Complete works of henryk.., p.538
Complete Works of Henryk Sienkiewicz, page 538
“Immediately, but let me first catch breath and regain presence of mind, for I come from another world.”
“How so?”
“From that world which cannot be reached on horseback, but through prayer…. I prayed at the feet of the Lord Jesus that He may have mercy upon Jurand.”
“You have asked for a miracle. Have you that power?” asked Macko, with great curiosity.
“I have no power whatever, but I have a Saviour, who, if He wished, could restore to Jurand his eyes, tongue and hand….”
“If He only wanted to do so He could,” replied Macko. “Nevertheless you asked for an impossible thing.”
Father Kaleb did not reply; possibly because he did not hear it; his eyes were still closed, as if absent-minded, and in reality it was obvious that he was meditating on his prayer.
Then he covered his eyes with his hands and remained so for a while in silence. Finally he shook himself, rubbed his eyes with his hands, and said:
“Now, ask.”
“In what manner did Zbyszko attack the Justice of Sambinsk?”
“He is no more the Justice of Sambinsk….”
“Never mind that…. You understand what I am asking; tell me what you know about it.”
“He fought at a tourney. Ulrych liked to fight in the arena. There were many knights, guests at Malborg, and the master ordered public games. Whilst Ulrych was on horseback the strap of the saddle broke and it would have been an easy matter for Zbyszko to throw him from his horse; but he lowered his spear to the ground and even assisted him.”
“Hey! You see!” exclaimed Macko, turning toward Jagienka. “Is this why Ulrych likes him?”
“This is the reason of his love for Zbyszko. He refused to tilt against him with sharp weapons, neither with the lance, and has taken a liking to him. Zbyszko related his trouble to him, and he, being zealous of his knightly honor, fell into a great passion and led Zbyszko to his brother, the master, to lodge a complaint. May God grant him redemption for this deed, for there are not many among them who love justice. Zbyszko also told me that de Lorche, owing to his position and wealth, was of much help to him, and testified for him in everything.”
“What was the result of that testimony?”
“It resulted in the vigorous order of the grand master to the comthur of Szczytno, to send at once to Malborg all the prisoners who were confined in Szczytno, including even Jurand. Concerning Jurand, the comthur replied that he had died from his wounds and was buried there in the church-yard. He sent the other prisoners, including a milkmaid, but our Danusia was not among them.”
“I know from the armor-bearer Hlawa,” said Macko, “that Rotgier, whom Zbyszko killed whilst at the court of Prince Janusz, also spoke in the same manner about a certain milkmaid whom they captured whom they took for Jurand’s daughter, but when the princess asked: ‘How could they mistake Danusia for a common girl, since they knew and had seen the true one, Danusia?’” “You are right,” he replied, “but I thought they had forgotten the real Danusia.” “This same thing the comthur had written to the master that that girl was not a prisoner but she was under their care, that they had at first rescued her from the robbers, who had sworn that she was Jurand’s daughter, but transformed.”
“Did the master believe it?”
“He did not know whether to believe or not, but Ulrych was more incensed than ever, and influenced his brother to send an official of the Order with Zbyszko to Szczytno, which was done. When they arrived at Szczytno, they did not find the old comthur, because he had departed to the eastern strongholds against Witold, to the war; but a subordinate, whom the magistrate ordered to open all prisons and underground dungeons. They searched and searched, but found nothing. They even detained people for information. One of them told Zbyszko that he could get much information from the chaplain, because the chaplain understood the dumb executioner. But the old comthur had taken the executioner with him, and the chaplain left for Königsberg to attend a religious gathering…. They met there often in order to lodge complaints against the Knights of the Cross to the pope, because even the poor priests were oppressed by them….”
“I am only surprised that they did not find Jurand,” observed Macko.
