The Knights of the Cross, or, Krzyzacy: Historical Romance

  CHAPTER VIII.

  Three days afterward, a woman arrived with the Hercynski balm and withher came the captain of the archers from Szczytno, with a letter, signedby the brothers and sealed with Danveld's seal; in that letter theKnights of the Cross called on heaven and earth as witnesses of thewrongs committed against them in Mazowsze, and with a threat of God'svengeance, they asked for punishment for the murder of their "belovedcomrade and guest." Danveld added to the letter his personal complaint,asking humbly but also threateningly for remuneration for his crippledhand and a sentence of death against the Czech. The prince tore theletter into pieces in the presence of the captain, threw it under hisfeet and said:

  "The grand master sent those scoundrels of Krzyzaks to win me over, butthey have incited me to wrath. Tell them from me that they killed theirguest themselves and they wanted to murder the Czech. I will write to thegrand master about that and I will request him to send different envoys,if he wishes me to be neutral in case of a war between the Order and theKrakowski king."

  "Gracious lord," answered the captain, "must I carry such an answer tothe mighty and pious brothers?"

  "If it is not enough, tell them then, that I consider them dog-brothersand not honest knights."

  This was the end of the audience. The captain went away, because theprince departed the same day for Ciechanow. Only the "sister" remainedwith the balm, but the mistrustful _ksiondz_ Wyszoniek did not wish touse it, especially as the sick man had slept well the preceding night andhad awakened without any fever, although still very weak. After theprince's departure, the sister immediately sent a servant for a newmedicine apparently--for the "egg of a basilisk"--which she affirmed hadthe power to restore strength even to people in agony; as for herself,she wandered about the mansion; she was humble and was dressed in a laydress, but similar to that worn by members of the Order; she carried arosary and a small pilgrim's gourd at her belt. She could not move one ofher hands. As she could speak Polish well, she inquired from the servantsabout Zbyszko and Danusia, to whom she made a present of a rose ofJericho; on the second day during Zbyszko's slumber, while Danusia wassitting in the dining-room, she approached her and said:

  "May God-bless you, _panienko_. Last night after my prayers I dreamedthat there were two knights walking during the fall of the snow; one ofthem came first and wrapped you in a white mantle, and the other said: 'Isee only the snow, and she is not here,' and he returned."

  Danusia who was sleepy, immediately opened her blue eyes curiously, andasked:

  "What does it mean?"

  "It means that the one who loves you the best, will get you."

  "That is Zbyszko!" said the girl.

  "I do not know, because I did not see his face; I only saw the whitemantle and then I awakened; the Lord Jesus sends me pain every night inmy feet and I cannot move my hand."

  "It is strange that the balm has not helped you any!"

  "It cannot help me, _panienko_, because the pain is a punishment for asin; if you wish to know what the sin was, I will tell you."

  Danusia nodded her little head in sign that she wished to know; thereforethe "sister" continued:

  "There are also servants, women, in the Order, who, although they do notmake any vows, and are allowed to marry, are obliged to perform certainduties for the Order, according to the brothers' commands. The one whomeets such favor and honor, receives a pious kiss from a brother-knightas a sign that from that moment she is to serve the Order with words anddeeds. Ah! _panienko_!--I was going to receive that great favor, but insinful obduracy instead of receiving it with gratitude, I committed agreat sin and was punished for it."

  "What did you do?"

  "Brother Danveld came to me and gave me the kiss of the Order; but I,thinking that he was doing it from pure license, raised my wicked handagainst him----"

  Here she began to strike her breast and repeated several times:

  "God, be merciful to me, a sinner!"

  "What happened then?" asked Danusia.

  "Immediately my hand became motionless, and from that moment I have beencrippled. I was young and stupid--I did not know! But I was punished. Ifa woman fears that a brother of the Order wishes to do something wicked,she must leave the judgment to God, but she must not resist herself,because whosoever contradicts the Order or a brother of the Order, thatone will feel God's anger!"

  Danusia listened to these words with fright and uneasiness; the sisterbegan to sigh and to complain.

  "I am not old yet," said she; "I am only thirty years old, but besidesthe hand, God has taken from me my youth and beauty."

  "If it were not for the hand," said Danusia, "you need not complain."

