nor at this work, but since that was not possible, they all lowered their voices and moved as little as they could, as if to get as far away as possible from this affair.
Seeing that the interrogation was going slowly and did not give any hope of results, Abidaga with impatient movements and loud oaths went out of the stable. After him reeled the man from Plevlje, followed by the guards.
Outside it was growing light. The sun had not yet risen, but the whole horizon was clear. Deep among the hills the clouds lay in long dull purple bands and between them could be seen the clear sky almost green in colour. Scattered patches of mist lay over the moist earth out of which peeked the tops of the fruit trees with sparse yellowish leaves. Still striking at his boot with his whip, Abidaga gave orders. The criminal should continue to be interrogated, especially about those who had helped him, but he should not be tortured beyond endurance lest he die. Everything must be made ready so that at noon that same day he should be impaled alive on the outermost part of the construction work at its highest point, so that the whole town and all the workers should be able to see him from the banks of the river; Merdjan was to get everything ready and the town-crier to announce the execution through all the quarters of the town, so that at midday all the people might see what happened to those who hindered the building of the bridge, and that the whole male population, both Turks and rayah, from children to old men, must gather on one or other of the banks to witness it.
The day which was dawning was a Sunday. On Sunday work went on as on any other day, but this day even the overseers were distrait. As soon as it was broad daylight, the news spread about the capture of the criminal, his torture and his execution which was to take place at midday. The hushed and solemn mood of the stable spread over the whole area about the building works. The men on forced labour worked silently, each one avoided looking his neighbour in the eyes, and each man looked only to the work before him as if that were the beginning and the end of his world.
An hour before noon the people of the town, for the most part Turks, had collected on a level space near the bridge. Children were hoisted on to high blocks of building stone which were lying about. The workmen swarmed around the narrow benches where the meagre rations which kept them alive were usually distributed. Chewing at them, they were silent and looked uneasily about them. A little later Abidaga appeared, accompanied by Tosun Effendi, Mastro Antonio and one or two of the more prominent Turks. All stood on a small dry hummock between the bridge and the stable where the condemned man was. Abidaga went once more to the stable, where he was told that everything was ready; lying there was an oak stake about eight feet long, pointed as was necessary and tipped with iron, quite thin and sharp, and all well greased with lard. On the scaffolding were the blocks between which the stake would be embedded and nailed, a wooden mallet for the impalement, ropes and everything else that was needed.
The man from Plevlje was distraught, his face earthen in colour and his eyes bloodshot. Even now he was not able to endure Abidaga's flaming glances.
'Listen, you! If everything is not as it should be and if you disgrace me in public, neither you nor your bastard of a gipsy will ever appear before me again, for I will drown you both in the Drina like a pair of blind puppies.'
Then, turning to the shivering gipsy, he said more kindly:
'You will get six grosh for the job, and another six if he stays alive till nightfall. See to it!'
The hodja called out from the main mosque in the market-place in a clear sharp voice. Uneasiness spread among the assembled people and a few moments later the door of the stable opened. Ten guards were drawn up in two ranks, five on either side. Between them was Radislav, barefooted and