“It is obvious that the old comthur let him go. There was more wickedness in that than if they had cut his throat. They wished that he should suffer excruciatingly more than a man of his standing could endure. — Blind, dumb and maimed. — For God’s sake!… He could neither find his home, nor the road, not even ask for a morsel of bread…. They thought that he would die somewhere behind a fence from hunger, or be drowned in some river…. What did they leave him? Nothing, but the means of discerning the different degrees of misery. And this meant torture upon torture…. He might have been sitting somewhere near the church, or along the road, and Zbyszko passed by without recognizing him. May be he even heard Zbyszko’s voice, but he could not hail him…. Hey!… I cannot keep myself from weeping!… God wrought a miracle, and that is the reason why I think that He will do a great deal more, although this prayer proceeds from my sinful lips.”
“What else did Zbyszko say? Where did he go to?” asked Macko.
“He said: ‘I know that Danuska was at Szczytno, but they have carried her off, or starved her. Old von Löve did it, and so help me God, I will not rest until I get him.’”
“Did he say so? Then it is sure that the comthur left for the east, but now there is war.”
“He knew that there was a war, and that is the cause why he left for the camp of Prince Witold. He also said, he would succeed sooner in scoring a point against the Knights of the Cross through him, than through the king.”
“So, to Prince Witold!” exclaimed Macko.
Then he turned to Jagienka.
“Did I not tell you the very same thing. As I live, I said: ‘that we should also have to go to Witold.’ …”
“Zbyszko hoped,” said Father Kaleb, “that Prince Witold would make an inroad into Prussia and take some of the castles there.”
“If time were given to him, he would not delay,” replied Macko. “Praise God now, we know at least where to look for Zbyszko.”
“We must press on at once,” said Jagienka.
“Silence!” said Macko. “It is not becoming for a boy to interrupt the council.”
Then he stared at her, as though to remind her that she was a boy; she remembered and was silent.
Macko thought for awhile, and said:
“Now we shall surely find Zbyszko, for he is not moving aimlessly; he is at the side of Prince Witold. But it is necessary to know whether he is still searching for something in this world, besides the heads of the Knights of the Cross which he vowed to get.”
“How can that be ascertained?” asked Father Kaleb.
“If we knew that the priest of Szczytno had already returned from the synod. I should like to see him,” said Macko. “I have letters from Lichtenstein to Szczytno and I can go there without fear.”
“It was not a synod gathering, but a congress,” replied Father Kaleb, “and the chaplain must have returned long ago.”
“Very well. Everything is upon my own shoulders. I shall take Hlawa with me, and two servants, with proper horses and go.”
“Then to Zbyszko?” asked Jagienka.
“Then to Zbyszko,” replied Macko. “But you must wait for me here until I return. I also think that I shall not be detained there for more than three or four days. I am accustomed to mosquitoes and fatigue. Therefore, I ask you, Father Kaleb, to give me a letter to the chaplain of Szczytno. He will believe me without hesitation if I show your letter, for there is always great confidence among the clergy.”
“The people speak well of that priest,” said Father Kaleb, “and if there is one who knows something, it is he.”
He prepared a letter in the evening, and in the morning, before sunrise, old Macko left Spychow.
CHAPTER V.
Jurand awoke from his long sleep in the presence of the priest; he forgot what had happened to him and where he was; he began to feel around in bed and at the wall. The priest caught him in his arms and wept, tenderly kissing him, and said:
“It is I! You are at Spychow! Brother Jurand!… God tried you…. But you are now among your own…. Good people brought you here. Brother, dear brother, Jurand.”
Then he repeatedly pressed him to his breast, kissed his brow and his hollow eyes; but Jurand appeared to be stupefied and unconscious. At last he moved his left hand toward his head and brow as though wishing to dispel the cloud of sleep and stupor from his mind.
“Do you hear and understand me?” asked Father Kaleb.
Jurand moved his head affirmatively. Then he stretched his hand toward the silver crucifix on the wall which he had once taken from the neck of a powerful German knight, pressed it to his lips and heart and then gave it to Father Kaleb.
“I understand you, brother!” said the priest. “He remained with you. He is able to restore to you all you lost, just as He delivered you from captivity.”
Jurand pointed with his hand heavenward, a sign that all will there be returned to him. Then his hollow eyes were filled with tears, and an indescribable pain was depicted upon his tortured face.
Father Kaleb having observed his painful emotion concluded that Danuska was dead. He therefore knelt at the bedside and said:
“O Lord! Grant her eternal rest in peace, and everlasting bliss be hers. Amen.”
Then Jurand lifted himself up and began to twist his head and move his hand as though wishing to check the priest, but the priest did not understand. At that moment old Tolima entered, and with him were the garrison of the town, the former and present elders of the peasants of Spychow, foresters, fishermen, etc., because the news of Jurand’s return had rapidly spread throughout Spychow. They embraced his feet, kissed his hand and bitterly wept when they saw the old and maimed cripple who looked like another being, not in the least the once invincible knight, the terror of the Knights of the Cross. But some of them, especially those who used to accompany him on his expeditions, were enraged; their faces grew pale and determined. After a while they crowded together and whispered, pulled, and pushed each other. Finally, a certain Sucharz, a member of the garrison and village blacksmith, approached Jurand, clasped his feet and said:
“We intended to go to Szczytno, as soon as they brought you here, but that knight, who brought you, hindered us. Permit us, sir, now. We cannot leave them unpunished. Let it be now as it was long ago. They shall not disgrace us and remain scathless. We used to fight them under your command. Now we will march under Tolima, or without him. We must conquer Szczytno and shed the dog-blood. So help us God!”
“So help us God!” repeated several voices.
“To Szczytno!”
“We must have blood!”
Forthwith a burning fire took hold of the inflammable Mazur hearts, their brows began to wrinkle, their eyes to glisten. Here and there was heard the sound of gnashing teeth. But in a moment the noise ceased, and all eyes were turned toward Jurand, whose cheeks reddened and he assumed his wonted warlike appearance. He rose and again felt for the crucifix upon the wall. The people thought that he was looking for a sword. He found it and took it down. His face paled, he turned toward the people, lifted his hollow eyes heavenward and moved the crucifix in front of him.
Silence reigned. It was beginning to get dark; the twittering of birds retiring upon the roofs and trees of the village, penetrated through the open windows. The last red rays of the setting sun penetrated into the room and fell upon the raised cross and upon Jurand’s white hair.
Sucharz, the blacksmith, looked at Jurand, glanced at his comrades and looked again at Jurand. Finally, he bid them good-bye and left the room on tiptoe. The others followed suit. When they reached the courtyard they halted, and the following whispered conversation ensued:
“What now?”
“We are not going. How then?”
“He did not permit.”
“Leave vengeance with God. It is obvious that even his soul has undergone a change.”
It was so indeed.
Those who remained were Father Kaleb and old Tolima. Jagienka with Sieciechowa, who were attracted by the armed crowd in the courtyard, came to learn what was the matter.
Jagienka, who was more daring and sure of herself than her companion, approached Jurand.
“God help you, Knight Jurand,” she said. “We are those who brought you here from Prussia.”
His face brightened at the sound of her young voice. It was obvious that it brought back to his mind in proper order all the events which had happened upon the road from Szczytno, because he showed his thankfulness by inclining his head and placing his hand upon his chest several times. Then she related to him how they first met him, how Hlawa, the Bohemian, who was Zbyszko’s armor-bearer, recognized him, and finally how they brought him to Spychow. She also told him about herself, that she and her companion bore a sword, helmet and shield for the knight Macko of Bogdaniec, the uncle of Zbyszko, who left Bogdaniec to find his nephew, and now he had left for Szczytno and would return to Spychow within three or four days.
At the mention of Szczytno, Jurand did not fall down nor was he overcome as he was when upon the road to that place, but great trouble was depicted upon his face. But Jagienka assured him that Macko was as clever as he was manly, and would not let himself be fooled by anybody. Besides that, he possessed letters from Lichtenstein, which enabled him to travel in safety everywhere.
These words quieted him considerably. It was obvious that he wished to get information about many other things. But as he was unable to do it, he suffered in his soul. This the clever girl at once observed and said;
“We shall often, talk about things. Then everything will be told.”
