The Knights of the Cross, or, Krzyzacy: Historical Romance
longer so as to enable him to carry food to his mouth. Upon his body was
the same coarse sackcloth which he had on when he was arraigned before
the court, but now it was covered with dark blood-stains, because, that
day when the fight ended, only when maddened with pain the frantic knight
was entangled in the net, the soldiers then tried to kill him, struck him
with their halberds and inflicted upon him numerous wounds. The chaplain
interfered and Jurand was not killed outright, but he lost so much blood
that he was carried to prison half dead. In the castle they expected his
death hourly. But owing to his immense strength he prevailed over death,
although they did not attend to his wounds, and he was cast into the
terrible subterranean prison, in which during the daytime when it thawed
drops fell from the roof, but when there was frost the walls were thickly
covered with snow and icicles.
On the ground on the straw lay the powerless man in chains, but he looked
like a piece of flint shaped in human form. Zygfried commanded Diedrich
to throw the light directly upon Jurand's face, then he gazed at it for a
while in silence. Then he turned to Diedrich and said:
"Observe, he has only one eye--destroy it."
There was something in his voice like sickness and decrepitude, and for
that very reason, the horrible order sounded more terrible, so that the
torch began somewhat to tremble in the hand of the executioner. Yet he
inclined it toward Jurand's face, and in a moment big drops of burning
tar began to fall upon the eye of Jurand, covering it entirely from the
brow down to the projecting cheek bone.
Jurand's face twitched, his grey mustachios moved, but he did not utter a
single word of complaint. Whether it was from exhaustion, or the grand
fortitude of his terrible nature, he did not even groan.
Zygfried said:
"It has been promised that you shall be freed, and you shall be, but you
shall not be able to accuse the Order, for your tongue, which you might
use against it, shall be torn out."
Then he again signaled to the executioner who replied with a strange
guttural sound and showed by signs that for this he roust employ both
hands, and therefore wanted the count to hold the light.
Then the old count took the torch and held it in his outstretched,
trembling hand, but when Diedrich pressed Jurand's chest with his knees
Zygfried turned his head and looked at the hoarfrost covered wall.
For a while resounded the clank of the chains, followed by the suppressed
panting of a human breast which sounded like one dull, deep groan--and
then all was still.
Finally Zygfried said:
"Jurand, the punishment which you have suffered you have deserved; but I
have promised to Brother Rotgier, whom your son-in-law has killed, to
place your right hand in his coffin."
Diedrich, who had just got up from his last deed, bent again upon the
prostrate form of Jurand, when he heard Zygfried's words.
After a little while, the old count and Diedrich found themselves again
in that open courtyard which was illuminated by the bright moon. When
they reëntered the corridor, Zygfried took the lantern from Diedrich,
also a dark object wrapped up in a rag, and said to himself in a loud
voice,
"Now to the chapel and then to the tower."
Diedrich looked keenly at the count, but the count commanded him to go to
sleep; he covered himself, hanging the lantern near the lighted window of
the chapel and left. On his way he meditated upon what had just taken
place. He was almost sure that his own end had also arrived and that
these were his last deeds in this world, and that he would have to
account for them before God. But his soul, the soul of a "Knight of the
Cross," although naturally more cruel than mendacious, had in the course
of inexorable necessity got accustomed to fraud, assassination and
concealing the sanguinary deeds of the Order, he now involuntarily sought
to cast off the ignominy and responsibility for Jurand's tortures, from
both himself and the Order. Diedrich was dumb and could not confess, and,
although he could make himself understood with the chaplain, he would be
afraid to do so. What then? Nobody would know. Jurand might well have
received all his wounds during the fight. He might have easily lost his
tongue by the thrust of a lance between his teeth. An axe or a sword
might have easily cut off his right hand. He had only one eye; would it
be strange therefore that the other eye was lost in the fracas, for he
threw himself madly upon the whole garrison of Szczytno. Alas! Jurand!
His last joy in life trembled for a moment in the heart of the old Knight
of the Cross. So, should Jurand survive, he ought to be set free. At
this, Zygfried remembered a conversation he had had once with Rotgier
about this, when that young brother laughingly remarked: "Then let him go
where _his eyes will carry him_, and if he does not happen to strike
Spychow, then let him _make inquiries_ on the road." For that which had
now happened was a part of the prearranged programme between them. But
now Zygfried reentered the chapel and, kneeling in front of the coffin,
he laid at Rotgier's feet Jurand's bleeding hand; that last joy which
startled him was only for a moment and quickly disappeared, for the last
time, from his face.
"You see," he said, "I have done more than we agreed to do. For King John
of Luxemburg, although he was blind, kept on fighting and perished
gloriously. But Jurand can stand no more and will perish like a dog
behind the fence."
At this he again felt that shortness of breath that had seized him on his
way to Jurand, also a weight on his head as of a heavy iron helmet, but
this only lasted a second. Then he drew a deep breath and said:
"Ah! My time has also come. You were the only one I had; but now I have
none. But if I lived longer, I vow to you, O little son, that I would
also place upon your grave that hand which killed you, or perish myself.
