The Knights of the Cross, or, Krzyzacy: Historical Romance
and subscribed to funds for the repair of churches. Therefore every
beggar, sexton, yea even every priest they met remembered him with
gratitude. They generally said: "He traveled like an angel," and prayed
for his recovery, although here and there were heard more expressions of
apprehension that his everlasting rest was drawing nigh, than hopes of
temporary recovery. In some places he had taken supplies enough for two
or three days. It seemed to Macko that most likely he would be able to
overtake him.
Yet Macko was mistaken in his calculations. The overflow of the rivers
Ner and Bzur prevented them from arriving at Lenczyca. They were obliged
to take up their quarters for four days at a deserted inn, whose owner
apparently had fled on account of the threatening floods. The road
leading from the inn to the town which to a certain extent was repaired
with stumps of trees was submerged for a considerable stretch in the
muddy flood. Macko's servant, Wit, a native of that locality, had some
knowledge of the road leading through the woods, but he refused to act as
guide, because he knew that the marshes of Lenczyca were the rendezvous
of unclean spirits, especially the powerful Borut who delighted in
leading people to bottomless swamps, whence escape was only possible by
forfeiture of the soul. Even the inn itself was held in bad repute, so
that travelers used to provision themselves with victuals to avoid
hunger. Even old Macko was scared of this place. During the night they
heard skirmishing upon the roof of the inn; at times there were also
rappings at the door. Jagienka and Sieciechowa, who slept in the alcove
near the large room, also heard the sound of little footsteps upon the
ceiling and walls during the night-time. They were apparently not afraid
of it, because at Zgorzelice they were accustomed to croaking birds. Old
Zych, in his time, fed them, according to the then prevailing custom
there were not wanting those who would provide them with crusts, and they
were not mischievous. But on a certain night, from the neighboring
thickets resounded a dull ominous bellowing, and the following morning
they discovered huge cloven-foot traces upon the mud. They might have
been of aurochs or bison, but Wit was of opinion that the traces were
those of Borut, and although his outward appearance is that of a man,
even of a nobleman, he has cloven instead of human feet. But owing to
parsimony he takes off his boots when crossing the swamps. Macko was
informed that one could appease him with drink; he considered during the
whole day whether it would be sinful to gain the friendship of the evil
spirit. He even took counsel with Jagienka on the same subject.
"I should like to suspend upon the fence a bull's bladder full of wine or
mead," he said, "and if it were found that something of the drink were
missing, then it would be conclusive proof that the evil spirit was
present."
"But that might displease the heavenly powers," replied Jagienka, "of
whose blessing we stand in need to assist us in succoring Zbyszko
successfully."
"I, too, am afraid, but I think that a little mead is not the soul. I
shall not give him my soul. One bladder full of wine or mead, I think, is
of little significance in the eyes of the heavenly powers!"
Then he lowered his voice and added:
"One nobleman entertains another even if he is a useless fellow, and they
say he is a nobleman."
"Who?" asked Jagienka.
"I do not want to mention the name of the unclean spirit."
Nevertheless, Macko, with his own hands suspended the same evening a
large bull's bladder in which drink is usually carried, and it was found
empty the following morning.
When that was related to the Bohemian, he laughed heartily, but nobody
paid attention to it. Macko, however, was filled with joy, because he
expected that when he should attempt to cross the swamp no mishap would
occur on that account.
"Unless they told an untruth when they said that he knows honor," he said
to himself.
Above all things it was necessary to investigate if there was a passage
through the woods. It might have been so, because where the soil was made
firm by the roots of the trees and other growths, it did not easily
soften by the rains; although Wit, who belonged in the locality, could
best perform that service, he refused to go, and when his name was
suggested, he shouted: "Better kill me. I shall not go."
Then they explained to him that the unclean spirits are powerless during
the daytime. Macko himself was willing to go, but it was finally arranged
that Hlawa should venture, because he was a bold fellow, agreeable to
all, specially to the ladies. He put an axe in his belt, and in his hand
a scythe, and left.
He left early in the morning and was expected to return about noon, but
he did not, and they began to be alarmed. Later on, the servants were
watching at the edge of the forest, and in the afternoon Wit waved his
hand as a sign that Hlawa had not returned, and should he return the
danger is greater for us, for God knows whether, owing to a wolf's bite,
he is not transformed into a werewolf. Hearing this, all were frightened;
even Macko was not himself. Jagienka turned toward the forest and made
the sign of the cross. But Anulka searched in vain in her skirt and apron
for something with which to cover her eyes, but finding nothing she
covered them with her fingers, from between which tears began to trickle
in big drops.
However, toward evening time, just at the spot where the sun was about to
set, the Bohemian appeared, and that, not by himself, but accompanied by
a human figure whom he drove in front of him on a rope. All rushed out
toward him with shouts of joy. But at the sight of the figure they became
silent; it was dwarfed, monkey-like, hairy, black and dressed in wolf
skin.
"In the name of the Father and Son tell me; what is this figure you have
brought," shouted Macko.
"How do I know?" replied the Bohemian. "He said that he was a man and a
pitch-burner, but I don't know whether he told me the truth."
