide trousers, and shoes. That was Trino. Around him the crowd surged. He did not speak and seemed greatly excited. Zivko,
