"I will!"
When they saw that the serdar was laughing, full ten of them leaped into the house to fetch Dunja. She struggled, she waved her powerful arms, and pushed several of the men a couple of yards away from her. But the rascals fell upon her and at last managed to get her out.
"Do not let me, father!" she exclaimed with a ringing laugh.
"You must!" cried her father, also laughing. "You must, and why not, since we desire it? Bear yourself firmly, my darling. You are the daughter of Jovan Kněžević!"
The girl now grew serious, looked her father straight in the eyes, and then, rolling up her sleeves, she said:
"Let him come, then!"
The young Latin boy now drew his weapons from his girdle, threw them to the ground with his cap, and ran up to the girl who was awaiting him on the free space in the threshing-floor.
They clutched each other by the arms.
She lifted him up in the air like a feather, but he stood alertly on his feet again.
"Now you lift her up!" his kinsmen shouted to him.
"Dunja, our champion!" shouted the Kněžević men to the girl.
This Luka would not do, but let her have the
