The Knights of the Cross, or, Krzyzacy: Historical Romance
well. This was a sullen thought for him, because his great sorrow and
pain had become concentrated into a desire for fight and blood. Even help
for Danusia in his mind took the form of a series of battles either in
troops or singly; and now he perceived that it might be necessary to
restrain his desire for revenge and splitting of heads, like a bear on a
chain, and seek new means of saving and recovering Danusia. While
thinking of this, he felt sorry that Macko was not with him. Macko was as
cunning as he was brave. He secretly determined to send Sanderus from
Spychow to Szczytno, in order to find that woman and to try to learn from
her what had happened to Danusia. He said to himself that, even if
Sanderus wished to betray him, he could do little harm in the matter, and
on the contrary might render great service, because his trade gained
admittance for him everywhere. However, he wished to consult Jurand
first, but postponed it until their arrival in Spychow, the more so
because night came on, and it seemed to him, that Jurand, sitting on a
knight's high saddle, had fallen asleep from fatigue, exhaustion and
great anxiety. But Jurand rode with a bowed head only because misfortune
weighed it down. And it was apparent that he was constantly thinking of
it, with a heart full of terrible dread, because he finally said:
"I would rather be frozen under Niedzborz! It was you that dug me out?"
"I, with others."
"And at the hunt, you saved my child?"
"What should I have done?"
"Will you help me now, too?"
And there burst forth in Zbyszko at the same time such love for Danusia
and such great hatred toward the Teuton wrongdoers, that he rose in his
saddle and began to speak through tightly set teeth, as though with
difficulty:
"Listen to what I say: even if I have to bite the Prussian castles with
my teeth, I will do it and get her."
Then followed a moment's silence.
The vengeful and uncontrollable nature of Jurand also seemed to awake in
full force under the influence of Zbyszko's words, because he began to
gnash his teeth in the darkness and after a while to repeat again the
names: Danveld, von Löve, Rotgier and Godfried! And he thought in his
soul that if they wanted him to restore von Bergow, he would do so; if
they demanded an additional payment he would give it, even if he had to
throw into the price Spychow entire; but then, woe to those who had
raised their hands against this his only child!
Throughout the whole night, sleep did not close their eyelids for a
moment. At dawn, they scarcely recognized each other, to such an extent
had their faces changed during this single night. At length Jurand was
struck by that pain and inveterate hatred on Zbyszko's face and therefore
said: "She saved you and snatched you from death--I know. But you also
love her?"
Zbyszko looked directly into his eyes with an almost defiant expression
and replied: "She is my wife."
Upon that, Jurand stopped his horse and looked at Zbyszko, blinking his
eyes with astonishment.
"What do you say?" he inquired.
"I say that she is my wife and I am her husband."
The knight of Spychow brushed his eyes with his sleeve, as if he were
dazed by a sudden thunder-stroke, and after awhile, without a word of
reply, he urged his horse forward to the head of the troop and rode on
silently.
CHAPTER V.
But Zbyszko, riding behind him, could not stand it very long, and said to
himself: "I would rather have him burst forth in anger, than become
embittered." He therefore rode up to him and jogging his stirrup against
his, he commenced to speak: "Listen how it happened. You know what
Danusia did for me in Krakow, but you do not know that they proposed to
me Jagienka of Bogdaniec, the daughter of Zych of Zgorzelice. My uncle,
Macko, was in favor of it, also her parents and Zych; a relative, an
abbot, a wealthy man as well.... What is the use of many words?--an
honest girl and a beautiful woman and the dowry respectable also. But it
could not be. I felt sorry for Jagienka, but still more so for
Danusia--and I set out to her to Mazowsze, because, I tell you frankly, I
could not live any longer without her. Recollect the time when you
yourself loved--recollect it! and it will not seem strange to you."
Here Zbyszko broke off, waiting for a word from Jurand, but as the latter
remained silent, he continued:
"God gave me an opportunity at the Forest Court to save the princess and
Danusia from a wild bull while hunting. And the princess immediately
said: 'Now Jurand will not object any more, because how could he refuse
to reward such a deed?' But I did not wish to take her even then without
your parental consent. Yet! I was weak,... because the terrible animal
injured me so much, that it almost killed me. But then, as you know,
those people came for Danusia, in order to take her, as it seemed, to
Spychow, and I was still unable to leave my bed. I thought I should never
see her again. I thought that you would take her to Spychow and give her
to some one else. You objected to me at Krakow ... and I already thought
that I should die. Ah! great God, what a night I passed. Nothing but
worry; nothing but grief! I thought that if she also left me, the sun
would rise no more. Consider human love and human grief!"
And, for a moment, tears almost choked Zbyszko's voice, but, having a
courageous heart, he controlled himself and said:
"The people arrived for her in the evening and wanted to take her
immediately, but the princess ordered them to wait until morning. Just
then Jesus inspired me with the idea of presenting the princess with my
compliments and asking her for Danusia. I thought that if I died I should
have that consolation at least. Remember that the girl had to leave,
while I remained ill and nearly dying. There was also no time to ask for
your permission. The prince was no longer in the Forest Court, the
princess therefore weighed both sides because she had nobody to take
counsel with. But they, together with Father Wyszoniek at last took pity
upon me, and Father Wyszoniek performed the ceremony.... God's power,
God's right!..."
