CHAPTER VII
In the meanwhile, the Czech rushed as fast as he could to the prince's hunting residence, and finding the prince still there, he told him first, what had happened. Happily there were some courtiers who had seen the shield-bearer go without any arms. One of them had even shouted after him, half in jest, to take some old iron, because otherwise the Germans would get the best of him; but he, fearing that the knights would pass the frontier, jumped on horseback as he stood, in a sheepskin overcoat only and hurried after them. These testimonies dispelled all possible doubts from the prince's mind as to the fact who had murdered de Fourcy; but they filled him with uneasiness and with such anger, that at first he wanted to pursue the Knights of the Cross, capture them and send them to the grand master in chains. After a while, however, he came to the conclusion, that it was impossible to reach them on this side of the boundary and he said:
"I will send, instead, a letter to the grand master, so that he may know what they are doing here. God will punish them for it!"
Then he became thoughtful and after a while he began to say to the courtiers:
"I cannot understand why they killed their guest; I would suspect the shield-bearer if I did not know that he went there without weapons."
"Bah!" said the ksiondz Wyszoniek, "why should the boy kill him? He had not seen him before. Then suppose he had had arms, how could he attack five of them and their armed retinues?"
"That is true," said the prince. "That guest must have opposed them in something, or perhaps he did not wish to lie as was necessary for them. I saw them wink at him, to induce him to say that Jurand was the first to begin the fight."
Then Mrokota of Mocarzew said:
"He is a strong boy, if he could crush the arm of that dog Danveld."
"He said that he heard the bones of the German crack," answered the prince; "and taking into consideration what he did in the forest, one must admit it is true! The master and the servant are both strong boys. But for Zbyszko, the bison would have rushed against the horses. Both the Lotaringer and he contributed very much to the rescue of the princess."
"To be sure they are great boys," affirmed the ksiondz Wyszoniek. "Even now when he can hardly breathe, he has taken Jurand's part and challenged those knights. Jurand needs exactly such a son-in-law."
"In Krakow, Jurand said differently; but now, I think he will not oppose it," said the prince.
"The Lord Jesus will help," said the princess, who entered just now and heard the end of the conversation.
"Jurand cannot oppose it now, if only God will restore Zbyszko's health; but we must reward him also."
"The best reward for him will be Danusia, and I think he will get her, for when the women resolve to accomplish some object, then even Jurand himself could not prevent them."
"Am I not right, to wish for that marriage?" asked the princess.
"I would not say a word if Zbyszko were not constant; but I think there is no other in the world as faithful as he. And the girl also. She does not leave him now for a moment; she caresses him and he smiles at her, although he is very ill. I cry myself when I see this! I am speaking righteously! It is worth while to help such a love, because the Holy Mother looks gladly on human happiness."
"If it be God's will," said the prince, "the happiness will come. But it is true that he nearly lost his head for that girl and now the bison has injured him."
"Do not say it was for that girl," said the princess, quickly, "because in Krakow Danusia saved him."
"True! But for her sake he attacked Lichtenstein, in order to tear from his head the feathers, and he would not have risked his life for de Lorche. As for the reward, I said before that they both deserve one, and I will think about it in Ciechanow."
"Nothing will please Zbyszko more than to receive the knightly girdle and the golden spurs."
The prince smiled benevolently and answered:
"Let the girl carry them to him; and when the illness leaves him, then we will see that everything is accomplished according to the custom. Let her carry them to him immediately, because quick joy is the best!"
The princess having heard that, hugged her lord in the presence of the courtiers, and kissed his hands; he smiled continually and said:
"You see – A good idea! I see that the Holy Ghost has granted the woman some sense also! Now call the girl."
"Danuska! Danuska!" called the princess.
And in a moment in the side door Danusia appeared; her eyes were red on account of sleepless nights; and she held a pot of steaming gruel, which the ksiondz Wyszoniek had ordered to be put on Zbyszko's fractured bones.
