The Knights of the Cross, or, Krzyzacy: Historical Romance
"The knight Arnold. Let me throw a few branches upon the embers, then I
will go to the men."
Then he left, and hastily returned in a little while, and from a distance
he called in a low voice:
"Sir, there is news, bad news!"
"What has happened?" Macko exclaimed, jumping to his feet.
"The servant has escaped. The men took her among the horses. May thunder
strike them, and when they fell asleep, she sneaked like a serpent from
among them and escaped. Come, sir!"
Macko, in alarm, moved quickly with the Bohemian toward the horses, where
they found only one man, the others had scattered in pursuit of the
fugitive. But, considering the darkness of the night and the thickets of
the forest, the search was a foolish undertaking, and after a while they
returned with hanging heads. Macko began to belabor them quietly with his
fists. Then he returned to the fireplace, for there was nothing to be
done.
Zbyszko, who was watching in the hut and did not sleep, came in, hearing
the movements, to ascertain the reason. Macko told him all about his
consultation with the Bohemian, then he also informed him of the woman's
escape.
"It is not a great misfortune," he said. "Because she will either die of
starvation, or fall into the hands of the peasants who will flay her;
that is, if she succeeds first in escaping the wolves. It is only to be
regretted that she escaped the punishment at Spychow."
Zbyszko also regretted her escaping punishment at Spychow; otherwise he
received the news quietly. He did not oppose the departure of the
Bohemian with Zygfried, because he was indifferent to anything which did
not directly concern Danusia. He began to talk about her at once.
"I shall take her in front of me on horseback to-morrow, then we shall
proceed."
"How is it there? Is she asleep?" inquired Macko.
"At times she moans, but I do not know whether she does it in sleep or
whilst she is awake, but I don't want to disturb her, lest I frighten
her."
Further conversation was interrupted by the Bohemian, who observing
Zbyszko, exclaimed:
"O! your honor, also here! It is now time for me to start. The horses are
ready and the old devil is fastened to the saddle. It will soon begin to
dawn because now the nights are short. Good-bye, your grace!"
"God be with you, and health!"
But Hlawa pulled Macko aside again and said:
"I wish also to ask you kindly, that in case anything should happen....
You know, sir ... some misfortune or another ... you would dispatch a
courier posthaste to Spychow. If we have left Spychow, let him overtake
us."
"Well," said Macko, "I have also forgotten to tell you to take Jagienka
to Plock. Do you understand? Go there to the bishop, and tell him who she
is, that she is the goddaughter of the abbot, for whom there is a will in
the bishop's possession; then ask his guardianship for her, as that is
also mentioned in the abbot's will."
"But if the bishop orders us to remain in Plock?"
"Then obey him in everything and follow his counsel."
"It shall be so, sir! Good-bye!"
"Good-bye!"
CHAPTER II.
Sir Arnold was informed in the morning of the flight of the servant of
the Order; he chuckled at the news, on the other hand he held the same
opinion as Macko, viz, that she might fall a prey to the wolves, or be
slain by the Lithuanians. The latter was not at all improbable, since the
inhabitants of that locality who were descendants of the Lithuanians
abhorred the Order and all those who came in contact with it. Some of the
male population had joined Skirwoillo, others had risen in arms and
slaughtered the Germans here and there; they, their families and their
cattle hid themselves in the inaccessible fastnesses of the forest. They
searched the following day for the servant, but without success, because
Macko and Zbyszko were occupied with more important matters; hence the
lack of indispensable ardor in the searchers.
They were obliged to push on toward Mazowsze; they wished to start at
once, at the rising of the sun, but they were unable to do so because
Danuska was in a profound sleep, and Zbyszko would not permit her to be
disturbed.
He listened to her moanings during the night-time and thought that she
was not asleep. He, therefore, promised himself good results. Twice he
stealthily went into the hut; twice he saw by the light falling through
crevices of the logs her closed eyes, open mouth and glowing face, as
little children are wont to have when asleep. His tears melted his heart
at that sight, and he said to her:
"May God grant you health my most beloved little flower." Then he
continued: "Your troubles are ended, your tears are ended. May the most
merciful Lord Jesus grant that your happiness may be as inexhaustible as
the flowing river."
Then, lifting up his simple and upright heart heavenward, he asked
himself: "With what can I thank Thee? What shall I render to Thee for Thy
favors? Shall I offer to the Church some of my wealth, grain, herds, wax,
or something of the same nature acceptable to God?" He was even about to
vow and name accurately his offerings, but he wished to wait and see the
result when Danusia awoke, whether she had recovered her senses so that
there might be reason for thanksgiving.
Although Macko knew well that there would be perfect safety when once in
the domains of Prince Janusz, nevertheless he was also of the opinion
that it was better not to disturb Danusia's rest. He therefore kept his
horses and servants in readiness but waited.
Nevertheless when it was past noon and Danusia continued to sleep, they
were somewhat alarmed. Zbyszko, who was incessantly watching, looking
through the crevices and door, entered suddenly for the third time into
the hut and sat down upon the block where the servant had dressed Danusia
yesterday.
He sat and gazed at her, but she had her eyes closed. But after the lapse
of a short time, not more than it takes to say one "Pater" and "Ave
Maria," her lips began to twitch a little, and she whispered as though
she saw through her closed eyelids:
"Zbyszko...."
In an instant be threw himself upon his knees in front of her, grasped
her emaciated hands, which he kissed in ecstasy. Then he addressed her in
a broken voice:
"Thank God! Danuska! You recognize me."
His voice awoke her completely. Then she sat up in the bed and with open
eyes she repeated:
"Zbyszko!"
Then she began to blink and look around her in amazement.
"You are no more in captivity," said Zbyszko. "I have rescued you from
their hands and I am taking you to Spychow."
But she withdrew her hands from Zbyszko's and said:
"All this came to pass because there was no permission from dear papa.
Where is the princess?"
"Awake, then, dear little berry! The princess is far away and we have
rescued you from the Germans."
Then she appeared not to notice his words but seemed to try to recollect
something.
"They have also taken away my little lute and have broken it against the
wall. Hey!"
"O God!" exclaimed Zbyszko.
He then observed that she was absent-minded and her eyes were glassy and
her cheeks were glowing, and it struck him that she must be very ill, and
the mention of his name twice was due to feverish hallucinations.
This caused his heart to tremble within him with despair and a cold sweat
covered his brow.
"Danuska!" he said. "Do you see and understand me?"
But she replied in a low voice:
"Drink! Water!"
"Gracious Lord!"
And he rushed out, and at the door encountered Macko, who was coming to
ascertain her condition. Zbyszko could only tell him hurriedly, "Water;"
and then hastened to the stream which ran among neighboring bushes.
He returned after a moment with a full pitcher of water and handed it to
Danusia who drank it with much avidity. Macko entered the hut before
Zbyszko and seeing the patient he became gloomy.
"She is feverish?" he said.
"Yes!" groaned Zbyszko.
"Does she understand what you say?"
"No."
The old knight furrowed his brow, then he began to rub his neck and nape
with his hands.
"What is to be done?"
"I do not know."
"There is only one thing to be done," said Macko.
But Danusia, who finished drinking, interrupted him at that moment; she
fixed her dilated pupils on him, and said:
"You too I have not offended, have mercy upon me!"
"We have pitied you already, child. We only desire your welfare," replied
the old knight, somewhat agitated.
Then he turned to Zbyszko:
"Listen, there is no use to leave her here. The wafting of the wind and
the rays of the sun will probably benefit her. Do not lose your head,
boy, but take her to the same cradle wherein she was when they brought
her here--or upon the saddle and let us move on! Do you understand?"
Then he left the hut to give the last orders, but he had scarcely looked
in front of him, when he suddenly stood still--as if nailed to the spot.
A numerous host of infantry armed with pikes and spears was surrounding
the huts, ovens and clearing, on all sides like a wall.
"Germans!" thought Macko.
He was greatly terrified, but in a moment he grasped the hilt of his
sword, clenched his teeth, and had the appearance of a wild beast at bay,
ready to defend himself desperately.
Then the giant-like Arnold, and another knight, advanced toward them from
the shanty, and when he approached Macko, Arnold said:
"Fortune's wheel turns rapidly. I was your prisoner yesterday; you are
mine to-day."
Then he looked haughtily at the old knight as one looks upon an inferior
person. He was neither a very bad man, nor a very cruel one, but he had
the defect common to all Knights of the Cross, who in spite of their
being well-bred and even humane, looked with contempt upon those whom
they conquered, neither could they suppress their great pride when they
felt themselves the stronger.
"You are prisoners," he repeated, haughtily.
The old knight looked around gloomily; he was very serious but audacious
in his heart.
Were he armored, upon his charger, and with Zbyszko at his side;--if both
had swords in their hands and were armed with axes, or the terrible
"woods," which the Polish noblemen knew how to wield dexterously, he
would then have probably attempted to break through, that wall of lances
and spears. Not without reason did the foreign knights, quoting it as an
objection, exclaim to the Polish in the fight near Wilno: "You scorn
death too much."
But Macko was on foot facing Arnold, alone, without his coat of mail. He
therefore looked around and observed that his men had already thrown down
their arms, and he thought that Zbyszko too was with Danusia in the hut,
entirely unarmed. As an experienced man, and much accustomed to war, he
knew that there was no chance whatever.
Therefore he slowly drew the short sword from its sheath and threw it at
the feet of the knight who stood at Arnold's side, who without the least
of Arnold's haughtiness, but at the same time with benevolence, replied
in excellent Polish:
"Your name, sir? I shall not put you in bonds but shall parole you,
because I see you are a belted knight, and you treated my brother well."
"My word!" replied Macko.
Having informed him who he was, Macko inquired whether he would be
permitted to go to the hut and warn his nephew against any mad action.
His request was granted. He entered and remained there for a while and
emerged with the _misericordia_ in his hands.
"My nephew is even without a sword, and he begs you to permit him to
remain with his wife as long as you intend to stay here."
"Let him remain," said Arnold's brother. "I shall send him food and
drink; we shall not move soon, because the people are tired out and we
too are in need of refreshment and rest. Sir, we also invite you to
accompany us."