  Then there was silence. Suddenly the sister, as if she had justremembered something, said:

  "I dreamed that some knight wrapped you with a white mantle on the snow.Perhaps it was a Krzyzak! They wear white mantles."

  "I want neither Krzyzaks nor their mantles," answered the girl.

  But further conversation was interrupted by the _ksiondz_ Wyszoniek, whoentering the room, nodded to Danusia and said:

  "Praise God and come to Zbyszko! He has awakened and has asked forsomething to eat. He is much better."

  In fact it was so. Zbyszko was a great deal better, and the _ksiondz_Wyszoniek was almost sure that he would recover, when an unexpectedaccident upset all his expectations. There came envoys from Jurand with aletter to the princess, containing dreadful news. In Spychow, half ofJurand's _grodek_ had been burned, and he himself during the rescue wasstruck by a beam. It is true that the _ksiondz_ Kaleb, who wrote theletter, said that Jurand, would recover, but that the sparks had burnedhis remaining eye so badly that there was very little sight left in it,and he was likely to become blind.

  For that reason, Jurand asked his daughter to come to Spychow as soon aspossible, because he wished to see her once more, before he was entirelyencompassed by darkness. He also said that she was to remain with him,because even the blind, begging on the roads, had some one to lead themby the hand and show them the way; why should he be deprived of thatpleasure and die among strangers? There were also humble thanks for theprincess, who had taken care of the girl like a mother, and finallyJurand promised that, although blind, he would go to Warszawa once more,in order to fall at the lady's feet and beg her for further favor forDanusia.

  The princess, when the _ksiondz_ Wyszoniek had finished reading theletter, could not say a word for some time. She had hoped that whenJurand came to see his daughter and her, she would be able by theprince's and her own influence to obtain his consent for the wedding ofthe young couple. But this letter, not only destroyed her plans, but inthe meanwhile deprived her of Danusia whom she loved as well as she didher own children. She feared that Jurand would marry the girl to someneighbor of his, so as to spend the rest of his life among his ownpeople. It was no use to think about Zbyszko--he could not go to Spychow,and then who knew how he would be received there. The lady knew thatJurand had refused to give him Danusia; and he had said to the princessherself that on account of some secret reason, he would never consent totheir marriage. Therefore in great grief she ordered the principalmessenger to be brought to her, as she desired to ask him about theSpychowski misfortune, and also to learn something about Jurand's plans.

  She was very much surprised when a stranger came instead of the oldTolima, who used to bear the shield after Jurand and usually carried hismessages; but the stranger told her that Tolima had been seriouslyinjured in the last fight with the Germans and that he was dying inSpychow; Jurand being very ill himself, asked her to send his daughterimmediately, because every day he saw less and less, and perhaps in a fewdays he would become blind. The messenger begged the princess to permithim to take the girl immediately after the horses were rested, but as itwas already dusk she refused; especially as she did not wish to distressZbyszko and Danusia by such a sudden separation.

  Zbyszko already knew all about it, and he was lying like one stricken bya heavy blow; when the princess e
ntered, and wringing her hands, saidfrom the threshold:

  "We cannot help it; he is her father!" he repeated after her like anecho: "We cannot help it----" then closed his eyes, like a man whoexpects death immediately.

  But death did not come; but in his breast there gathered a still greatergrief and through his head ran sad thoughts, like the clouds which drivenby the wind, obstruct the sun and quench all joy in the world. Zbyszkounderstood as well as the princess did, that if Danusia were once inSpychow, she would be lost to him forever. Here everybody was his friend;there Jurand might even refuse to receive him, or listen to him,especially if he were bound by a vow, or some other unknown reason asstrong as a religious vow. Then how could he go to Spychow, when he wassick and hardly able to move in bed. A few days ago, when the princerewarded him with the golden spurs, he had thought that his joy wouldconquer his illness, and he had prayed fervently to God to be permittedto soon rise and fight with the Krzyzaks; but now he had again lost allhope, because he felt that if Danusia were not at his bedside, then withher would go his desire for life and the strength to fight with death.What a pleasure and joy it had been to ask her several times a day: "Doyou love me?" and to see how she covered her smiling and bashful eyes, orbent and answered: "Yes, Zbyszko."

  But now only illness, loneliness and grief would remain, and thehappiness would depart and not return.