"Come to me, my dear girl!" said Prince Janusz. "Put aside the pot and come."
When she approached with some timidity, because "the lord" always excited some fear in her, he embraced her kindly and began to caress her face, saying:
"Well, the poor child is unhappy —hein?"
"Yes!" answered Danusia.
And having sadness in her heart, she began to cry but very quietly, in order not to hurt the prince; he asked again:
"Why do you cry?"
"Because Zbyszko is ill," answered she, putting her little hands to her eyes.
"Do not be afraid, there is no danger for him. Is that not true, Father Wyszoniek?"
"Hej! by God's will, he is nearer to the wedding than to the coffin," answered the good-hearted ksiondz Wyszoniek.
The prince said:
"Wait! In the meanwhile, I will give you a medicine for him, and I trust it will relieve him or cure him entirely."
"Have the Krzyzaks sent the balm?" asked Danusia quickly, taking her little hands from her eyes.
"With that balm which the Krzyzaks will send, you had better smear a dog than a knight whom you love. I will give you something else."
Then he turned to the courtiers and said:
"Hurry and bring the spurs and the girdle."
After a while, when they had brought them to him, he said to Danusia:
"Take these to Zbyszko – and tell him that from this time he is a belted knight. If he die, then he will appear before God as miles cinctus; if he live, then the rest will be accomplished in Ciechanow or in Warszawa."
Having heard this, Danusia seized "the lord" by his knees; then caught the knightly insignia with one hand and the pot of porridge with the other, and rushed to the room where Zbyszko was lying. The princess, not wishing to lose the sight of their joy, followed her.
Zbyszko was very ill, but having perceived Danusia, he turned his pale face toward her and asked:
"Has the Czech returned?"
"No matter about the Czech!" answered the girl. "I bring you better news than that. The lord has made you a knight and has sent you this by me."
Having said this, she put beside him the girdle and the spurs. Zbyszko's pale cheeks flushed with joy and astonishment, he glanced at Danusia and then at the spurs; then he closed his eyes and began to repeat:
"How could he dub me a knight?"
At that moment the princess entered, and he raised himself a little and began to thank her, because he guessed that her intervention had brought such a great favor and bliss to him. But she ordered him to be quiet and helped Danusia to put his head on the pillows again. In the meanwhile, the prince, the ksiondz Wyszoniek, Mrokota and several other courtiers entered.
Prince Janusz waved his hand to signify that Zbyszko must not move; then having seated himself beside the bed, he said:
"You know! The people must not wonder that there is reward for good deeds, because if virtue remained without any reward, human iniquities would walk without punishment. You did not spare your life, but with peril to yourself defended us from dreadful mourning; therefore we permit you to don the knightly girdle, and from this moment to walk in glory and fame."
"Gracious lord," answered Zbyszko. "I would not spare even ten lives – "
But he could not say anything more, on account of his emotion; and the princess put her hand on his mouth because the ksiondz Wyszoniek did not permit him to talk. The prince continued further:
"I think that you know the knightly duties and that you will wear the insignia with honor. You must serve our Saviour, and fight with the starosta of hell. You must be faithful to the anointed lord, avoid unrighteous war and defend innocence against oppression; may God and His Holy Passion help you!"
"Amen!" answered the ksiondz Wyszoniek.
The prince arose, made the sign of the cross over Zbyszko and added:
"And when you recover, go immediately to Ciechanow, where I will summon Jurand."
CHAPTER VIII
Three days afterward, a woman arrived with the Hercynski balm and with her came the captain of the archers from Szczytno, with a letter, signed by the brothers and sealed with Danveld's seal; in that letter the Knights of the Cross called on heaven and earth as witnesses of the wrongs committed against them in Mazowsze, and with a threat of God's vengeance, they asked for punishment for the murder of their "beloved comrade and guest." Danveld added to the letter his personal complaint, asking humbly but also threateningly for remuneration for his crippled hand and a sentence of death against the Czech. The prince tore the letter into pieces in the presence of the captain, threw it under his feet and said:
"The grand master sent those scoundrels of Krzyzaks to win me over, but they have incited me to wrath. Tell them from me that they killed their guest themselves and they wanted to murder the Czech. I will write to the grand 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 the Krakowski king."
