The Knights of the Cross, or, Krzyzacy. Henryk Sienkiewicz

Jurand of Spychow; but now I am very tired, because the way was long and I hastened."

      "He; I why did you hasten?"

      "Because I wished to see Princess Alexandra and get another letter from her. Jurand of Spychow said 'Go and bring the letter to Spychow. I have a few Germans imprisoned here. I will free one of them if he promise upon his knightly word to carry the letter to the gland master.' For vengeance for his wife's death, he always keeps several German captives and listens joyfully when they moan and their chains rattle. He is a man full of hatred. Understand?"

      "I understand. But I wonder that you did not recover the lost letter, if

       Jurand captured those who attacked you."

      "He did not capture all of them. Five or six escaped. Such is our lot!"

      "How did they attack you? From ambush?"

      "From behind such thick bushes that one could see nothing. I was riding without armor, because the merchants told me that the country was safe, and it was warm."

      "Who was at the head of the robbers? A Krzyzak?"

      "Not a friar, but a German. Chelminczyk of Lentz, famous for his robberies on the highway."

      "What became of him?"

      "Jurand chained him. But he has in his dungeons two noblemen, Mazurs, whom he wishes to exchange for himself."

      There was a moment of silence.

      "Dear Jesus," Zbyszko said, finally; "Lichtenstein is alive, and also that robber from Lentz; but we must perish without vengeance. They will behead me and you will not be able to live through the winter."

      "Bah! I will not live even until winter. If I could only help you in some way to escape."

      "Have you seen anybody here?"

      "I went to see the castellan of Krakow. When I learned that Lichtenstein had departed, I thought perhaps the castellan would be less severe."

      "Then Lichtenstein went away?"

      "Immediately after the queen's death, he went to Marienburg. I went to see the castellan; but he answered me thus: 'They will execute your nephew, not to please Lichtenstein, but because that is his sentence. It will make no difference whether Lichtenstein be here or not. Even if he die, nothing will be changed; the law is according to justice and not like a jacket, which you can turn inside out. The king can show clemency; but no one else.'"

      "And where is the king?"

      "After the funeral he went to Rus'."

      "Well, then there is no hope at all."

      "No." The castellan said still further: "I pity him, because the Princess

       Anna begs for his pardon, but I cannot, I cannot!"

      "Then Princess Anna is still here?"

      "May God reward her! She is a good lady. She is still here, because

       Jurandowna is sick, and the princess loves her as her own child."

      "For God's sake! Then Danusia is sick! What is the matter with her?"

      "I don't know! The princess says that somebody has thrown a spell over her."

      "I am sure it is Lichtenstein! Nobody else—only Lichtenstein—a dog-brother!"

      "It may be he. But what can you do to him? Nothing!"

      "That is why they all seemed to have forgotten me here; she was sick."

      Having said this, Zbyszko began to walk up and down the room; finally he seized Macko's hand, kissed it, and said:

      "May God reward you for everything! If you die, I will be the cause of your death. Before you get any worse, you must do one thing more. Go to the castellan and beg him to release me, on my knightly word, for twelve weeks. After that time I will return, and they may behead me. But it must not be that we both die without vengeance. You know! I will go to Marienburg, and immediately send a challenge to Lichtenstein. It cannot be otherwise. One of us must die!"

      Macko began to rub his forehead.

      "I will go; but will the castellan permit?"

      "I will give my knightly word. For twelve weeks—I do not need more."

      "No use to talk; twelve weeks! And if you are wounded, you cannot return; what will they think then?"

      "I will return if I have to crawl. But don't be afraid! In the meanwhile the king may return and one will be able to beseech him for clemency."

      "That is true," answered Macko.

      But after awhile he added:

      "The castellan also told me this: 'On account of the queen's death, we forgot about your nephew; but now his sentence must be executed.'"

      "Ej, he will permit," answered Zbyszko, hopefully. "He knows that a nobleman will keep his word, and it is just the same to him, whether they behead me now, or after St. Michael's day."

      "Ha! I will go to-day."

      "You better go to Amylej to-day, and rest awhile. He will bandage your wound, and to-morrow you can go to the castellan."

      "Well, with God then!"

      "With God!"

      They hugged each other and Macko turned toward the door; but he stopped on the threshold and frowned as if he remembered something unpleasant.

      "Bah, but you do not yet wear the girdle of a knight; Lichtenstein will tell you that he will not fight with you; what can you do then?"

      Zbyszko was filled with sorrow, but only for a moment, then he said:

      "How is it during war? Is it necessary that a knight choose only knights?"

      "War is war; a single combat is quite different."

      "True, but wait. You must find some way. Well, there is a way! Prince Janusz will dub me a knight. If the princess and Danusia ask him, he will do it. In the meantime I will fight in Mazowsze with the son of Mikolaj of Dlugolas."

      "What for?"

      "Because Mikolaj, the same who is with the princess and whom they call

       Obuch, called Danusia, 'bush.'"

      Macko looked at him in amazement. Zbyszko, wishing to explain better about what had occurred, said further:

      "I cannot forgive that, but I cannot fight with Mikolaj, because he must be nearly eighty years old."

      To this Macko said:

      "Listen! It is a pity that you should lose your head; but there will not be a great loss of brains, because you are stupid like a goat."

      "Why are you angry?"

      Macko did not answer, but started to leave. Zbyszko sprang toward him and said:

      "How is Danusia? Is she well yet? Don't be angry for a trifle. You have been absent so long!"

      Again he bent toward the old man who shrugged his shoulders and said mildly:

      "Jurandowna is well, only they will not let her go out of her room yet.

       Good-bye!"

      Zbyszko remained alone, but he felt as if he had been regenerated. He rejoiced to think that he might be allowed to live three months more. He could go to remote lands; he could find Lichtenstein, and engage in deadly combat with him. Even the thought about that filled him with joy. He would be fortunate, to be able to ride a horse, even for twelve weeks; to be able to fight and not perish without vengeance. And then—let happen what would happen—it would be a long time anyhow! The king might return and forgive him. War might break out, and the castellan himself when he saw the victor of the proud Lichtenstein, might say: "Go now into the woods and the fields!"

      Therefore a great hope entered