Upon hearing these words, rays of light crossed Jurand's face and he nodded to them to bring the prisoner near him. And in the twinkling of an eye, two men grasped him by the shoulders and placed him in front of the old man, who stretched out his hand to Zygfried's face, which he touched as though to feel the outlines and recognize it for the last time. Then he lowered his hand to Zygfried's chest upon which he felt his bound hands, touched the fastening ropes, again closed his eyelids and bowed his head.
They thought that he was absorbed in thought, but whether that was so or not, it was not of long duration, because after a while he started out of his reverie and pointed with his hand in the direction of the loaf of bread, in which the ill-omenedmisericordiastuck.
Then, Jagienka, the Bohemian, even old Tolima and all present held their breath. It was a hundredfold well-deserved punishment, a righteous revenge. Yet their hearts palpitated at the thought that the half-alive old man should be groping to slash the bound prisoner.
But Jurand, seizing the knife in the middle, ran his finger along its sharp edge, so that he might feel the thing he was cutting, and began to sever the bonds upon Zygfried's arms.
At that sight, all were seized with amazement, because they understood his desire and could scarcely believe it. However, that was too much for them. Hlawa was the first to murmur; he was followed by Tolima and the other men. Only the priest Kaleb began to ask, in a voice broken with unrestrained weeping:
"Brother Jurand, what are your wishes? Do you intend to give the prisoner his liberty?"
"It is so!" replied Jurand, nodding his head affirmatively.
"No punishment for him, nor vengeance? Is that your desire?"
"It is!" and he nodded again.
Open discontent was shown in the murmurs and anger of the men, but the priest did not wish to belittle such an unheard-of deed of mercy. He turned to the murmurers and exclaimed:
"Now who dares to oppose the saint? Down upon your knees!"
Then he knelt down himself and began to say:
"Our Father who art in heaven, hallowed be Thy name. Thy kingdom come…."
And he repeated the Lord's Prayer to the end. At the words: "And forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us," he directed his eyes involuntarily toward Jurand, whose face actually assumed an unearthly radiance.
That sight, and that expressive prayer crushed the hearts of all present; even old Tolima, the confirmed, hardened warrior, made the sign of the Holy Cross, and immediately embraced Jurand's feet and said:
"Lord, if you want your wishes to be accomplished, then the prisoner should be led to the frontier."
"Yes!" nodded Jurand.
The storm approached nearer and nearer and the lightning more frequently illuminated the windows.
Two horsemen, in the midst of the storm and pouring rain, reached the frontier of Spychow. They were Zygfried and Tolima. The last mentioned accompanied the German to protect him from the waylaying peasants and the servants of Spychow, who burned with hatred and revenge toward him. Zygfried was unarmed, but he was not fettered. The rainstorm, driven by the tempest, had already overtaken them. Now and then, when it suddenly thundered, the horses reared. They traveled in deep silence in a ravine. Owing to the narrowness of the road, they were at times so near that they struck each other's stirrups. Tolima, who had been accustomed to guard prisoners for many years, frequently looked at Zygfried watchfully, as though he were guarding against his escaping suddenly, and an involuntary shudder seized him every time he looked at Zygfried, because his eyes appeared to him to be shining in the darkness like the eyes of an evil spirit, or of a vampire. It struck Tolima that it would be advisable to make the sign of the cross over Zygfried, but he refrained from doing so, because, he thought, that under the sign of the cross, he would hear unearthly voices, and Zygfried would be transformed into a hideous being. His teeth chattered and his fear increased. The old soldier who could fight singly against a whole band of Germans and fall fearlessly upon them, as a hawk swoops upon a flock of partridges, was nevertheless afraid of unclean spirits, and wanted to have nothing to do with them. He would have preferred simply to point out to the German the road and return; but he was ashamed of himself, therefore he led him as far as the frontier.
It was then, when they had drawn near the border of the Spychow forest, that the rain ceased, and the clouds were lit up with a strange yellowish light, that Zygfried's eyes lost that above-mentioned unnatural glare. But Tolima was seized with another temptation: "They ordered me," he said to himself, "to lead this mad dog safely as far as the frontier. I have done that; but must the torturer of my master and his daughter leave without revenge and punishment? Would it not be a proper and God-pleasing deed to kill him? Ay! I should like to challenge him to deadly combat, but he is not armed. Very soon atPanWarcimow's farm, about a mile from here, they will supply him with some weapon, and then I will challenge him. With God's help I shall overthrow him, then kill him, and fitly, cut off his head and bury it in the dung!" These were the words which Tolima said to himself. Then looking greedily at the German he began to dilate his nostrils as if he already smelt fresh blood. He fought hard in his mind with that desire; it was hard wrestling with himself, until he reflected that Jurand had not only granted to the prisoner his life and freedom as far as the frontier, but also beyond it, otherwise Jurand's holy deed would have no merit and the heavenly reward for him would thereby be lessened. He finally prevailed over himself, and reining in his horse, said;
"Here is our border; your side is not far from here; proceed, you are free; and if the qualms of conscience do not take you off, or God's thunder does not strike you, then you need not fear man."
