Page:Halek's Stories and Evensongs.pdf/205

 visible oppression no leaf on the bushes nor any blade of grass stirred. A butterfly fluttered by, it flapped its weary wings as if it would beat itself to death without advancing. Birds uttered strange sounds, they cried to one another and gave each other secret call-notes. The whole neighbourhood closed its heavy eyelid and prepared itself for sleep. This oppression also fell on our little company and when they were silent it seemed to all of them that they heard in the distance something rattling through the air like a charge of musketry. This discharge was repeated, and above the horizon emerged grey clouds like the vanguard of an army which announces by its galloping that a sharp conflict is imminent.

“A storm”, cried they all as with one mouth and rose and hastened to the little hostinets where they had dined. To have taken at once the homeward road was quite out of the question for the storm was close upon them in an instant, and would have overtaken them while they were in the open country.

Scarcely had they run for shelter to the hostinets when the wind rushed along like a host of the landwehr, carrying with it leaves, dust, and branches until everything was obscured. The storm roared, the lightning paraded before the murky clouds like a general before the ranks of his army, and presently the rain descended in torrents.

Still our party was merry. Under that modest roof it seemed to Vojtech even as if they belonged more closely to one another, as if that slight mishap had united them more closely. While outside the thunder pealed, they nestled against one another as if in that way they gained strength and confidence. The lightning lit up a day that was more night than day, the thunder dispersed itself in the Prokop valley, like a long tarrying guest in his friend’s abode. Every corner was full of it and no one was able to make himself heard. But our party seemed with all that discord above them as though they must explode in mirth and jollity. They laughed, indeed, more than the storm could rage. All Vojtech’s absurd reserve was eradicated, all he said was brimful of mirth, and he laughed until he brought the tears into his eyes.

The room in the hostinets was anything but well-lighted, and the whole place close and confined, two or three cranky chairs, a table, and a bench along the wall were all the furniture of which the room could boast. It was not possible to pick and choose. Consequently Vojtech was seated on the bench behind