"Gracious lord," answered the captain, "must I carry such an answer to the mighty and pious brothers?"
"If it is not enough, tell them then, that I consider them dog-brothers and not honest knights."
This was the end of the audience. The captain went away, because the prince departed the same day for Ciechanow. Only the "sister" remained with the balm, but the mistrustful ksiondz Wyszoniek did not wish to use it, especially as the sick man had slept well the preceding night and had awakened without any fever, although still very weak. After the prince's departure, the sister immediately sent a servant for a new medicine apparently – for the "egg of a basilisk" – which she affirmed had the 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 lay dress, but similar to that worn by members of the Order; she carried a rosary and a small pilgrim's gourd at her belt. She could not move one of her hands. As she could speak Polish well, she inquired from the servants about Zbyszko and Danusia, to whom she made a present of a rose of Jericho; on the second day during Zbyszko's slumber, while Danusia was sitting in the dining-room, she approached her and said:
"May God-bless you, panienko. Last night after my prayers I dreamed that there were two knights walking during the fall of the snow; one of them came first and wrapped you in a white mantle, and the other said: 'I see only the snow, and she is not here,' and he returned."
Danusia who was sleepy, immediately opened her blue eyes curiously, and asked:
"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 white mantle and then I awakened; the Lord Jesus sends me pain every night in my 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 a sin; 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; therefore the "sister" continued:
"There are also servants, women, in the Order, who, although they do not make any vows, and are allowed to marry, are obliged to perform certain duties for the Order, according to the brothers' commands. The one who meets such favor and honor, receives a pious kiss from a brother-knight as a sign that from that moment she is to serve the Order with words and deeds. Ah! panienko! – I was going to receive that great favor, but in sinful obduracy instead of receiving it with gratitude, I committed a great 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 hand against 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 been crippled. I was young and stupid – I did not know! But I was punished. If a 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, that one will feel God's anger!"
Danusia listened to these words with fright and uneasiness; the sister began to sigh and to complain.
"I am not old yet," said she; "I am only thirty years old, but besides the 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 just remembered 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, who entering the room, nodded to Danusia and said:
"Praise God and come to Zbyszko! He has awakened and has asked for something 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 unexpected accident upset all his expectations. There came envoys from Jurand with a letter to the princess, containing dreadful news. In Spychow, half of Jurand's grodek had been burned, and he himself during the rescue was struck by a beam. It is true that the ksiondz Kaleb, who wrote the letter, said that Jurand, would recover, but that the sparks had burned his 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 as possible, because he wished to see her once more, before he was entirely encompassed 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 them by the hand and show them the way; why should he be deprived of that pleasure and die among strangers? There were also humble thanks for the princess, who had taken care of the girl like a mother, and finally Jurand 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 for Danusia.
The princess, when the ksiondz Wyszoniek had finished reading the letter, could not say a word for some time. She had hoped that when Jurand came to see his daughter and her, she would be able by the prince's and her own influence to obtain his consent for the wedding of the young couple. But this letter, not only destroyed her plans, but in the meanwhile deprived her of Danusia whom she loved as well as she did her own children. She feared that Jurand would marry the girl to some neighbor of his, so as to spend the rest of his life among his own people. 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 that Jurand had refused to give him Danusia; and he had said to the princess herself that on account of some secret reason, he would never consent to their marriage. Therefore in great grief she ordered the principal messenger to be brought to her, as she desired to ask him about the Spychowski misfortune, and also to learn something about Jurand's plans.