Then Tolima returned; and Zygfried proceeded. His face looked as if petrified and a savage expression was depicted upon it. He did not reply a single word, as though he heard nothing that was said to him. He continued his journey now upon a wider road and had the appearance of one who is fast asleep.
The break in the storm and the brightening of the sky only lasted a short time. It darkened again; so much so that it looked like the darkness of night. The clouds traveled so low that they quite enveloped the forest and from the hills came down an ill-boding obscurity, a kind of hissing and growling of impatient vampires, who were kept back by the angel of the storm. Blinding lightning illuminated the threatening sky every moment and terrified the land. Then one could see the broad highway extending between the two black walls of forest, and upon it a lonely horseman. Zygfried moved on in a semi-conscious condition, consumed by fever. Despair had lacerated his heart since Rotgier's death and filled it with crimes of revenge. Remorse, awful visions, soul stirrings had already tortured his mind in the past to such a degree that with great effort he had to fight madness; there were even moments when he could fight no longer and he surrendered. But the new troubles, fatigue upon the road under the strong hand of the Bohemian, the night he had passed in the dungeon of Spychow, the uncertainty of his fate, and above all, that unheard-of and almost superhuman deed, had quite terrified him. All this had brought him to a climax. There were moments when his mind became so stupefied that he entirely lost his judgment and he did not know what he was doing. Then the fever awoke him and, at the same time awoke within him a certain dull feeling of despair, destruction, and perdition,—a feeling that all hope was already gone, extinguished and ended. He felt that about him was only night, night and darkness, a horrible abyss into which he must plunge.
Suddenly a voice whispered in his ear:
"Go! Go!"
And he looked around him and saw the very image of death, a skeleton mounted upon a skeleton horse, pressing closely beside him, with his white rattling bones.
"Is it you?" asked Zygfried.
"Yes it is. Go! Go!"
But at that moment he glanced to the other side and observed that he had another companion there. Stirrup to stirrup rode a form, appearing somewhat like a human being but for his face and head. It had the head of an animal, with raised long pointed ears, covered with black shaggy hair.
"Who are you?" asked Zygfried.
But the being, instead of replying, showed its teeth and growled.
Zygfried closed his eyes, but in a moment he heard a louder clattering of bones and the voice speaking to him in the same ear:
"Time! Time! Hurry on, go!"
"I go!" he replied.
But that last reply came from his breast and seemed to have been uttered by somebody else. Then, impelled as it were by an external unconquerable power, he dismounted and took off his high knight's saddle, and then the bridle. His companions also dismounted, and did not leave him for a moment. They left the middle of the road and went toward the margin of the wood. There, the black being bent down a branch of a tree and assisted him in fastening to it the strap of the bridle.
"Hurry!" whispered Death.
"Hurry!" whistled some voices from the tops of the trees.
Zygfried, who was like one plunged in deep sleep, drew through the buckle the other end of the strap so as to form a noose. Then he stepped upon the saddle which he had placed in front of the tree, and adjusted the noose upon his neck.
"Push back the saddle! … Already! Ah!"
The saddle, which he pushed with his feet, rolled away several paces and the body of the unfortunate Knight of the Cross hung heavily. It seemed to him, only for a short moment, that he heard a kind of smothering, snorting and roaring, and that abominable vampire threw itself upon him, shook him and then began to tear his breast with its teeth to rend his heart. Then, as the light of his eyes was about extinguished he yet saw something else; for lo, death dissolved into a whitish cloud, which slowly approached him, embraced him, and finally surrounded and covered all with a dismal and impenetrable veil.
At that moment the storm broke with great fury. Thunder roared in the middle of the road with such a terrible crash that it seemed as though the earth was shaken to its very foundations. The whole forest bent under the tempest. The noise of whistling, hissing, howling, creaking of the trunks, and cracking of the broken branches, filled the depths of the woods. The tempest-driven sheets of rain hid the world from sight. Only at short intervals, when lit up by blood-colored lightning, could be seen the wild dangling body of Zygfried by the roadside.