  Tears shone in Zbyszko's eyes and rolled slowly down on his cheeks; thenhe turned to the princess and said:

  "Gracious lady, I fear that I shall never see Danusia again."

  And the lady being sorrowful herself, answered:

  "I would not be surprised if you died from grief; but the Lord Jesus ismerciful."

  After a while, however, wishing to comfort him, she added:

  "But if Jurand die first, then the tutelage will be the prince's andmine, and we will give you the girl immediately."

  "He will not die!" answered Zbyszko.

  But at once, evidently some new thought came to his mind, because hearose, sat on the bed and said in a changed voice:

  "Gracious lady----"

  At that moment Danusia interrupted him; she came crying and said from thethreshold:

  "Zbyszku! Do you know about it already! I pity _tatus_, but I pity youalso, poor boy!"

  When she approached, Zbyszko encircled his love with his well arm, andbegan to speak:

  "How can I live without you, my dearest? I did not travel through riversand forest, I did not make the vow to serve you, that I might lose you.Hej! sorrow will not help, crying will not help, bah! even death itself,because even if the grass grow over me, my soul will not forget you, evenif I am in the presence of the Lord Jesus or of God the Father--I say,there must be a remedy! I feel a terrible pain in my bones, but you mustfall at the lady's feet, I cannot--and ask her to have mercy upon us."

  Danusia hearing this, ran quickly to the princess' feet, and havingseized them in her arms, she hid her face in the folds of the heavydress; the lady turned her compassionate but also astonished eyes toZbyszko, and said:

  "How can I show you mercy? If I do not let the child go to her sickfather, I will draw God's anger on myself."

  Zbyszko who had been sitting on the bed, slipped down on the pillows anddid not answer for a time because he was exhausted. Slowly, however, hebegan to move one hand toward the other on his breast until he joinedthem as in prayer.

  "Rest," said the princess; "then you may tell me what you wish; and you,Danusia, arise and release my knees."

  "Relax, but do not rise; beg with me," said Zbyszko.

  Then he began to speak in a feeble and broken voice:

  "Gracious lady--Jurand was against me in Krakow--he will be here also,but if the _ksiondz_ Wyszoniek married me to Danusia, then--afterward shemay go to Spychow because there is no human power that could take heraway from me----"

  These words were so unexpected to the princess, that she jumped from thebench; then she sat down again and as if she had not thoroughlyunderstood about what he was talking, she said:

  "For heaven's sake! the _ksiondz_ Wyszoniek."

  "Gracious lady! Gracious lady!" begged Zbyszko.

  "Gracious lady!" repeated Danusia, embracing the princess' knees.

  "How could it be done without her father's permission?"

  "God's law is the stronger!" answered Zbyszko.

  "For heaven's sake!"

  "Who is the father, if not the prince? Who is the mother, if not you,gracious lady?"

  And Danusia added:

  "Dearest _matuchna_!"[104]

  "It is true, that I have been and am still like a mother to her," saidthe princess, "and Jurand received his wife from my hand. It is true! Andif you are once married--everything is ended. Perhaps Jurand will beangry, but he must be obedient to the commands of the prince, his lord.Then, no one need tell him immediately, only if he wanted to give thegirl to another, or to make her a nun; and if he has made some vow, itwill not be his fault that he cannot fulfill it. Nobody can act againstGod's will--perhaps it is God's will!"

  "It cannot be otherwise!" exclaimed Zbyszko.

  But the princess, still very much excited, said:

  "Wait, I must collect my thoughts. If the prince were here, I would go tohim immediately and would ask him: 'May I give Danusia to Zbyszko ornot?' But I am afraid without him, and there is not much time to spare,because the girl must go to-morrow! Oh, sweet Jesus, let her gomarried--then there will be peace. But I cannot recover my sensesagain--and then I am afraid of something. And you Danusia, are you notafraid?--Speak!"

  "I will die without that!" interrupted Zbyszko.

  Danusia arose from the princess' knees; she was not only really onconfidential terms with the good lady, but also much spoiled by her;therefore she seized her around the neck, and began to hug her.

  But the princess said:

  "I will not promise you anything without Father Wyszoniek. Run for himimmediately!"