She was very much surprised when a stranger came instead of the old Tolima, who used to bear the shield after Jurand and usually carried his messages; but the stranger told her that Tolima had been seriously injured in the last fight with the Germans and that he was dying in Spychow; Jurand being very ill himself, asked her to send his daughter immediately, because every day he saw less and less, and perhaps in a few days he would become blind. The messenger begged the princess to permit him to take the girl immediately after the horses were rested, but as it was already dusk she refused; especially as she did not wish to distress Zbyszko and Danusia by such a sudden separation.
Zbyszko already knew all about it, and he was lying like one stricken by a heavy blow; when the princess entered, and wringing her hands, said from the threshold:
"We cannot help it; he is her father!" he repeated after her like an echo: "We cannot help it – " then closed his eyes, like a man who expects death immediately.
But death did not come; but in his breast there gathered a still greater grief and through his head ran sad thoughts, like the clouds which driven by the wind, obstruct the sun and quench all joy in the world. Zbyszko understood as well as the princess did, that if Danusia were once in Spychow, 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 as strong as a religious vow. Then how could he go to Spychow, when he was sick and hardly able to move in bed. A few days ago, when the prince rewarded him with the golden spurs, he had thought that his joy would conquer his illness, and he had prayed fervently to God to be permitted to soon rise and fight with the Krzyzaks; but now he had again lost all hope, because he felt that if Danusia were not at his bedside, then with her 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: "Do you love me?" and to see how she covered her smiling and bashful eyes, or bent and answered: "Yes, Zbyszko."
But now only illness, loneliness and grief would remain, and the happiness would depart and not return.
Tears shone in Zbyszko's eyes and rolled slowly down on his cheeks; then he 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 is merciful."
After a while, however, wishing to comfort him, she added:
"But if Jurand die first, then the tutelage will be the prince's and mine, 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 he arose, sat on the bed and said in a changed voice:
"Gracious lady – "
At that moment Danusia interrupted him; she came crying and said from the threshold:
"Zbyszku! Do you know about it already! I pity tatus, but I pity you also, poor boy!"
When she approached, Zbyszko encircled his love with his well arm, and began to speak:
"How can I live without you, my dearest? I did not travel through rivers and 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, even if 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 must fall 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 having seized them in her arms, she hid her face in the folds of the heavy dress; the lady turned her compassionate but also astonished eyes to Zbyszko, and said:
"How can I show you mercy? If I do not let the child go to her sick father, I will draw God's anger on myself."
Zbyszko who had been sitting on the bed, slipped down on the pillows and did not answer for a time because he was exhausted. Slowly, however, he began to move one hand toward the other on his breast until he joined them 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 she may go to Spychow because there is no human power that could take her away from me – "
These words were so unexpected to the princess, that she jumped from the bench; then she sat down again and as if she had not thoroughly understood 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," said the princess, "and Jurand received his wife from my hand. It is true! And if you are once married – everything is ended. Perhaps Jurand will be angry, 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 the girl to another, or to make her a nun; and if he has made some vow, it will not be his fault that he cannot fulfill it. Nobody can act against God'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 to him immediately and would ask him: 'May I give Danusia to Zbyszko or not?' 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 go married – then there will be peace. But I cannot recover my senses again – and then I am afraid of something. And you Danusia, are you not afraid? – Speak!"
"I will die without that!" interrupted Zbyszko.
Danusia arose from the princess' knees; she was not only really on confidential 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 him immediately!"
Danusia went after Father Wyszoniek; Zbyszko turned his pale face toward the princess, and said:
"What the Lord Jesus has destined for me will happen; but for this consolation, may God reward you, gracious lady."
"Do not bless me yet," answered the princess, "because we do not know what will happen. You must swear to me upon you honor, that if you are married, you will not prevent the girl from going to her father, or else you will draw his curse upon her and yourself.
"Upon my honor!" said Zbyszko.
"Remember then! And the girl must not tell Jurand immediately. We will send for him from Ciechanow, and make him come with Danusia, and then I will tell him myself, or I will ask the prince to do it. When he sees that there is no remedy, he will consent. He did not dislike you?"
