The Knights of the Cross, or, Krzyzacy: Historical Romance
accurate information, they could by no means tell where Zbyszko actually
was. On the other hand Macko himself knew better where Zbyszko might be
found, and it was not difficult to suppose that he was at that moment
somewhere in the neighborhood of Szczytno; or in case he had not found
Danusia there, he was making research in distant eastern castles and
county seats.
Without losing any more time, they also moved toward the east and
Szczytno. They progressed well on the road, the towns and villages were
connected by highways which the Knights of the Cross, or rather the
merchants of the towns, kept in good condition, and which were as good as
the Polish roads, which were under the care of the thrifty and energetic
King Kazimierz. The weather was excellent, the nights were serene, the
days bright, and about noon a dry and warm zephyr-like wind blew which
filled the human breast with health-giving air. The cornfields assumed a
green hue, the meadows were covered with abundant flowers, and the pine
forests began to emit a smell of rosin. Throughout the whole journey to
Lidzbark, thence to Dzialdowa, and further on to Niedzborz, they did not
see a single cloud. But at Niedzborz they encountered a thunderstorm at
night, which was the first one of the spring, but it lasted only a short
time, and in the morning it cleared up and the horizon was brightened
with rosy golden hues. It was so brilliant that the land, as far as the
eye could reach, appeared like one carpet brocaded with jewels. It seemed
as though the whole country smiled back to the sky and rejoiced because
of abundant life.
In such a pleasant morning they wended their course from Niedzborz to
Szczytno. It was not far from the Mazovian frontier. It was an easy
matter to return to Spychow. There was a moment when Macko wanted to do
it, but considering the whole matter he desired to push onward toward the
terrible nest of the Knights of the Cross, in which Zbyszko's loss was
terribly guarded. He then engaged a guide and ordered him to lead them
directly to Szczytno; although there was no need of a guide, because the
road from Niedzborz was a straight one, marked with white milestones.
The guide was a few steps in advance. Behind him were Macko and Jagienka
on horseback; some distance behind them were the Bohemian and
Sieciechowa, and farther back were the wagons surrounded by armed men. It
was an exquisite morning. The rosy glow had not yet disappeared from the
horizon, although the sun had already risen and changed into opals the
dewdrops upon the trees and grasses.
"Are you not afraid to go to Szczytno?" asked Macko.
"I am not afraid," replied Jagienka, "God is with me, because I am an
orphan."
"There is no faith there. The worst dog was Danveld whom Jurand killed
together with Godfried.... The Bohemian told me so. The second after
Danveld, was Rotgier, who succumbed by Zbyszko's axe, but the old man is
a ruthless tyrant, and is sold to the devil.... They know not kindness.
However, I am of opinion that if Danuska has perished she did so by his
own hands. They also say that something happened to her. But the princess
said in Plock that she extricated herself. It is with him that we shall
have to contend at Szczytno.... It is well that we have a letter from
Lichtenstein, and as it appears they, the dog-brothers, are afraid of him
more than they are of the master himself.... They say that he has great
authority and is particularly strict, and is very revengeful, he never
forgives even the slightest offence.... Without this safe conduct I would
not travel so peacefully to Szczytno...."
"What is his name?"
"Zygfried von Löve."
"God grant that we may manage him too."
"God grant it!"
Macko smiled for a moment and then said:
"The princess also told me in Plock: 'Ye grieve and complain like lambs
against wolves, but in this instance three of the wolves are dead,
because the innocent lambs strangled them.' She spoke the truth; it is
actually so."
"What about Danuska and her father?"
"I told the princess the very same thing. But I am really glad, since it
is demonstrated that it is not safe to harm us. We know already how to
handle the helve of an axe, and fight with it. As to Danuska and Jurand,
it is true, I think, and so does the Bohemian, that they are no more in
this world, but in reality nobody can tell. I am very sorry for Jurand,
for he grieved very much for his daughter, and if he perished, it was a
hard death."
"If such a thing is mentioned to me," said Jagienka, "I always think of
papa, who also is no more."
Then she lifted up her eyes and Macko nodded his head and said:
"He rests with God in everlasting bliss, for there is not a better man
than he was in our whole kingdom...."
"Oh there was none like him, none!" sighed Jagienka.
Further conversation was interrupted by the guide, who suddenly checked
his stallion, turned and galloped toward Macko and shouted in a strange
and frightened voice:
"O, for God's sake! Look there, Sir Knight; who is there on the hillside
advancing toward us?"
"Who? Where?" asked Macko.
"Look there! A giant or something of that kind...."
Macko and Jagienka reined in their horses, looked in the direction
indicated by the guide, and they indeed descried, about the middle of the
hill, a figure, which appeared to be of more than human proportions.
"To tell the truth the man seems to be huge," murmured Macko.
Then he frowned, and suddenly spat and said:
"Let the evil charm be upon the dog."
"Why are you conjuring?" asked Jagienka.
"Because I remember that it was on just such a fine morning when Zbyszko
and I were on the road from Tyniec to Krakow we saw such a giant. They
said then that it was Walgierz Wdaly. Bah! It was shown afterward that it
was the lord of Taczew. Still, nothing good resulted from it. Let the
evil charm be upon the dog."