* * * * *
The following morning, advancing upon the same road, a numerous train might be seen. In front was Jagienkna, with Sieciechowna and the Bohemian. Behind them moved the wagons, surrounded by four servants, armed with bows and swords. Every driver had also a spear and an axe near him, not counting forged hayforks and other cutting arms suitable upon the road. Those arms were necessary for protection against wild beasts, as well as robbers, who always swarmed upon the border of the Knights of the Cross. This caused Jagiello to complain in his letters to the Grand Master of the Order, and when they met at Racionza.
But being provided with skilful men and good arms, the retinue traveled without fear.
The stormy day was succeeded by a wonderful one; cheerful, silent and so bright that the eyes of the travelers were blinded when not in the shade. Not a single leaf stirred; from each of them hung large drops of rain which the sun changed into a rainbow. Among the pine-needles they had the appearance of large glistening diamonds. The rainfall produced small streams upon the road, which ran with glad sound toward the lower places, where they formed shallow little lakes. The whole neighborhood was wet and bedewed, but smiling in the morning brightness. On such mornings, also, the human heart is filled with gladness. Therefore the ostlers and servants began to sing; they marveled at the silence which reigned among those riding in front of them.
But they were quiet because a heavy burden oppressed Jagienka's heart. There was something which had ended in her life, something broken. Although she was not experienced in meditation and could not determine distinctly the cause and what was going on in her mind, yet she felt that all that had lived hitherto had vanished, that all her hopes had dissipated as the morning mist upon the fields is dissipated. She felt that she must now renounce and give up everything and forget, and begin almost a new life. She also thought that although, with God's will, her present position was not of the worst, yet it could not be otherwise than sad, and in no way could the new life turn out to be as good as that which had just terminated. And an immense sorrow had taken hold of her heart, so that, at the thought that every past hope was gone forever, tears came to her eyes. But not wishing to add shame to her other troubles, she restrained herself from weeping. She wished that she had never left Zgorzelice; in that case she would not now have to return thither. Then, she thought, it was not only to remove the cause for attacks upon Zgorzelice by Cztan and Wilk that Macko brought her to Spychow. That she could not believe. "No," she said, "Macko also knew that that was not the only cause for taking me away. Perhaps Zbyszko will also know it." At that thought, her cheeks became crimson and bitterness filled her heart.
"I was too daring," she said to herself, "and now I have what I deserved. Trouble and uncertainty to-morrow, suffering and deep sorrow in the future and with it humiliation."
But the train of oppressing thoughts was interrupted by a man coming hastily from the opposite direction. The Bohemian, whose eyes nothing escaped, rushed toward the man, who with crossbow upon his shoulder and badger-skin pouch at his side, and with a feather of a black woodcock in his cap, was recognized as a forester.
"Hey! Who are you? Stop!" exclaimed the Bohemian.
The man approached quickly, his face was agitated, and had the expression of those who have something extraordinary to communicate. He cried:
"There upon the road ahead of you is a man hanging on a tree!"
The Bohemian was alarmed, thinking that it might be a murder, and he asked the man quickly:
"How far from here is it?"
"A bowshot distance, and upon this road."
"Is there nobody with him?"
"Nobody; I frightened away a wolf that was smelling around him."
The mention of a wolf quieted Hlawa, for it told him that there were neither people nor farms in the neighborhood.
Then Jagienka said:
"Look there, what is that?"
Hlawa rushed ahead, and soon returned hurriedly.
"Zygfried is hanging there!" he exclaimed while reining in his horse in front of Jagienka.
"In the name of the Father, Son and Holy Ghost! You do not mean Zygfried, the Knight of the Cross?"
"Yes, it is he. He hung himself with the bridle."
"Did you say by himself?"
"It seems so, because the saddle lies alongside him, and if there were robbers they would have killed him outright and made off with the saddle, because it is valuable."
"Shall we proceed?"
"Let us not go that way! No!" cried Anula Sieciechowna, afraid."Something evil might happen to us!"
Jagienka was also somewhat afraid, because she believed that the body of a suicide is surrounded by crowds of evil spirits. But Hlawa, who was fearless and bold, said:
"Bah! I was near him, and even pushed him with the lance, and do not feel any devil upon my neck."
"Do not blaspheme!" cried Jagienka.
"I am not blaspheming," replied the Bohemian, "I only trust in God's power. Nevertheless, if you are afraid we will go around it."
Sieciechowna begged him to do so; but Jagienka, having reflected for a moment, said:
"It is not proper to leave the dead unburied. It is a Christian act commanded by the Lord. Anyhow it is the body of a man."
"Yes, but it is the body of a Knight of the Cross, a hangman and executioner! Let the crows and wolves occupy themselves with his body."
"It was not specified. God will judge for his sins, but we must do our duty; and if we fulfil God's commandment nothing evil will befall us."