"Oh, he is not a man, no," said Wit.
But Macko ordered him to be quiet; then he looked carefully around him
and suddenly said:
"Cross yourself. We are accustomed to cross ourselves when with the
spirits...."
"Praised be Jesus Christ!" exclaimed the prisoner, and crossed himself as
fast as he could. He breathed deeply, looked with great confidence at the
group and said:
"Praised be Jesus Christ. I too, O Jesus, was uncertain whether I was in
Christian or in the devil's power."
"Fear not, you are among Christians, who attend the holy Mass. What are
you then?"
"I am a pitch-burner, sir, dwelling in a tent. There are seven of us who
dwell in tents with our families."
"How far are you from here?"
"Not quite ten furlongs."
"How do you get to town?"
"We have our private road along the 'Devil's Hollow.'"
"Along what? The Devil's?... then cross yourself again."
"In the name of the Father, Son, and the Holy Ghost. Amen."
"Very well. Is that road practicable for vehicles?"
"Now there is quagmire everywhere, although there is less near the Hollow
than upon the regular road; owing to the access of the wind the mud is
quickly dried up. But farther on to Buda the road is bad. But those who
know the track push through it slowly."
"Will you lead us for a florin or two?"
The pitch-burner accepted the offer willingly, but begged for half a loaf
of bread, which he said is very scarce in the woods and he had seen none
for some time past. It was arranged that they should start very early the
next morning, because it was "not good to travel in the evening," he
said. "There at Boruca ghosts storm terribly, but they do no harm. But
being jealous for the Lenczyca principality they chase away other devils
into the bushes. It is only bad to meet them during the night, especially
when a man is drunk, but the sober need not be afraid."
"You were afraid nevertheless," said Macko.
"Because that knight unexpectedly grasped me with such strength that I
took him for another being."
Then Jagienka smiled that all of them took the pitch-burner to be the
devil, and he thought them to be the same. Anulka and Sieciechowa laughed
at Macko's words, when he said:
"Your eyes are not yet dry from weeping for Hlawa; now you are laughing?"
The Bohemian looked at the girl, he observed her eyelids which were still
moist, then he asked:
"Did you cry for me?"
"Of course not," replied the girl. "I was only scared."
"You ought to be ashamed. Are you not a noblewoman, and a noblewoman like
your mistress is not afraid. Nothing evil could happen to you in the
middle of the day, and among people."
"Nothing to me, but to you."
"Yet you said that you did not cry for me."
"I insist, not for you."
"Then why did you cry?"
"From fear."
"You are not afraid now?"
"No."
"Why?"
"Because you have returned."
Then the Bohemian looked at her with gratitude, smiled, and said:
"Bah! If we kept on talking in that manner we might have continued till
morning. What a smart woman you are!"
"Make no fun of me," quietly replied Sieciechowa. In fact she was as
smart as any woman; and Hlawa who was himself a cunning fellow understood
it well. He knew that the girl's attachment to him was daily increasing.
He loved Jagienka, but the love was that of a subject for his king's
daughter, and with great humility and reverence, and without any other
motive. Meanwhile the journey brought him in closer contact with
Sieciechowa. When on the march old Macko and Jagienka usually rode side
by side in front, while Hlawa and Sieciechowa were together in the rear.
He was as strong as a urus and hot-blooded, so that when looking straight
into her lovely bright eyes, at her flaxen locks which escaped from under
her bonnet, upon her whole slender and well-shaped figure, especially at
her admirably shaped limbs gripping the black pony, his whole frame
trembled. He could restrain himself no longer. The more he looked upon
those charms the more intense and longing his gaze became. He
involuntarily thought that if the devil were to assume the form of that
girl he would have no difficulty in leading one into temptation. She was
moreover of a sweet temperament, very obedient, and lively, like a
sparrow upon the roof. Sometimes strange thoughts crossed the Bohemian's
mind; once when he and Anulka remained somewhat in the rear near the
packhorses, he suddenly turned toward her and said:
"Do you know I shall devour you here as a wolf devours a lamb."
She heartily laughed, and showed her pretty little white teeth.
"Do you want to eat me?" she asked.
"Yes I even with the little bones."
And he cast such a look at her that she melted under his glances. Then
they lapsed into silence, only their hearts were beating intensely, his
with desire, and hers with pleasurable intoxication tinged with fear.
But the Bohemian's passion at first entirely prevailed over his
tenderness, and when he said that he looked at Anulka like a wolf at a
lamb, he told the truth. Only on that evening when he observed her
eyelids and cheeks moistened with tears, his heart became softened She
seemed to him as good, as though near to him and as though she were
already his own, and as he himself was upright by nature, and at the same
time a knight, he not only was elated with pride, and not hardened at the
sight of the sweet tears, but he courageously continued gazing at her.
His wonted gaiety of conversation left him, and although he continued to
jest in the evening with the timid girl, yet it was of a different
nature. He treated her as a knightly armor-bearer ought to treat a
noblewoman.
Old Macko was chiefly occupied in thinking of the journey, and the