The murderer who killed you is still alive...."
Here his teeth clinched and such an intense cramp seized him that he
could not speak for some time. Then he began again, but in a broken
voice:
"Yes, your murderer still lives, but I will cut him to pieces ... and
others with him, and I will inflict upon them tortures even worse than
death itself...."
Then he ceased.
In a moment he rose again and approaching the coffin, he began to speak
in quiet tones,
"Now I take leave of you ... and look into your face for the last time;
perhaps I shall be able to see in your face whether you are pleased with
my promises.... The last time."
Then he uncovered Rotgier's face, but suddenly he retreated.
"You are smiling, ..." he said, "but you are smiling terribly...."
In fact, the frozen corpse, which was covered with the mantle, had
thawed. It may be from the heat of the burning candles, it had begun to
decompose with extraordinary rapidity, and the face of the young count
looked indeed terrible. The enormously swollen, and livid mouth looked
something monstrous, the blue and swollen curled lips had the appearance
of a grinning smile.
Zygfried covered that terrible human mask as quickly as possible.
Then he took the lantern and left the chapel. Here again, for the third
time, he felt shortness of breath; he entered the house and threw himself
upon his hard bed of the Order and lay for a time motionless. He thought
he would fall asleep, when suddenly a strange feeling overpowered him; it
seemed to him that he would never again be able to sleep, and that if he
remained in that house death would soon follow.
Zygfried, in his extreme weariness, and without hope of sleep, was not
afraid of death; on the contrary he regarded it as an exceedingly great
relief. But he had no wish to submit himself to it that evening. So he
sat up in his bed and cried:
"Give me time till to-morrow."
Then he distinctly heard a voice whispering in his ear:
"Leave this house. It will be too late to-morrow and you will not be able
to accomplish your promise. Leave this house!"
The count got up with difficulty and went out. The guards were calling to
one another from the bastions upon the palisades. The light emanating
from the windows of the chapel illuminated the snow in front with a
yellow gleam. In the middle of the court near the stone wall were two
black dogs playing and tugging at a black rag. Beyond this the courtyard
was empty and silent.
"It is yet necessary this night!" said Zygfried. "I am exceedingly tired,
but I must go.... All are asleep. Jurand, overcome by torture, might also
be asleep. I only am unable to sleep. I will go. I will go, for there is
death within, and I have promised you.... Let death come afterward; sleep
will not come. You are smiling there, but my strength is failing me. You
are smiling, you are apparently glad. But you see that my fingers are
benumbed, my hands have lost their strength, and I cannot accomplish it
by myself ... the servant with whom she sleeps will accomplish it...."
Then he moved on with heavy steps toward the tower situated near the
gate. Meanwhile the dogs which were playing near the stone wall came
running up and began to fawn upon him. In one of them Zygfried recognized
the bulldog which was so much attached to Diedrich that it was said in
the castle that it served him as a pillow at night.
The dog greeted the count, it barked low once or twice; and then returned
toward the gate acting as though it had divined his thoughts.
After a while Zygfried found himself in front of the narrow little doors
of the tower, which at night were barred on the outside. Removing the
bars, he felt for the balustrade of the stairs which commenced quite near
the doors and began to ascend. In his absentmindedness he forgot the
lantern; he therefore went up gropingly, stepping carefully and feeling
with his feet for the steps.
Having advanced a few steps, he suddenly halted, when below quite near
him he heard something like the breathing of a man, or beast.
"Who is there?"
But there was no answer, only the breathing grew quicker.
Zygfried was not a timid man; he was not afraid of death. But the
preceding terrible night had quite exhausted his courage and
self-control. It crossed his mind that Rotgier or the evil spirit was
barring his way, and his hair stood up on his head and his brow was
covered with cold sweat.
He retreated to the very entrance.
"Who is there?" he asked, with a choked voice.
But at that moment something struck him a powerful blow on his chest, so
terrible that the old man fell through the door upon his back and
swooned. He did not even groan.
Silence followed, after which there could be seen a dark form, stealthily
issuing from the tower and making off toward the stable which was
situated on the left side of the courtyard near the arsenal. Diedrich's
big bulldog followed that figure silently. The other dog also ran after
him and disappeared in the shadow of the wall, but shortly appeared again
with its head to the ground, scenting as it were the trail of the other
dog. In this manner the dog approached the prostrate and lifeless body of
Zygfried, which it smelled carefully, then crouched near the head of the
prostrate man and began to howl.
The howling continued for a long while, filling the air of that sombre
night with a new kind of dolefulness and horror. Finally the small door
concealed in the middle of the gate creaked and a guard armed with a
halberd appeared in the courtyard.
"Death upon that dog," he said, "I'll teach you to howl during the
night."
And he aimed the sharp end of the halberd so as to hit the animal with
it, but at that moment he observed something lying near the little open
door of the bastion.
"Lord Jesus! what is that?..."