"Well, then, let it be done according to your wishes," replied theBohemian.
Accordingly he gave the order to the servants, who were reluctant. But they feared Hlawa, to oppose whom was a dangerous thing. Not having the necessary spades to dig a hole in the ground, they therefore gathered pitchforks and axes for that purpose and left. The Bohemian also went with them and to give them an example, he crossed himself and cut with his own hands the leather strap upon which the body was hanging.
Zygfried's face had become blue whilst hanging; he had an awful appearance, because his eyes were open and terror-stricken, his mouth was also open as though in the act of trying to catch his last breath. They quickly dug a pit near by and pushed therein the corpse of Zygfried with the handles of their pitchforks; they laid him with his face downward and covered it first with dust, then they gathered stones and placed them upon it, because it was an immemorial custom to cover the graves of suicides with stones; otherwise they would come out during the night and frighten the passers-by.
As there were many stones upon the road and under the mosses, the grave was soon covered with a considerable mound. Then Hlawa cut a cross with his axe upon the trunk of the pine-tree near. He did that, not for Zygfried, but to prevent evil spirits from gathering at that place. Then he returned to the retinue.
"His soul is in hell and his body is already in the ground," he said toJagienka. "We can travel now."
They started; but Jagienka, whilst passing along, took a small branch of pine-tree and pressed it upon the stones. Then everybody of the train followed the example of the lady. That, too, had been an old custom.
They traveled for a long while absorbed in thought, thinking of that wicked monk and knight. Finally Jagienka said:
"God's justice cannot be escaped. It does not even permit the prayer, 'Everlasting rest'[118] to be offered up because there is no mercy for him."
"You have shown by your order to bury him that you possess a compassionate soul," replied the Bohemian.
Then he spoke hesitatingly: "People talk. Bah! maybe they are not people, but witches and wizards—that a halter or a strap taken from the hanging body secures to the possessor certain luck in everything. But I did not take the strap from Zygfried, because I wish that your luck should proceed from the Lord Jesus and not from necromancers."
Jagienka did not reply to that at once, but after awhile she sighed several times and said as it were to herself:
"Hey! My happiness is behind, not in front of me."
It was not until the end of the ninth day after Jagienka's departure that Zbyszko reached the frontier of Spychow, but Danusia was already so near death that he entirely lost all hope of bringing her alive to her father.
On the following day, when she began to be incoherent in her replies, he observed that not only her mind was out of order, but that she was also suffering from a certain malady against which that childlike frame, exhausted by so much suffering, prison, torture and continuous fright, could not fight. Perhaps the noise of the fight of Macko and Zbyszko with the Germans contributed to fill her cup of terror, and it was just about that time that she was taken ill with that malady. Suffice it to say that the fever never left her from that moment until they reached the end of the journey. So far it was successfully accomplished, because throughout the terrible wilderness, in the midst of great troubles, Zbyszko carried her as though she were dead. When they left the wilderness and reached inhabited regions, among farmers and nobles, trouble and danger ceased. When the people were informed that he carried one of their own daughters whom he had rescued from the Knights of the Cross, especially when they knew that she was the daughter of the famous Jurand, of whose exploits the minstrels sang in the villages, hamlets, and huts, they vied with each other in rendering help and service. They procured proper horses and supplies. All doors stood open for them. It was no more necessary for Zbyszko to carry her in a cradle when the strong young men carried her from one village to another in a litter. They carried her as carefully as though she were a saint. The women surrounded her with the most tender care. The men, upon hearing the account of her wrongs, gnashed their teeth, and not a few put on the steel cuirass, grasped the sword, axe, or lance and went along with Zbyszko, in order to take revenge with interest. Because, the valiant race considered even retribution, wrong for wrong, insufficient.
But revenge did not then occupy Zbyszko's mind; his only thought was for Danusia. He lived between flashes of hope when there were momentary signs of improvement, and gloomy despair when she got worse, and as far as her latter condition was concerned, he could not deceive himself. A superstitious thought struck him more than once at the beginning of the journey, that there was, somewhere in the pathless regions they were passing, death, riding along with them, step by step, lying in wait for the moment when he might fall upon Danusia and wring from her the last breath of life. That vision or feeling became especially pronounced at dark midnight, so much so, that more than once he was seized with a despairing desire to return and challenge death to a combat to a finish, in the same fashion as knights are wont to do toward each other. But at the end of the journey it became worse, because he felt that death was not following them, but was in the very midst of the retinue; invisible truly, but so near that its cold breath could be felt. Then he understood that against such an enemy, courage, strength and arms are counted as nothing and that he would be obliged to surrender the most precious head as a prey without even a struggle.
