The Knights of the Cross, or, Krzyzacy. Генрик Сенкевич

shells to the ceiling. Danusia laughed so much, that the princess fearing that the young girl would choke, was obliged to ask him to stop the amusement; but perceiving how merry the girl was, she asked her:

      "Well, Danusia, is it good to have your own knight?"

      "Oj! Very!" answered the girl.

      And then she touched Zbyszko's white silk "jaka" with her pink finger, and asked:

      "And will he be mine to-morrow?"

      "To-morrow, and Sunday, and until death," answered Zbyszko.

      Supper lasted a long time, because after the nuts, sweet cakes with raisins were served. Some of the courtiers wished to dance; others wished to listen to the rybalts or to Danusia's singing; but she was tired, and having with great confidence put her little head on the knight's shoulder, she fell asleep.

      "Does she sleep?" asked the princess. "There you have your 'lady.'"

      "She is dearer to me while she sleeps than the others are while they dance," answered Zbyszko, sitting motionless so as not to awaken the girl.

      But she was awakened neither by the rybalts' music nor by the singing. Some of the courtiers stamped, others rattled the dishes in time to the music; but the greater the noise, the better she slept.

      She awoke only when the roosters, beginning to crow, and the church bell to ring, the company all rushed from the benches, shouting:

      "To matins! To matins!"

      "Let us go on foot for God's glory," said the princess.

      She took the awakened Danusia by the hand and went out first, followed by the whole court.

      The night was beginning to whiten. In the east one could see a light glare, green at the top, then pink below, and under all a golden red, which extended while one looked at it. It seemed as though the moon was retreating before that glare. The light grew pinker and brighter. Moist with dew, the rested and joyous world was awakening.

      "God has given us fair weather, but there will be great heat," said the courtiers.

      "No matter," answered the Pan of Dlugolas; "we will sleep in the abbey, and will reach Krakow toward evening."

      "Sure of a feast."

      "There is a feast every day now, and after the confinement and tournaments, there will be still greater ones."

      "We shall see how Danusia's brave knight will acquit himself."

      "Ej! They are of oak, those fellows! Did you hear what they said about that fight for four knights on each side?"

      "Perhaps they will join our court; they are consulting with each other now."

      In fact, they were talking earnestly with each other; old Macko was not very much pleased with what had happened; therefore while walking in the rear of the retinue, he said to his nephew:

      "In truth, you don't need it. In some way I will reach the king and it may be he will give us something. I would be very glad to get to some castle or grodek[20] – Well we shall see. We will redeem Bogdaniec from our pledge anyhow, because we must hold that which our forefathers held. But how can we get some peasants to work? The land is worth nothing without peasants. Therefore listen to what I am going to tell you: if you make vows or not to anyone you please, still you must go with the Pan of Mielsztyn to Prince Witold against the Tartars. If they proclaim the expedition by the sound of trumpets before the queen's confinement, then do not wait either for the lying-in, or for the tournaments; only go, because there will be found some profit. Prince Witold is munificent, as you know; and he knows you. If you acquit yourself well, he will reward you liberally. Above all, if God help you, you will secure many slaves. The Tartars swarm in the world. In case of victory, every knight will capture three-score of them."

      At this, Macko being covetous for land and serfs, began to fancy:

      "If I could only catch fifty peasants and settle them in Bogdaniec! One would be able to clear up quite a piece of forest. You know that nowhere can you get as many as there."

      But Zbyszko began to twist his head.

      "Owa! I will bring hostlers from the stables living on horse carrion and not accustomed to working on the land! What use will they be in Bogdaniec? Then I vowed to capture three German crests. Where will I find them among the Tartars?"

      "You made a vow because you were stupid; but your vow is not worth anything."

      "But my honor of wlodyka and knight? What about that?"

      "How was it with Ryngalla?"

      "Ryngalla poisoned the prince, and the hermit gave me absolution."

      "Then in Tyniec, the abbot will absolve you from this vow also. The abbot is greater than a hermit."

      "I don't want absolution!"

      Macko stopped and asked with evident anger:

      "Then how will it be?"

      "Go to Witold yourself, because I shall not go."

      "You knave! And who will bow to the king? Don't you pity my bones?"

      "Even if a tree should fall on your bones, it would not crush them; and even if I pity you, I will not go to Witold."

      "What will you do then? Will you turn rybalt or falconer at the Mazowiecki court?"

      "It's not a bad thing to be a falconer. But if you would rather grumble than to listen to me, then grumble."

      "Where will you go? Don't you care for Bogdaniec? Will you plow with your nails without peasants?"

      "Not true! You calculated cleverly about the Tartars! You have forgotten what the Rusini[21] told us, that it is difficult to catch any prisoners among the Tartars, because you cannot reach a Tartar on the steppes. On what will I chase them? On those heavy stallions that we captured from the Germans? Do you see? And what booty can I take? Scabby sheep-skin coats but nothing else! How rich then I shall return to Bogdaniec! Then they will call me comes!"

      Macko was silent because there was a great deal of truth in Zbyszko's words; but after a while he said:

      "But Prince Witold will reward you."

      "Bah, you know; to one he gives too much, to another nothing."

      "Then tell me, where will you go?"

      "To Jurand of Spychow."

      Macko angrily twisted the belt of his leather jacket, and said:

      "May you become a blind man!"

      "Listen," answered Zbyszko quietly. "I had a talk with Mikolaj of Dlugolas and he said that Jurand is seeking revenge on the Germans for the death of his wife. I will go and help him. In the first place, you said yourself that it was nothing strange for us to fight the Germans because we know them and their ways so well. Secundo, I will thus more easily capture those peacock's crests; and tercio, you know that peacock's crests are not worn by knaves; therefore if the Lord Jesus will help me to secure the crests, it will also bring booty. Finally: the slaves from those parts are not like the Tartars. If you settle such slaves in a forest, then you will accomplish something."

      "Man, are you crazy? There is no war at present and God knows when there will be!"

      "How clever you are! The bears make peace with the bee-keepers and they neither spoil the beehives, nor eat the honey! Ha! ha! ha! Then it is news to you, that although the great armies are not fighting and although the king and the grand master stamped the parchment with their seals, still there is always great disturbance on the frontiers? If some cattle are seized, they burn several villages for one cow's head and besiege the castles. How about capturing peasants and their girls? About merchants on the highways? Remember former times, about which you told me yourself. That Nalencz, who captured forty knights going to join the Knights of the Cross, and kept them in prison until the grand master sent him a cart full of grzywien;[22] did he not do a good business? Jurand of Spychow is doing the same and on the frontier the work is always ready."

      For a while they walked along silently; in the meanwhile, it was broad daylight and the bright rays of the sun lighted up