The veranda where they were sitting was upstairs; through the open windows the eye could follow the distant view; the hills lay slumbering in the afternoon light, along their foot lay a road--processions of laden mules, whole caravans ascending slowly and laboriously, winding along in bluish lines till lost to sight over the brow of the hill. The woman followed them with her eyes, and without moving, from her wheel, pointing with her hand, she said: "There are sheepfolds yonder, too, aren't there?" The shepherd nodded his head. "I never asked you, Toli, how are the goats doing? Do you think my man chose well this year?" "Well, very well." That was all. He said no more. His deep-set eyes were sad, and black as the night. A minute later footsteps sounded in the garden, and then the voice of a neighbour: "Where are you, dear, where have you hidden yourself?" "Here, Lena, here," replied the woman upstairs. Lena mounted the stairs. Behind her came Doda Sili and Mia; they had all brought their work, for they would not go away till late in the evening. "Have you heard?" asked Lena. "What?" "Two more murders." Suspicion had fallen upon Gardana. He had become a kind of vampire about whom many tales were told. Especially old men, if they could engage you in conversation, would try and impress you with the story. In a village lived a maiden, modest and very beautiful. She was small, of the same age as Gardana, who was a boy then. They were fond of each other, they played together, they kissed each other--they kissed as children kiss. But after a while the girl's form took on the soft curves of coming womanhood; then it came to pass that they never kissed each other, they knew not why, and when they were alone they did not venture to look into each other's eyes; she would blush like a ripe apple, and Gardana's lips would tremble. Then there appeared upon the scene, from somewhere, a certain Dina, son of a rich somebody; the girl pleased him, and he sent her an offer of marriage. Her father did not think twice, her father gave her to him. And Gardana--would you believe it--after he realized that it was hard fact, gnashed his teeth, beat his breast, and disappeared. Two days later he was on the mountains, and a gang with him. Eh! love knows no bounds, love builds, but love also destroys many homes. The girl's father was seized and murdered; not long after Dina was murdered too. Then Gardana spread terror for many years in succession. For some time now, whatever he might have been doing, wherever he might be in hiding, nothing had been heard of him. But as soon as something happened, his name once again passed round the village: "Gardana, it is Gardana!" Perhaps it was not he, perhaps he had left the mountains, perhaps even he was dead; but the people who knew something---- "How many did you say there were?" asked Mia. "Two; both merchants. They came from abroad." "And who can have murdered them?" "No one but--Gardana."