And that was a most terrible feeling, because it roused within him a tempestuous, irresistible sorrow, a sorrow, bottomless as the sea. Could therefore Zbyszko restrain himself from groaning, could his heart remain unbroken by pain, when he looked at his most beloved? He spoke to her as in terms of involuntary reproach: "Was it for this that I loved you? Was it for this that I searched and rescued you in order that you should be put under ground to-morrow and I should never see you again?" Then he would look at her cheeks which glowed with fever, at her expressionless and dull eyes, and ask her again:
"Are you going to leave me? Are you not sorry for it? You prefer going to staying with me." Then he thought that something was happening in his own head, and his breast swelled with immense sadness which seared it, but he could not give vent to his feeling with tears, because of a certain feeling of anger and hatred against that compassionless power which was consuming the innocent, blind, and cold child. If that wicked enemy, the Knight of the Cross, were present, he would have fallen upon him and torn him to pieces like a wild beast.
When they arrived at the forest court, he wished to halt, but as it was the spring season the court was deserted. There he was informed by the keepers that the princely pair had gone to their brother, Prince Ziemowita, at Plock. He therefore resolved, instead of going to Warsaw where the court physician might have given her some relief, to go to Spychow. That plan was terrible, because it seemed to him that all was over with her and that he would not be able to bring her alive to Jurand.
But just as they were only a few hours distant from Spychow the brightest ray of hope shone again in his heart. Danuska's cheeks became paler, her eyes were less troubled, her breathing not so loud and quick. Zbyszko had observed it immediately, and had given orders to stop, so that she might rest and breathe undisturbed.
It was only about three miles from the inhabited part of Spychow, upon a narrow road winding between fields and meadows. They stopped near a wild pear-tree whose branches served to the sick as a protection from the rays of the sun. The men dismounted and unbridled their horses so as to facilitate their grazing. Two women, who were hired to attend Danusia and the youths who carried her, fatigued with the road and heat, lay down in the shade and slept. Only Zbyszko remained watching near the litter and sat close by upon the roots of the pear-tree, not taking his eyes off her even for a moment.
She lay in the midst of the afternoon silence, her eyelids closed. It seemed to Zbyszko that she was not asleep,—when at the other end of the meadow a man who was mowing hay stopped and began to sharpen his scythe loudly upon the hone. Then she trembled a little and opened her eyelids for a moment, but immediately closed them again. Her breast heaved as though she was deeply inspiring, and in a hardly audible voice she whispered:
"Flowers smell sweetly…."
These were the first words, clear and free from fever, spoken since they had left, because the breeze really wafted from the sun-warmed meadow a strong, redolent hay and honey perfume, fragrant with the scent of herbs. This caused Zbyszko to think that reason had returned to her. His heart trembled within him for joy. He wished to throw himself at her feet at the first impulse. But fearing lest that might frighten her, he desisted. He only knelt in front of the litter, and bending over her, said in a whisper:
"Dear Danusia! Danusia!"
She opened her eyes again, and looked at him for a while. Then a smile brightened up her face, the same as when she was in the tar-burner's shanty, but far from consciousness, but she pronounced his name:
"Zbyszko!…"
She attempted to stretch her hands toward him, but owing to her great weakness she was unable to do it. But he embraced her, his heart was so full that it seemed as if he were thanking her for some great favor he had received.
"I praise the Lord," he said, "you have awoke … O God…." Now his voice failed him, and they looked at each other for some time in silence. That silence was only interrupted by the gentle wind which moved the leaves of the pear-tree, the chirping of the grasshoppers among the grass and the distant indistinct song of the mower.
It seemed as though her consciousness was gradually increasing, for she continued to smile and had the appearance of a sleeping child seeing angels in its dream. Little by little her face assumed an air of astonishment.
"Oh! where am I?" she cried. He was so much overcome with joy that he uttered numerous short and abrupt questions.
"Near Spychow. You are with me, and we are going to see dear papa. Your sorrow is ended. Oh! my darling Danusia, I searched for you and rescued you. You are no more in the power of the Germans. Be not afraid. We shall soon be at Spychow. You were ill, but the Lord Jesus had mercy upon you. There was so much sorrow, so many tears! Dear Danusia. Now, everything is well. There is nothing but happiness for you. Ah I how much did I search for you!… How far did I wander!… Oh! Mighty God!… Oh!…"
He sighed deeply and groaned as though he had thrown off the last heavy burden of suffering from his breast.
Danusia lay quiet trying to recall something to her mind and reflecting upon something. Then finally she asked:
"So, you cared for me?"