  Danusia went after Father Wyszoniek; Zbyszko turned his pale face towardthe princess, and said:

  "What the Lord Jesus has destined for me will happen; but for thisconsolation, may God reward you, gracious lady."

  "Do not bless me yet," answered the princess, "because we do not knowwhat will happen. You must swear to me upon you honor, that if you aremarried, you will not prevent the girl from going to her father, or elseyou will draw his curse upon her and yourself.

  "Upon my honor!" said Zbyszko.

  "Remember then! And the girl must not tell Jurand immediately. We willsend for him from Ciechanow, and make him come with Danusia, and then Iwill tell him myself, or I will ask the prince to do it. When he seesthat there is no remedy, he will consent. He did not dislike you?"

  "No," said Zbyszko, "he did not dislike me; perhaps he will be pleasedwhen Danusia is mine. If he made a vow, it will not be his fault that hecould not keep it."

  The conversation was interrupted by the entrance of Danusia and the_ksiondz_ Wyszoniek. The princess immediately asked his advice and beganto tell him with great enthusiasm about Zbyszko's plan; but as soon as heheard about it, he made the sign of the cross from astonishment and said:

  "In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Ghost! How canI do it? It is advent!"

  "For God's sake! That is true!" exclaimed the princess.

  Then there was silence; only their sorrowful faces showed what a blowthose words of the _ksiondz_ Wyszoniek were to all of them.

  Then he said after a while:

  "If you had a dispensation, then I would not oppose it, because I pityyou. I would not ask for Jurand's permission, because our gracious ladyconsents and, vouches for the prince's consent--well! they are the motherand the father for the whole of Mazowsze. But without a bishop'sdispensation, I cannot. Bah! if the _ksiondz_ bishop of Kurdwanow werewith us, he would not refuse a dispensation, although he is a severepriest, not like his predecessor, Bishop Mamphiolus, who used always toanswer: _Bene! Bene!_"

  "Bishop Jacob of Kurdwanow
loves the prince and myself very much," saidthe lady.

  "Therefore I say he would not refuse a dispensation, more so becausethere are some reasons for one: the girl must go to her father and thatyoung man is ill and may die--Hm! _in articulo mortis!_ But without adispensation I cannot."

  "I could obtain it afterward from Bishop Jacob; no matter how severe hemay be, he will not refuse me this favor. I guarantee, he will notrefuse," said the princess.

  To this the _ksiondz_ Wjszoniek who was a good and easy man, replied:

  "A word of the Lord's anointed is a great word. I am afraid of the_ksiondz_ bishop, but that great word! Then the youth could promisesomething to the cathedral in Plock. Well, as long as the dispensationwill not come, there will be a sin--and nobody's but mine. Hm! It istrue that the Lord Jesus is merciful and if any one sin not for his ownbenefit, but on account of mercy for human misery, he forgives moreeasily! But there will be a sin, and suppose the bishop should refuse,who will grant me pardon?"

  "The bishop will not refuse!" exclaimed Princess Anna.

  And Zbyszko said:

  "That man Sanderus, who came with me, has pardons ready for everything."

  The _ksiondz_ Wyszoniek probably did not believe entirely in Sanderus'pardons; but he was glad to have even a pretext so that he could helpDanusia and Zbyszko, because he loved the girl, whom he had known fromchildhood. Then he remembered that at the worst, he would be punishedwith church penitence, therefore turning toward the princess he said:

  "It is true, I am a priest, but I am also the prince's servant. What doyou command, gracious lady?"

  "I do not wish to command but to beg," answered the lady. "If thatSanderus has pardons----"

  "Sanderus has. But there is the question about the bishop. He is verysevere with the canons in Plock."

  "Do not be afraid of the bishop. I have heard that he has forbidden thepriest to carry swords and crossbows and has forbidden differentlicenses, but he has not forbidden them to do good."

  The _ksiondz_ Wyszoniek raised his eyes and his hands, and said:

  "Let it be according to your wish!"

  At this word, joy filled their hearts. Zbyszko again sat on the bed andthe princess, Danusia and Father Wyszoniek sat round it and began to planhow they should act.

  They decided to keep it secret so that not a soul in the house shouldknow anything about it; they also decided that Jurand must not know untilthe princess herself told him in Ciechanow about everything.