"This one is not a knight, because he is not on horseback," said
Jagienka, straining her eyes. "I even see that he is not armed, but holds
a staff in his left hand...."
"And he is groping in front of him, as though it were night."
"And can hardly move; surely he must be blind?"
"As sure as I live, he is blind--blind!"
They urged their horses forward, and in a little while they halted in
front of the beggar who was slowly coming down the hill and feeling his
way with his staff. He was indeed an immense old man, and appeared to
them, even when they were near him, a giant. They were convinced that he
was stone blind. Instead of eyes he had two red hollows. His right hand
was wanting; instead of it he carried a bandage of dirty rags. His hair
was white and falling down upon his shoulders, and his beard reached his
belt.
"He has neither food, nor companion, not even a dog, but is feeling the
way by himself," exclaimed Jagienka. "For God's sake, we cannot leave him
here without assistance. I do not know whether he will understand me, but
I shall try to talk to him in Polish."
Then she jumped from her horse and approached the beggar, and began to
look for some money in her leather pouch which was suspended from her
belt.
The beggar, when he heard the noise and tramping of the horses, stretched
his staff in front of him and lifted up his head as blind men do.
"Praised be Jesus Christ," said the girl. "Do you understand, little
grandfather, in the Christian fashion?"
But on hearing her sweet, young voice, he trembled; a strange flush
appeared on his face as though from tender emotion; he covered his hollow
orbits with his eyebrows, and suddenly threw down his staff and fell on
his knees, with outstretched arms, in front of her.
"Get up! I will assist you. What ails you?" asked Jagienka in
astonishment.
But he did not reply, but tears rolled down his cheeks, and he groaned:
"A!--a!--a!..."
"For the love of God--Can you not say something?"
"A!--a!"
Then he lifted up his hand, with which he made first the sign of the
cross, then passed his left hand over his mouth.
Jagienka understood it not, and she looked at Macko, who said:
"He seems to indicate that his tongue has been torn out."
"Did they tear out your tongue?" asked the girl.
"A! a! a! a!" repeated the beggar several times, nodding his head.
Then he pointed with his fingers to his eyes; then he moved his left hand
across his maimed right, showing that it was cut off.
Then both understood him.
"Who did it?" inquired Jagienka.
The beggar again made signs of the cross repeatedly in the air.
"The Knights of the Cross," shouted Macko.
As a sign of affirmation the old man let his head drop upon his chest
again.
There was silence for a moment. Macko and Jagienka looked at each other
with alarm, because they had now before them sufficient proof of their
cruelty and the lack of means to chastise those knights who style
themselves "the Knights of the Cross."
"Cruel justice!" said Macko, finally. "They punished him grievously, and
God knows whether deservedly. If I only knew where he belongs, I would
lead him there, for surely he must be from this neighborhood. He
understands our language, for the common people here are the same as in
Mazowsze."
"Did you understand what we said?" asked Jagienka.
The beggar nodded his head.
"Are you of this neighborhood?"
"No!" The beggar shook his head.
"Perhaps he comes from Mazowsze?"
"Yes!" he nodded.
"Under Prince Janusz?"
"Yes!"
"But what were you doing among the Knights of the Cross?"
The old man could give no answer, but his face assumed an air of intense
suffering, so much so that Jagienka's heart beat with greater force out
of sympathy. Even Macko who was not subject to emotion, said:
"I am sure the dog-brothers have wronged him. May be he is innocent."
Jagienka meanwhile put some small change in the beggar's hand.
"Listen," she said, "we will not abandon you. Come with us to Mazowsze,
and in every village we will ask you whether it is yours. May be we shall
guess it. Meanwhile, get up, for we are no saints."
But he did not get up, nay, he even bowed lower and embraced her feet as
much as to place himself under her protection and show his gratitude. Yet
there were marks of certain astonishment, yea even disappointment on his
face. May be that from the voice he thought he was in the presence of a
young woman; but his hand happened to touch the cowskin gaiters which the
knights and armor-bearers were accustomed to wear.
But she said:
"It shall be so; our wagons will soon be here, then you will rest and
refresh yourself. But we are not going to take you now to Mazowsze
because we must first go to Szczytno."
When the old man heard this, he jumped straight up, terror and amazement
were depicted on his face. He opened his arms as though desiring to
obstruct their way, and strange, wild ejaculations proceeded from his
throat, full of terror and dismay.
"What is the matter with you?" exclaimed Jagienka, much frightened.
But the Bohemian, who had already arrived with Sieciechowa, and for some
time had his eyes riveted upon the old beggar, suddenly turned to Macko,
and with a countenance changed, and in a strange voice, said:
"For God's sake, permit me, sir, to speak to him, for you do not know who
he may be."
After this he begged for no further permission, but rushed toward the old
man, placed his hands upon his shoulders, and asked him:
"Do you come from Szczytno?"
The old man appeared to be struck by the sound of his voice, quieted
himself and nodded affirmatively.
"Did you not look there for your child? ..."
A deep groan was the only reply to this question.
Then the Bohemian's face paled a little, he looked sharply for a moment
at the outlines of the old man's face, then he said slowly and
composedly: