The Knights of the Cross, or, Krzyzacy: Historical Romance
fitly, cut off his head and bury it in the dung!" These were the words
which Tolima said to himself. Then looking greedily at the German he
began to dilate his nostrils as if he already smelt fresh blood. He
fought hard in his mind with that desire; it was hard wrestling with
himself, until he reflected that Jurand had not only granted to the
prisoner his life and freedom as far as the frontier, but also beyond it,
otherwise Jurand's holy deed would have no merit and the heavenly reward
for him would thereby be lessened. He finally prevailed over himself, and
reining in his horse, said;
"Here is our border; your side is not far from here; proceed, you are
free; and if the qualms of conscience do not take you off, or God's
thunder does not strike you, then you need not fear man."
Then Tolima returned; and Zygfried proceeded. His face looked as if
petrified and a savage expression was depicted upon it. He did not reply
a single word, as though he heard nothing that was said to him. He
continued his journey now upon a wider road and had the appearance of one
who is fast asleep.
The break in the storm and the brightening of the sky only lasted a short
time. It darkened again; so much so that it looked like the darkness of
night. The clouds traveled so low that they quite enveloped the forest
and from the hills came down an ill-boding obscurity, a kind of hissing
and growling of impatient vampires, who were kept back by the angel of
the storm. Blinding lightning illuminated the threatening sky every
moment and terrified the land. Then one could see the broad highway
extending between the two black walls of forest, and upon it a lonely
horseman. Zygfried moved on in a semi-conscious condition, consumed by
fever. Despair had lacerated his heart since Rotgier's death and filled
it with crimes of revenge. Remorse, awful visions, soul stirrings had
already tortured his mind in the past to such a degree that with great
effort he had to fight madness; there were even moments when he could
fight no longer and he surrendered. But the new troubles, fatigue upon
the road under the strong hand of the Bohemian, the night he had passed
in the dungeon of Spychow, the uncertainty of his fate, and above all,
that unheard-of and almost superhuman deed, had quite terrified him. All
this had brought him to a climax. There were moments when his mind became
so stupefied that he entirely lost his judgment and he did not know what
he was doing. Then the fever awoke him and, at the same time awoke within
him a certain dull feeling of despair, destruction, and perdition,--a
feeling that all hope was already gone, extinguished and ended. He felt
that about him was only night, night and darkness, a horrible abyss into
which he must plunge.
Suddenly a voice whispered in his ear:
"Go! Go!"
And he looked around him and saw the very image of death, a skeleton
mounted upon a skeleton horse, pressing closely beside him, with his
white rattling bones.
"Is it you?" asked Zygfried.
"Yes it is. Go! Go!"
But at that moment he glanced to the other side and observed that he had
another companion there. Stirrup to stirrup rode a form, appearing
somewhat like a human being but for his face and head. It had the head of
an animal, with raised long pointed ears, covered with black shaggy hair.
"Who are you?" asked Zygfried.
But the being, instead of replying, showed its teeth and growled.
Zygfried closed his eyes, but in a moment he heard a louder clattering of
bones and the voice speaking to him in the same ear:
"Time! Time! Hurry on, go!"
"I go!" he replied.
But that last reply came from his breast and seemed to have been uttered
by somebody else. Then, impelled as it were by an external unconquerable
power, he dismounted and took off his high knight's saddle, and then the
bridle. His companions also dismounted, and did not leave him for a
moment. They left the middle of the road and went toward the margin of
the wood. There, the black being bent down a branch of a tree and
assisted him in fastening to it the strap of the bridle.
"Hurry!" whispered Death.
"Hurry!" whistled some voices from the tops of the trees.
Zygfried, who was like one plunged in deep sleep, drew through the buckle
the other end of the strap so as to form a noose. Then he stepped upon
the saddle which he had placed in front of the tree, and adjusted the
noose upon his neck.
"Push back the saddle! ... Already! Ah!"
The saddle, which he pushed with his feet, rolled away several paces and
the body of the unfortunate Knight of the Cross hung heavily. It seemed
to him, only for a short moment, that he heard a kind of smothering,
snorting and roaring, and that abominable vampire threw itself upon him,
shook him and then began to tear his breast with its teeth to rend his
heart. Then, as the light of his eyes was about extinguished he yet saw
something else; for lo, death dissolved into a whitish cloud, which
slowly approached him, embraced him, and finally surrounded and covered
all with a dismal and impenetrable veil.
At that moment the storm broke with great fury. Thunder roared in the
middle of the road with such a terrible crash that it seemed as though
the earth was shaken to its very foundations. The whole forest bent under
the tempest. The noise of whistling, hissing, howling, creaking of the
trunks, and cracking of the broken branches, filled the depths of the
woods. The tempest-driven sheets of rain hid the world from sight. Only
at short intervals, when lit up by blood-colored lightning, could be seen
the wild dangling body of Zygfried by the roadside.