  In the meanwhile, the _ksiondz_ Wyszoniek was to write a letter from theprincess to Jurand and ask him to come to Ciechanow, where he could findbetter medicine and where he will not weary. Finally, they decided, thatZbyszko and Danusia will go to confession, that the wedding ceremony willbe performed during the night, when everybody will retire.

  The thought came to Zbyszko to have his shield-bearer, the Czech, as awitness of the wedding; but he gave up the idea when he remembered thathe had received him from Jagienka. For a moment she stood in his memoryas though present, so that it seemed to him that he saw her blushing faceand her eyes full of tears, and heard her pleading voice say: "Do not dothat! Do not repay me with evil for good, nor with misery for love!" Thenat once great compassion for her seized him, because he felt that a greatwrong would be done her, after which she would find no consolation underthe roof of Zgorzelice, nor in the depths of the forest, nor in thefields, nor in the abbot's gifts, nor in Cztan and Wilk's courtship.Therefore he said inwardly: "Girl, may God give you the best ofeverything, for although I am willing to bend the sky for you, I cannot."In fact, the thought that he could not help it, immediately brought himrelief, and tranquillity returned, so that immediately he began to thinkonly about Danusia and the wedding.

  But he was obliged to call the Czech to help him; therefore although hedetermined not to say a word to him about what was going to happen, hesummoned him and said:

  "To-day I am going to confession as well as to the Lord's table;therefore you must dress me in my best clothing as if I were going to theking's palace."

  The Czech was a little afraid and began to look into his face; Zbyszkohaving noticed this, said:

  "Do not be alarmed, people do not go to confession only when they expectto die; the holy days are coming, Father Wyszoniek and the princess aregoing to Ciechanow, and then there will be no priest nearer than inPrzasnysz."

  "And are you not going?" asked the shield-bearer.

  "If I recover my health, then I will go; but that is in God's hands."

  Therefore the Czech was quieted; he hurried to the chests, and broughtthat white _jaka_ embroidered with gold, in which the knight used todress for great occasions, and also a beautiful rug to cover the bed;then having lifted Zbyszko, with the help of the two Turks, he washedhim, and combed his long hair on which he put a scarlet zone; finally heplaced him on red cushions, and satisfied with his own work, said:

  "If Your Grace were able to dance, you could celebrate even a wedding!"

  "It will be necessary to celebrate it without dancing," answered Zbyszko,smiling.

  In the meanwhile the princess was also thinking how to dress Danusia,because for her womanly nature it was a question of great importance, andunder no consideration would she consent to have her beloved foster childmarried in her everyday dress. The servants who were also told that thegirl must dress in the color of innocence for confession, very easilyfound a white dress, but there was great trouble about the wreath for thehead. While thinking of it, the lady became so sad that she began tocomplain:

  "My poor orphan, where shall I find a wreath of rue for you in thiswilderness? There is none here, neither a flower, nor a leaf; only somegreen moss under the snow."

  And Danusia, standing with loosened hair, also became sorrowful, becauseshe wanted a wreath; after awhile, however, she pointed to the garlandsof immortelles, hanging on the walls of the room, and said:

  "We must weave a wreath of those flowers, because we will not findanything else, and Zbyszko will take me even with such a wreath."

  The princess would not consent at first, being afraid of a bad omen; butas in this mansion, to which they came only for hunting, there were noflowers, finally the immortelles were taken. In the meanwhile, FatherWyszoniek came, and received Zbyszko's confession; afterwards he listenedto the girl's confession and then the gloomy night fell. The servantsretired after supper, according to the princess' order. Some of Jurand'smen lay down in the servants' room, and others slept in the stables withthe horses. Soon the fires in the servants' room became covered withashes and were quenched; finally everything became absolutely quiet inthe forest house, only from time to time the dogs were heard howling atthe wolves in the direction of the wilderness.