Two tears which were gathering in her eyes slowly rolled down her cheeks upon the pillow.
"I, not care for you?" cried Zbyszko.
There was something more powerful in that smothered exclamation than in the most vehement protestations and oaths, because he had always loved her with his whole soul. And from the moment when he had recovered her she had become more dear to him than the whole world.
Silence reigned again. The distant singing of the mowing peasant ceased and he began to whet his scythe again.
Danusia's lips moved again, but with such a low whisper that Zbyszko could not hear it. He therefore bent over her and asked:
"What do you say, darling?"
But she repeated:
"Sweet smelling blossoms."
"Because we are near the meadows," he replied. "But we shall soon proceed and go to dear papa, whom we have also rescued from captivity, and you shall be mine even unto death. Do you hear me well? Do you understand me?"
Then he suddenly became alarmed, for he observed that her face was gradually paling and was thickly covered with perspiration.
"What ails you?" he asked in great alarm.
And he felt his hair bristling and frost creeping through his bones.
"What ails you, tell me," he repeated.
"It darkens," she whispered.
"It darkens? Why, the sun shines and you say: 'it darkens'?" he said with a suppressed voice. "Up to this time you have spoken rationally. In God's name I beseech you, speak, even if it is only one word."
She still moved her lips, but she was unable even to whisper. Zbyszko guessed that she tried to pronounce his name and that she called him. Immediately afterward, her emaciated hands began to twitch and flutter upon the rug covering her. That lasted only for a moment. No doubt was left now that she had expired.
Horrified and in despair, Zbyszko began to beg her, as though his entreaties could avail:
"Danuska! Oh, merciful Jesus!… Only wait till we come to Spychow! Wait!Wait, I beseech you! Oh, Jesus! Jesus! Jesus!"
The appeal awoke the sleeping women, and the men who were stretched with the horses upon the lawn came running. They guessed at a glance what had happened; they knelt down and began loudly to recite the litany.
The breeze ceased, even the leaves upon the pear-tree did not rustle. Only the voices reciting the litany sounded throughout that profound silence.
Danusia opened her eyes once more at the very end of the litany, as though she wished to look upon Zbyszko and upon the sunlit world for the last time. Then she lapsed into an everlasting sleep.
* * * * *
The women closed her eyelids; then they went to the meadow to gather flowers. The men followed them in file. Thus they walked in the sunshine among the luxuriant grass and had the appearance of field spirits bowing now and then, and weeping, for their hearts were filled with pity and sorrow. Zbyszko was kneeling in the shade beside the litter, with his head upon Danusia's knees, speechless and motionless, as if he too were dead. But the gatherers kept on plucking here and there, marigolds, buttercups, bellflowers and plenty of red and white sweet-smelling little blossoms. They also found in the small moist hollows in the meadow, lilies of the valley, and upon the margin near the fallow ground, they got St. John's wort until they had gathered their arms full. Then they sadly surrounded the litter and began to adorn it, until they had covered the dead with flowers and herbs; they only left the face uncovered, which in the midst of the bellflowers and lilies looked white, peaceful, calm, as in eternal sleep, serene, and quite angelic.
The distance to Spychow was less than three miles. Then, when they had shed copious tears of sorrow and pain, they carried the litter toward the forest where Jurand's domains began.
The men led the horses in front of the retinue. Zbyszko himself carried the litter upon his head, and the women loaded with the surplus of the bunches of flowers and herbs, sang hymns. They moved very slowly along the herb-covered meadows and the grey fallow fields and had the appearance of a funeral procession. Not a cloudlet marred the blue clear sky, and the region warmed itself in the golden rays of the sun.
The further adventures of Zbyszko will be found in a subsequent volume.
[Footnote 1: The Benedictine Abbey at Tyniec was in Poland as important and rich, relatively, as the Abbey of Saint-Germain des Près in France. In those times the order organized by Saint Benoit (Benedictus) was the most important factor in the civilization and material prosperity of the country. The older contained 17,000 abbeys. From it came 24 Popes; 200 Cardinals; 1,600 Archbishops; 4,000 Bishops; 15,000 Writers; 1,500 Saints; 5,000 Beatified; 43 Emperors, and 44 Kings. These figures are material facts showing the importance of the order. About its influence on art, literature and culture one could write a volume.]
[Footnote 2: Two powerful families.]
[Footnote 3: Lithuania.]
[Footnote 4: Historical fact.]
[Footnote 5: Prince.]
[Footnote 6: Lithuanian.]
[Footnote 7: Money—it is difficult to tell the value exactly.]
[Footnote 8: Bishop.]
[Footnote 9: Priests.]
[Footnote 10: An exclamation of trifling.]
[Footnote 11: Prince Kiejstut's daughter.]
[Footnote 12: Slave minstrels.]
[Footnote 13: A kind of guitar.]
[Footnote 14: The names of the noblemen of every country are derived from the estates which they possess—hence the particles before the name of a true nobleman:dein France, for instance, de Nevers, means that the name comes from the place called Nevers;ofin England, for instance, Duke of Manchester;vonin Germany has the same signification; in Poland z, for instance Macko z Bogdanca—means that the estate Bogdaniec belonged to his family and to him;—in the following centuries the z was changed toski, put on the end of the name and instead of writing z Bogdanca, a man of the same family was called Bogdanski; but it does not follow that every Pole, whose name ends inskiis a nobleman. Therefore the translation of that particular z into Englishofis only strictly correct, although in other cases z should be translated into Englishfrom: to write: Baron de Rothschild is absurd and ridiculous, because the sign "red shield" was not an estate, and one cannot putdebefore it.]
[Footnote 15: A wealthy possessor of land—they were freemen and had serfs working for them—some of them were noblemen, and had the right to use coats of arms.]
[Footnote 16: Pan—Lord]
[Footnote 17: A man coming from Mazowsze—the part of Poland roundWarsaw.]
[Footnote 18: Count.]
[Footnote 19: Back side of the axe.]
[Footnote 20: A town surrounded with walls and having a peculiar jurisdiction or a kind of a castle.]
[Footnote 21: Inhabitants of Rus'—part of Poland round Lwow—Leopol(Latin), Lemberg (German).]
[Footnote 22: Money;—marks.]
[Footnote 23: Hail—the war-cry of the family, either because it was numerous like hail or struck sharply like hail.]
[Footnote 24: Count.]
[Footnote 25: Wdaly—in old Polish—handsome.]
[Footnote 26: Beautiful.]
[Footnote 27: Abbot of a hundred villages.]
[Footnote 28: Ordinary German soldiers.]
[Footnote 29: A nobleman holding an estate of the Crown, with or without jurisdiction.]
[Footnote 30: Knight of the Cross in Polish.]
[Footnote 31: Vocative from Zbyszko.]
[Footnote 32: Pater-noster—the Lord's prayer.]
[Footnote 33: Historical fact.]
[Footnote 34: A military title with jurisdiction—corresponding to general.]
[Footnote 35: Historical fact.]
[Footnote 36: Bonebreaker.]
[Footnote 37: Historical fact.]
[Footnote 38: A large building which served for different purposes, but especially, as a depot of broadcloth; in Polishsukno, hence its name:sukiennice.]
[Footnote 39: Noblemen in Lithuania and Russia.]
[Footnote 40: The Tartars were divided into Ords—it was a fancy division, without any precise number.]
[Footnote 41: Anjou in French.]
[Footnote 42: Piasts is family name—the first kings of Poland werePiasts.]
[Footnote 43: Mountains in Poland—sometimes improperly called CarpathianMountains.]
[Footnote 44: Priest—or prince in the old Slav language.]
[Footnote 45: In Poland they use in the churches a sprinkling brush made of thin shavings of a certain wood—such a brush is called, "kropidlo."]
[Footnote 46: The Province of Dobrzyn was seized by the Knights of theCross on the ground of an unlawful agreement with Wladyslaw Opolczyk.]
[Footnote 47: Allusion to beehives on the trees; to take honey from them, the keeper was obliged to climb a rope.]
[Footnote 48: Famous battle in which the Germans were defeated by KingWladyslaw Lokietek.]
[Footnote 49: Ksiondz—priest.]
[Footnote 50: We will go to dissipate.]
[Footnote 51: Marienburg in German.]
[Footnote 52: King.]
[Footnote 53: Friend.]
[Footnote 54: Diminutive ofkniaz—prince.]
[Footnote 55: Diminutive frombojar—Lord.]
[Footnote 56: Marienburg in German.]
[Footnote 57: A sort of coat.]
[Footnote 58: The bison of Pliny; the urus of Caesar. The bison, destroyed in all other countries of Europe, is only to be found in Poland in the forest of Bialowieza, where a special body of guards takes care of this rare animal.]
[Footnote 59: It means here a fort, a stronghold, a castle.]
[Footnote 60: Grzywna or mark was equal to half pound of silver.]
[Footnote 61: High sharp pointed hat.]
[Footnote 62: Crooked.]
[Footnote 63: Polishtata= papa; hence the diminutive and endearing termstatus, tatutuandtatulku= "dear papa," "dear little papa," etc.]
[Footnote 64: Another form of diminutive fromtata—father.]