* * * * *
The following morning, advancing upon the same road, a numerous train
might be seen. In front was Jagienkna, with Sieciechowna and the
Bohemian. Behind them moved the wagons, surrounded by four servants,
armed with bows and swords. Every driver had also a spear and an axe near
him, not counting forged hayforks and other cutting arms suitable upon
the road. Those arms were necessary for protection against wild beasts,
as well as robbers, who always swarmed upon the border of the Knights of
the Cross. This caused Jagiello to complain in his letters to the Grand
Master of the Order, and when they met at Racionza.
But being provided with skilful men and good arms, the retinue traveled
without fear.
The stormy day was succeeded by a wonderful one; cheerful, silent and so
bright that the eyes of the travelers were blinded when not in the shade.
Not a single leaf stirred; from each of them hung large drops of rain
which the sun changed into a rainbow. Among the pine-needles they had the
appearance of large glistening diamonds. The rainfall produced small
streams upon the road, which ran with glad sound toward the lower places,
where they formed shallow little lakes. The whole neighborhood was wet
and bedewed, but smiling in the morning brightness. On such mornings,
also, the human heart is filled with gladness. Therefore the ostlers and
servants began to sing; they marveled at the silence which reigned among
those riding in front of them.
But they were quiet because a heavy burden oppressed Jagienka's heart.
There was something which had ended in her life, something broken.
Although she was not experienced in meditation and could not determine
distinctly the cause and what was going on in her mind, yet she felt that
all that had lived hitherto had vanished, that all her hopes had
dissipated as the morning mist upon the fields is dissipated. She felt
that she must now renounce and give up everything and forget, and begin
almost a new life. She also thought that although, with God's will, her
present position was not of the worst, yet it could not be otherwise than
sad, and in no way could the new life turn out to be as good as that
which had just terminated. And an immense sorrow had taken hold of her
heart, so that, at the thought that every past hope was gone forever,
tears came to her eyes. But not wishing to add shame to her other
troubles, she restrained herself from weeping. She wished that she had
never left Zgorzelice; in that case she would not now have to return
thither. Then, she thought, it was not only to remove the cause for
attacks upon Zgorzelice by Cztan and Wilk that Macko brought her to
Spychow. That she could not believe. "No," she said, "Macko also knew
that that was not the only cause for taking me away. Perhaps Zbyszko will
also know it." At that thought, her cheeks became crimson and bitterness
filled her heart.
"I was too daring," she said to herself, "and now I have what I deserved.
Trouble and uncertainty to-morrow, suffering and deep sorrow in the
future and with it humiliation."
But the train of oppressing thoughts was interrupted by a man coming
hastily from the opposite direction. The Bohemian, whose eyes nothing
escaped, rushed toward the man, who with crossbow upon his shoulder and
badger-skin pouch at his side, and with a feather of a black woodcock in
his cap, was recognized as a forester.
"Hey! Who are you? Stop!" exclaimed the Bohemian.
The man approached quickly, his face was agitated, and had the expression
of those who have something extraordinary to communicate. He cried:
"There upon the road ahead of you is a man hanging on a tree!"
The Bohemian was alarmed, thinking that it might be a murder, and he
asked the man quickly:
"How far from here is it?"
"A bowshot distance, and upon this road."
"Is there nobody with him?"
"Nobody; I frightened away a wolf that was smelling around him."
The mention of a wolf quieted Hlawa, for it told him that there were
neither people nor farms in the neighborhood.
Then Jagienka said:
"Look there, what is that?"
Hlawa rushed ahead, and soon returned hurriedly.
"Zygfried is hanging there!" he exclaimed while reining in his horse in
front of Jagienka.
"In the name of the Father, Son and Holy Ghost! You do not mean Zygfried,
the Knight of the Cross?"
"Yes, it is he. He hung himself with the bridle."
"Did you say by himself?"
"It seems so, because the saddle lies alongside him, and if there were
robbers they would have killed him outright and made off with the saddle,
because it is valuable."
"Shall we proceed?"
"Let us not go that way! No!" cried Anula Sieciechowna, afraid.
"Something evil might happen to us!"
Jagienka was also somewhat afraid, because she believed that the body of
a suicide is surrounded by crowds of evil spirits. But Hlawa, who was
fearless and bold, said:
"Bah! I was near him, and even pushed him with the lance, and do not feel
any devil upon my neck."
"Do not blaspheme!" cried Jagienka.
"I am not blaspheming," replied the Bohemian, "I only trust in God's
power. Nevertheless, if you are afraid we will go around it."
Sieciechowna begged him to do so; but Jagienka, having reflected for a
moment, said:
"It is not proper to leave the dead unburied. It is a Christian act
commanded by the Lord. Anyhow it is the body of a man."
"Yes, but it is the body of a Knight of the Cross, a hangman and
executioner! Let the crows and wolves occupy themselves with his body."
"It was not specified. God will judge for his sins, but we must do our
duty; and if we fulfil God's commandment nothing evil will befall us."
"Well, then, let it be done according to your wishes," replied the
Bohemian.
Accordingly he gave the order to the servants, who were reluctant. But
they feared Hlawa, to oppose whom was a dangerous thing. Not having the
necessary spades to dig a hole in the ground, they therefore gathered
pitchforks and axes for that purpose and left. The Bohemian also went
with them and to give them an example, he crossed himself and cut with