  But in the princess', Father Wyszoniek's and Zbyszko's rooms, the windowswere shining, throwing red lights on the snow which covered thecourt-yard. They were waiting in silence, listening to the throbbing oftheir own hearts--uneasy and affected by the solemnity of the momentwhich was coming. In fact, after midnight, the princess took Danusia bythe hand and conducted her to Zbyszko's room, where Father Wyszoniek waswaiting for them. In the room there was a great blaze in the fireplace,and by its abundant but unsteady light, Zbyszko perceived Danusia; shelooked a little pale on account of sleepless nights; she was dressed in along, stiff, white dress, with a wreath of immortelles on her brow. Onaccount of emotion, she closed her eyes; her little hands were hangingagainst the dress, and thus she appeared like some painting on a churchwindow; there was something spiritual about her; Zbyszko was surprisedwhen he saw her, and thought that he was going to marry not an earthly,but a heavenly being. He still thought this when she kneeled with crossedhands to receive the communion, and having bent her head, closed her eyesentirely. In that moment she even seemed to him as if dead, and fearseized his heart. But it did not last long because, having heard thepriest's voice repeat: "_Ecce Agnus Dei_," his thoughts went toward God.In the room there were heard only the solemn voice of Father Wyszoniek:"_Domine, non sum dignus_," and w
ith it the crackling of the logs in thefireplace and the sound of crickets playing obstinately, but sadly, inthe chinks of the chimney. Outdoors the wind arose and rustled in thesnowy forest, but soon stopped.

  Zbyszko and Danusia remained sometime in silence; the _ksiondz_ Wyszoniektook the chalice and carried it to the chapel of the mansion. After awhile he returned accompanied by Sir de Lorche, and seeing astonishmenton the faces of those present, he placed his finger on his mouth, as ifto stop the cry of surprise, then he said:

  "I understand; it will be better to have two witnesses of the marriage; Iwarned this knight who swore to me on his honor and on the relics ofAguisgranum to keep the secret as long as necessary."

  Then Sir de Lorche first kneeled before the princess, then beforeDanusia; then he arose and stood silently, clad in his armor, on whichthe red light of the fire was playing. He stood motionless, as if plungedin ecstasy, because for him also, that white girl with a wreath ofimmortelles on her brow seemed like the picture of an angel, seen on thewindow of a Gothic cathedral.

  The priest put her near Zbyszko's bed and having put the stole roundtheir hands, began the customary rite. On the princess' honest face thetears were dropping one after another; but she was not uneasy within,because she believed she was doing well, uniting these two lovely andinnocent children. Sir de Lorche kneeled again, and leaning with bothhands on the hilt of his sword, looked like a knight who beholds avision. The young people repeated the priest's words: "I ... take you..." and those sweet quiet words were accompanied again by the singing ofthe crickets in the chimney and the crackling in the fireplace. When theceremony was finished, Danusia fell at the feet of the princess whoblessed them both, and finally intrusted them to the tutelage of heavenlymight; she said to Zbyszko:

  "Now be merry, because she is yours, and you are hers."

  Then Zbyszko extended his well arm to Danusia, and she put her littlearms round his neck; for a while one could hear them repeat to eachother:

  "Danuska, you are mine!"

  "Zbyszku, you are mine!"

  But soon Zbyszko became weak, because there were too many emotions forhis strength, and having slipped on the pillow, he began to breatheheavily. But he did not faint, nor did he cease to smile at Danusia, whowas wiping his face which was covered with a cold perspiration, and hedid not stop repeating:

  "Danuska, you are mine!" to which every time she nodded her fair head inassent.

  This sight greatly moved Sir de Lorche, who declared that in no othercountry had he seen such loving and tender hearts; therefore he solemnlyswore that he was ready to fight on foot or on horseback with any knight,magician or dragon, who would try to prevent their happiness. Theprincess and Father Wyszoniek were witnesses of his oath.

  But the lady, being unable to conceive of a marriage without somemerriment, brought some wine which they drank. The hours of night werepassing on. Zbyszko having overcome his weakness, drew Danusia to him andsaid:

  "Since the Lord Jesus has given you to me, nobody can take you from me;but I am sorry that you must leave me, my sweetest berry."

  "We will come with _tatulo_ to Ciechanow," answered Danusia.

  "If only you do not become sick--or--God may preserve you from some badaccident.--You must go to Spychow--I know! Hej! I must be thankful to Godand to our gracious lady, that you are already mine--because we aremarried and no human force can break our marriage."

  But as this marriage was performed secretly during the night andseparation was necessary immediately afterward, therefore from time totime, not only Zbyszko, but everybody was filled with sadness. Theconversation was broken. From time to time, also the fire was quenchedand plunged all heads in obscurity. Then the _ksiondz_ Wyszoniek threwfresh logs on the charcoal and when something whined in the wood, ashappens very often when the wood is fresh, he said:

  "Penitent soul, what do you wish?"