Then he smiled and stretched out his hand and placed it upon her head for a while; it seemed he was blessing her. He thanked her indeed very much, but as a matter of fact he was touched by the youthful voice like the warbling of a bird.
When he was not engaged in prayer, as he was almost all day, or asleep, he wished to have her near him, and when she was not there, he yearned to hear her speak, and endeavored by all means in his power to call the attention of the priest and Tolima that he wished to have that delightful boy near him.
She came often, because her tender heart sincerely pitied him. Besides that, she passed the time in waiting for Macko, whose stay at Szcytno seemed to her uncommonly long.
He was to return within three days, and now the fourth and fifth have passed by and it is already the evening of the sixth, and he has not yet returned. The alarmed girl was ready to ask Tolima to send a searching party, when suddenly the guard upon the watch-oak signalled the approach of some horsemen, and in a few moments was heard the tramp of the horses upon the drawbridge, and Hlawa accompanied by a courier appeared in the courtyard. Jagienka who had left her room, to watch in the courtyard before their arrival, rushed toward Hlawa before he dismounted.
“Where is Macko?” she asked, with beating heart and alarmed.
“He went to Prince Witold, and he ordered you to stay here.”
CHAPTER VI.
When Jagienka realized the import of Macko’s message, that she was to remain at Spychow, she was almost stunned. Grief and anger rendered her speechless for a while, and with wide opened eyes she stared at the Bohemian, which told him how unwelcome was the information he brought her. He therefore said:
“I should also like to inform you, what we heard at Szczytno. There is much and important news.”
“Is it from Zbyszko?”
“No, from Szczytno. You know….”
“Let the servant unsaddle the horses, and you come with me.”
The order was executed and they went into her room.
“Why does Macko leave us here? Why must we remain at Spychow, and why did you return here?” she asked in one breath.
“I returned,” replied Hlawa, “because the knight Macko ordered me. I wished to go to the war, but an order is an order. Knight Macko told me thus: ‘Return, take care of the lady of Zgorzelice, and wait for news from me. You may have to escort her to Zgorzelice, since she cannot go there by herself.’”
“For the love of God, tell me what happened! Did they find Jurand’s daughter? Has Macko gone there to search for Zbyszko? Did you see her? Have you spoken to her? Why have you not brought her with you? Where is she now?”
Hearing such an avalanche of questions, the Bohemian bowed to the girl’s feet and said:
“Let it not displease your grace if I do not reply to all questions at once, for it is impossible for me to do so, but, I shall if nothing hinders, endeavor to answer them one by one in the order according as they were put.”
“Well, did they find her?”
“No, but there is sure information that she was at Szczytno, and that she was probably removed to a distant castle in the east.”
“But why must we remain at Spychow?”
“Bah! If she were found?… It is true, as your grace is aware…. There would be no reason for remaining here….”
Jagienka was silent, only her cheeks reddened. But the Bohemian said;
“I thought and am still of the opinion, that we shall not be able to rescue her alive from the talons of those dog-brothers. But everything is in God’s hands. I must relate to you from the beginning. We arrived at Szczytno. Well. Knight Macko showed Lichtenstein’s letter to the bailiff, who kissed the seal in our presence, and received us as guests. He did not suspect us in the least and had full confidence in us, so that if we had had a few of our men in the neighborhood we could easily have taken possession of the castle. There was no hindrance to our interview with the priest. We conversed for two nights; we informed ourselves of strange things which the priest got from the executioner.”
“But the executioner is dumb.”
“He is, but the priest speaks to him by signs, and he understands him perfectly well. They are strange things. It must have been the finger of God. That executioner cut off Jurand’s hand, tore out his tongue, and put out his eyes. That executioner is such that where men are concerned he would not shrink from inflicting any torture, even if he were ordered to pull the teeth of the victim; but, where girls are concerned, he would not lift up his hand to kill them, or to assist in torturing them. The reason for this determination is, because he too had an only daughter whom he loved dearly, and whom the Knights of the Cross have….”
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