[Footnote 65: Church with certain special privileges. It is a popular expression for the church calledcollegiata, in Latin.]
[Footnote 66: Silesia.]
[Footnote 67: A popular exclamation of joy—sometimes of distress if it is put with another word.]
[Footnote 68: An exclamation of mirth, especially in songs; and while dancing, they exclaim in Poland: hoc! hoc!]
[Footnote 69: Wooden beehive excavated in a tree.]
[Footnote 70: Kind of fur jacket—bolero.]
[Footnote 71: Both words are diminutives oftata—father.]
[Footnote 72: Diminutive of mother.]
[Footnote 73: In 1331.]
[Footnote 74: Stronghold—castle.]
[Footnote 75: Miss.]
[Footnote 76: Breslau in German.]
[Footnote 77: Diminutive oftatafather.]
[Footnote 78: Abbreviation of Przeclaw.]
[Footnote 79: Podhale is part of the mountains of Karpaty.]
[Footnote 80: Nickname given to bears.]
[Footnote 81: Popular name for bear.]
[Footnote 82: Wolf.]
[Footnote 83: Seminarists students.]
[Footnote 84: Diminutive ofwlodyka.]
[Footnote 85: Piece of money; it is twenty-fourth part ofgrzywnaor mark, which was worth half pound of silver; oneskojegwas worth about one-third of an ounce.]
[Footnote 86: "Bold Mountain"—a place in Poland, where one of the first three Benedictine monasteries was built by the king, Boleslaw Chrobry (the Valiant) 1125. In this monastery is a part of our Saviour's cross—hence pilgrimages to that place.]
[Footnote 87: Diminutive ofwlodyka.]
[Footnote 88: Another form ofpan—lord; when one speaks in commiseration or in sympathy, any noun can take this form.]
[Footnote 89: A short prayer for the dead.]
[Footnote 90: The famous victory over the Knights of the Cross by the king Wladyslaw Lokietek.]
[Footnote 91: Lokiec means an ell in Polish. King Wladyslaw was of the family Piasts, but he was called Lokietek on account of his short stature.]
[Footnote 92: Marks.]
[Footnote 93: Here it means a commandant.]
[Footnote 94: A part of Poland. The people were called Kurpie, on account of their shoes made of the bark of trees. They were all famous marksmen.]
[Footnote 95: Krystyn.]
[Footnote 96: A woolen material, made by Polish peasants. In some provinceskilimeksare very artistic on account of the odd designs and the harmony of the colors.]
[Footnote 97: Szczytno in Polish.]
[Footnote 98: Cymbaska who married Ernest Iron Habsburg.]
[Footnote 99: The knight Uter, being in love with the virtuous Igerna, wife of Prince Gorlas, with Merlin's help assumed the form of Gorlas, and with Igerna begot the king Arthur.]
[Footnote 100: Kind of horn.]
[Footnote 101: Wigand of Marburg mentions such cases.]
[Footnote 102: There is a custom in Poland, Hungary, Bohemia and some other countries, to break wafers at receptions and parties, on Christmas eve and the following two days, expressing in the meantime good wishes for all manner of prosperity and happiness. The wafers are distributed by the parish that is to say by the priest or sexton. The author refers to that custom.]
[Footnote 103: Siebenkirchen in German, a province which now belongs toHungary, it was then an independent principality.]
[Footnote 104: Diminutive of mother; it is a charming expression. ThePolish language, like the Italian, has a great variety of diminutives.]
[Footnote 105:Glowaczthe Polish for the BohemianHlawa, the latter means "head," but the former means also "big" or "thick head."—(S.A.B.)]
[Footnote 106: Lotarynczyk means the man from Lotaringen.]
[Footnote 107:Bywaymeans, in this instance, "here we are".]
[Footnote 108:Pontnik, "Pardoner," one who dispenses indulgences.—(S.A.B.)]
[Footnote 109: Called:Misericordia.]
[Footnote 110: February is called in Polish "Luty," meaning also dreadful, awful, etc.]
[Footnote 111: The diminutive of Anna.]
[Footnote 112: Lit., She was walking on live coals.]
[Footnote 113: Meaning never.]
[Footnote 114: Relics of the gallows were preserved down to the year 1818.]
[Footnote 115: One Polish mile is about three American miles.]
[Footnote 116:Setnik, captain over one hundred.]
[Footnote 117: The Greater Bear, or Charleswain … other names are hen and chickens, dipper, etc. Arabic,Dhiba.]
[Footnote 118:Wieczny odpoczynek racz mu daj Panie. "God rest his soul."]
End of Project Gutenberg's The Knights of the Cross, by Henryk Sienkiewicz