  The crickets answered him and the increasing flames which brought outfrom the shadow the sleepless faces, were reflected in Sir de Lorche'sarmor, lighting in the meanwhile Danusia's white dress and theimmortelles on her head.

  The dogs outside again began to howl in the direction of the forest, asthey usually do, when they scent wolves.

  As the hours of the night flew on, oftener there was silence; finally theprincess said:

  "Sweet Jesus! We had better go to bed if we are going to sit like thisafter a wedding, but as it was determined to watch until morning, thenplay for us, my little flower, for the last time before your departure,on the little lute--for me and for Zbyszko."

  "What shall I play?" asked she.

  "What?" said the princess. "What else if not the same song which you sangin Tyniec, when Zbyszko saw you for the first time."

  "Hej! I remember--and shall never forget it," said Zbyszko. "When I heardthat song somewhere else--I cried."

  "Then I will sing it!" said Danusia.

  And immediately she began to thrum on the lute; then, having raised herlittle head, she sang:

  "If I only could get The wings like a birdie, I would fly quickly To my dearest Jasiek! I would then be seated On the high enclosure; Look, my dear Jasiulku, Look on me, poor orphan."

  But at once her voice broke, her mouth began to tremble and from beneaththe closed eyelids the tears began to flow down her cheeks. For a momentshe tried not to let them pass the eyelashes, but she could not keep themback and finally she began to cry, exactly as she did the last time shesang that song to Zbyszko in the prison in Krakow.

  "Danuska! what is the matter, Danuska?" asked Zbyszko.

  "Why are you crying? Such a wedding!" exclaimed the princess. "Why?"

  "I do not know," answered Danusia, sobbing. "I am so sad! I regretZbyszko and you so much."

  Then all became very sorrowful; they began to console her, and to explainto her that she was not going to remain in Spychow a long time, but thatthey would surely be with Jurand in Ciechanow for the holy days. Zbyszkoagain encircled her with his arm, drew her to his breast and kissed thetears from her eyes; but the oppression remained in all hearts, and thusthe hours of night passed.

  Finally from the court-yard there resounded such a sudden and dreadfulnoise, that all shivered. The princess, having rushed from the bench,exclaimed:

  "For God's sake. The sweeps of the wells! They are watering the horses!"

  And the _ksiondz_ Wyszoniek looked through the window, in which the glassballs were growing gray and said:

  "The night grows white and the day is coming. _Ave Maria, gratiaplena_----"

  Then he left the room but having returned after a while, he said:

  "The day breaks, but the day will be dark. Jurand's people are wateringtheir horses. Poor girl, you must be ready!"

  The princess and Danusia began to cry very loudly and both, together withZbyszko, began to lament, as simple people do when they have to separate;it was half lamenting and half singing, which flowed from full souls, ina natural way, as the tears flow from the eyes.

  "Hej! there is no use of lamenting, We must separate, my darling, Farewell--hej!"

  Zbyszko nestled Danusia for the last time on his breast and kept her fora long time, as long as he could breathe and until the princess drew herfrom him, in order to dress her for the journey.

  In the meanwhile it was broad daylight.

  In the mansion everybody was up and moving round. The Czech came toZbyszko to ask about his health and to ascertain what were his orders.

  "Draw the bed to the window," said the knight to him.

  The Czech drew the bed to the window, very easily; but he was surprisedwhen Zbyszko told him to open it. He obeyed, however, only he covered hismaster with his own fur coat, because it was cold outside, althoughcloudy, and snow was falling.

  Zbyszko began to look; in the court-yard, through the flakes of thefalling snow, one could see lights, and round them, on steaming horses,Jurand's people were standing. All were armed. The forest was entirelycovered with the snow; one could hardly see the encl
osures and the gate.

  Danusia, all wrapped up in furs, rushed once more into Zbyszko's room;once more she put her arms around his neck and bade him farewell:

  "Although I am going, still I am yours."

  He kissed her hands, her cheeks and her eyes, and said:

  "May God protect you! May God lead you! You are mine, mine until death!"

  When they again separated them, he raised himself a