But Jurand interrupted, gloomily: "And God's punishment!"
"Why should there be punishment?" inquired Zbyszko. "Consider only, they
had sent for her before the ceremony, and whether it had been performed
or not, they would have carried her off nevertheless."
But Jurand again replied nothing, and rode on alone, gloomy, and with
such a stony face, that though Zbyszko at first felt the relief that
confession of a long concealed thing always produces, at length he was
seized with fear and said to himself, with constantly increasing fear,
that the old knight was bitterly angered, and that thenceforth they would
be strangers and foes to each other. And there came upon him a moment of
great depression. He had never felt so badly since his departure from
Bogdaniec. It seemed to him now that there was no hope of reconciliation
with Jurand, nor, what was far worse, of saving Danusia, that all was of
no avail, and that in the future still greater misfortunes and miseries
would befall him. But this depression of spirits lasted a short while
only, and, in accordance with his nature, it soon changed into anger, and
a desire for quarreling and fight. "He does not want peace," he said to
himself, thinking of Jurand, "then let there be discord, let come what
will!" And he was ready to fly at Jurand's face. He also longed for a
fight with anybody for anything, merely to do something, merely to give
vent to his grief, bitterness and anger, and so find some relief.
Meanwhile they arrived at an inn at a ford called Swietlik, where Jurand,
on his return from the prince's court, usually allowed his people and
horses to rest. He did so now also involuntarily. After a while he and
Zbyszko found themselves alone in a separate chamber. Suddenly Jurand
stopped before the young knight and, fixing his eyes upon him, inquired:
"Did you wander about for her sake?"
The other almost harshly retorted:
"Do you suppose that I shall deny it?" And he looked straight into
Jurand's eyes, ready to meet anger with anger. But there was no
indignation in the old warrior's face; there was only almost boundless
grief.
"And you saved my child?" he inquired, after a moment, "and dug me out?"
But Zbyszko looked at him in astonishment and fear that his mind was
wandering, because Jurand repeated exactly the same questions that he had
already asked.
"Be seated," he said, "because it seems to me that you are still weak."
But Jurand raised his hands, placed them on Zbyszko's shoulders, and so
drew him suddenly with all his strength to his breast; the other,
recovering from a momentary amazement, clasped him round the waist and
they embraced each other for a long time, because mutual anxiety and
mutual woe united them.
After relaxing their hold, Zbyszko again embraced the older knight's
knees, and began to kiss his hands with tears in his eyes.
"Will you not object to me?" he asked.
To that Jurand replied: "I did oppose you, because in my soul I
consecrated her to God."
"You devoted her to God, and God to me. His will!"
"His will!" repeated Jurand. "But now we need mercy also."
"Whom will God help, if not a father who seeks his daughter; if not a
husband who seeks his wife? He will certainly not assist robbers."
"But they captured her nevertheless," answered Jurand.
"Then you will return von Bergow to them."
"I shall return all they wish."
But at the thought of the Teutons, the old passion soon awoke in him and
enfolded him like a flame, because he added after a moment through his
clenched teeth:
"I shall also add to it what they do not want."
"I also swore their ruin," replied Zbyszko, "but now we must make haste
to Spychow."
And he commenced to hasten the saddling of the horses. Accordingly, after
they had eaten their oats, and the men had warmed themselves in the
rooms, they started out, although it was growing dark outside. As the way
was long, and a severe frost had set in for the night, Jurand and
Zbyszko, who had not yet regained their strength, traveled in sledges.
Zbyszko told about Uncle Macko, for whom his heart yearned, and regretted
that he was not present, because his courage as well as craft might be of
use, the latter qualification being more necessary against such foes than
courage. At last he turned to Jurand and inquired:
"And are you cunning?... Because I am not."
"Neither am I," retorted Jurand. "I did not fight them with craft, but
with this hand and that which remained in me."
"I understand that," said the young knight. "I understand it because I
love Danusia and because they carried her off. If, God forbid...."
And he did not finish, because the mere thought made him feel not a human
but a wolfs heart in his breast. For some time they rode silently over a
white, moonlight-flooded road; then Jurand commenced to speak as if to
himself:
"If they only had any reason to take revenge on me--I would not say! But
gracious God! they had none.... I waged war with them in the field, when
sent on an embassy by our prince to Witold, but here I was like a
neighbor to neighbors.... Bartosz Natecz captured, chained and imprisoned
under ground in Kozmin forty knights who attacked him. The Teutons were
compelled to pay half a wagonful of money for them. While I, when a
German guest happened to come on his way to the Teutons, received and
rewarded him like one knight another. Frequently also, the Teutons came
against me across the swamps. I was not hard on them then, and they did
to me what I would not do even to-day to my greatest foe...."
And terrible recollections began to tear him with increasing force, his