"No," said Zbyszko, "he did not dislike me; perhaps he will be pleased when Danusia is mine. If he made a vow, it will not be his fault that he could not keep it."
The conversation was interrupted by the entrance of Danusia and the ksiondz Wyszoniek. The princess immediately asked his advice and began to tell him with great enthusiasm about Zbyszko's plan; but as soon as he heard 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 can I 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 blow those 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 pity you. I would not ask for Jurand's permission, because our gracious lady consents and, vouches for the prince's consent – well! they are the mother and the father for the whole of Mazowsze. But without a bishop's dispensation, I cannot. Bah! if the ksiondz bishop of Kurdwanow were with us, he would not refuse a dispensation, although he is a severe priest, not like his predecessor, Bishop Mamphiolus, who used always to answer: Bene! Bene!"
"Bishop Jacob of Kurdwanow loves the prince and myself very much," said the lady.
"Therefore I say he would not refuse a dispensation, more so because there are some reasons for one: the girl must go to her father and that young man is ill and may die – Hm! in articulo mortis! But without a dispensation I cannot."
"I could obtain it afterward from Bishop Jacob; no matter how severe he may be, he will not refuse me this favor. I guarantee, he will not refuse," 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 promise something to the cathedral in Plock. Well, as long as the dispensation will not come, there will be a sin – and nobody's but mine. Hm! It is true that the Lord Jesus is merciful and if any one sin not for his own benefit, but on account of mercy for human misery, he forgives more easily! 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 help Danusia and Zbyszko, because he loved the girl, whom he had known from childhood. Then he remembered that at the worst, he would be punished with 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 do you command, gracious lady?"
"I do not wish to command but to beg," answered the lady. "If that Sanderus has pardons – "
"Sanderus has. But there is the question about the bishop. He is very severe with the canons in Plock."
"Do not be afraid of the bishop. I have heard that he has forbidden the priest to carry swords and crossbows and has forbidden different licenses, 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 and the princess, Danusia and Father Wyszoniek sat round it and began to plan how they should act.
They decided to keep it secret so that not a soul in the house should know anything about it; they also decided that Jurand must not know until the princess herself told him in Ciechanow about everything.
In the meanwhile, the ksiondz Wyszoniek was to write a letter from the princess to Jurand and ask him to come to Ciechanow, where he could find better medicine and where he will not weary. Finally, they decided, that Zbyszko and Danusia will go to confession, that the wedding ceremony will be performed during the night, when everybody will retire.
The thought came to Zbyszko to have his shield-bearer, the Czech, as a witness of the wedding; but he gave up the idea when he remembered that he had received him from Jagienka. For a moment she stood in his memory as though present, so that it seemed to him that he saw her blushing face and her eyes full of tears, and heard her pleading voice say: "Do not do that! Do not repay me with evil for good, nor with misery for love!" Then at once great compassion for her seized him, because he felt that a great wrong would be done her, after which she would find no consolation under the roof of Zgorzelice, nor in the depths of the forest, nor in the fields, nor in the abbot's gifts, nor in Cztan and Wilk's courtship. Therefore he said inwardly: "Girl, may God give you the best of everything, 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 him relief, and tranquillity returned, so that immediately he began to think only about Danusia and the wedding.
But he was obliged to call the Czech to help him; therefore although he determined not to say a word to him about what was going to happen, he summoned 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 the king's palace."
The Czech was a little afraid and began to look into his face; Zbyszko having noticed this, said:
"Do not be alarmed, people do not go to confession only when they expect to die; the holy days are coming, Father Wyszoniek and the princess are going to Ciechanow, and then there will be no priest nearer than in Przasnysz."
"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 brought that white jaka embroidered with gold, in which the knight used to dress for great occasions, and also a beautiful rug to cover the bed; then having lifted Zbyszko, with the help of the two Turks, he washed him, and combed his long hair on which he put a scarlet zone; finally he placed him on red cushions, and satisfied with his own work, said: