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

by Henryk Sienkiewicz

  CHAPTER II.

  When Zbyszko heard the ill tidings, he did not even ask the prince'spermission, but hastened to the stable and ordered his horse to besaddled. The Bohemian, being a noble-born armor-bearer, met Zbyszko inthe hall before he returned to the house, and brought him a warm furcoat, yet he did not attempt to detain his young master, for he possessedstrong natural sense; he knew that detention would be of no avail, andonly loss of time, he therefore mounted the second horse and seized sometorches from the guard at the gate, and started at once together with theprince's men who were under the management of the old castellan.Impenetrable darkness enveloped them beyond the gate, but the stormseemed to them to have moderated; were it not for the man who notifiedthem of the accident, they would have lost their way at once; but he hada trained dog with him which being acquainted with the road, enabled himto proceed safely and quickly. In the open field the storm againincreased and began to cut their faces. It may be because they galloped.The road was filled with snow, so much so that in some places they wereobliged to slacken their speed, for the horses sank up to their belliesin snow. The prince's people lighted their torches and fire-pots andmoved on amid smoke and flames; the wind blew with such force as thoughit endeavored to tear the flames from the torches and carry them over thefield and forest. It was a long journey. They passed the settlement nearCiechanow, then they passed Niedzborz, then they turned toward Radzanow.

  The storm began really to subside beyond Niedzborz; the gusts of windwere less frequent and no longer carried immense snowclouds. The skycleared. Some snow yet drifted from the hills, but it soon ceased. Thestars appeared here and there between the broken clouds. The horses beganto snort, the horsemen breathed freely. The stars came out by degrees andit began to freeze. In a short time the storm subsided entirely.

  Sir de Lorche who rode beside Zbyszko began to comfort him, saying, thatJurand undoubtedly in moments of peril thought of his daughter's safetyabove everything, and although all those buried in the snow should befound dead, she undoubtedly would be discovered alive, probably sleepingin her fur robes. But Zbyszko understood him not, in fact he had no timeto listen to him. When, after a little while, the guide who was riding infront of them turned from the road, the young knight moved in front andinquired:

  "Why do we deviate from the road?"

  "Because they are not covered up on the road, but yonder! Do you observethat clump of alders?"

  And he pointed with his hand to the darkening in the distant thicketwhich could be seen plainly on the white snow-covered expanse, when theclouds unveiled the moon's disk and the night became clear.

  "They have apparently wandered from the road; they turned aside and movedin a small circle along the river; in the wind and drifting snow, it isquite easy to go astray. They moved on and on as long as the horses didnot give out."

  "How did you find them?"

  "The dog led us."

  "Are there any huts near here?"

  "Yes, but they are on the other side of the river. Close here is Wkra."

  "Whip up the horses," commanded Zbyszko.

  But the command was easier than the execution of the order. The piled upsnow upon the meadow was not yet frozen firm, and the horses sankknee-deep in the drifts; they were therefore obliged to move slowly.Suddenly they heard the barking of a dog; directly in front of them therewas the deformed thick stump of a willow-tree upon which glistened in thelight of the moon a crown of leafless twigs.

  "They are farther off," said the guide, "they are near the alder clump,but it seems that here also there might be something."

  "There is much drift under the willow-tree. Bring a light."

  Several attendants dismounted and lit up the place with their torches.One of them soon exclaimed:

  "There is a man under the snow, his head is visible. Here!"

  "There is also a horse," said another.

  "Dig them out!"

  They began to remove the snow with their spades and throw it aside.

  In a moment they observed a human being under the tree, his head upon hischest, and his cap pulled down over his face. One hand held the reins ofthe horse that lay beside him with its nostrils buried in the snow. Itwas obvious that the man must have left the company, probably with theobject of reaching a human habitation as quickly as possible in order tosecure help, and when the horse fell he had then taken refuge under thelee of the willow-tree.

  "Light!" shouted Zbyszko.

  The attendant brought the torch near the face of the frozen man, but hisfeatures could not be distinguished. Only when a second attendant liftedthe head from the chest, they all exclaimed with one accord:

  "It is the lord of Spychow!"

  Zbyszko ordered two of his men to carry him to the nearest hut and try toresuscitate him, but himself lost no time but hastened with the rest ofthe attendants and the guide to rescue the rest of the retinue. On theway it crossed Zbyszko's mind that perhaps he might find his wife Danuskadead, and he urged on his horse who waded up to his breast in snow, tohis last breath.

  Fortunately it was not distant, a few furlongs at most. In the darknessvoices were heard exclaiming: "_Byway_."[107] They were those who hadbeen left with the snow-covered people.

  Zbyszko rushed in and jumped from his horse and shouted:

  "To the spades!"

  Two sleighs were dug out before they reached those in the rear. Thehorses and the people in the sleighs were frozen to death, and past allhope of reviving. The place where the other teams were could berecognized by the heaps of snow, though not all the sleighs were entirelycovered with snow; in front of some of the sleighs were the horses up totheir bellies, in the posture of their last effort to run. In front ofone team there stood a man up to his belt in snow, holding a lance andmotionless as a post; in front of the others were dead attendants holdingthe horses by their muzzles. Death had apparently overtaken them at themoment when they attempted to extricate the horses from the drifts. Oneteam, at the very end of the train, was not at all in the drift. Thedriver sat in front bent, his hands protecting his ears, but in the rearlay two people, who, owing to the continuous, long snow-fall, werecompletely covered. On their breasts, to escape the drift, they layclosely side by side, and the snow covered them like a blanket. Theyseemed to be sleeping peacefully. But others perished, struggling hardwith the snow-drift to the last moment, their benumbed positiondemonstrated the fact. A few sleighs were upset, others had their polesbroken. The spades now and then uncovered horses' backs, bent like bows,and jaws biting the snow. People were within and beside the sleighs. Butthere was no woman in any of the sleighs. At times even Zbyszko laboredwith the spade till his brow was covered with perspiration, and at othershe looked with palpitating heart into the eyes of the corpses, perchanceto discover the face of his beloved. But all in vain. The faces which thetorchlight revealed were those of whiskered soldiers of Spychow. NeitherDanusia nor any other woman was there.

  "What does it mean?" the young knight asked himself with astonishment.

  He hailed those working at a distance and inquired whether they had comeacross anything else, but they too only found the corpses of men. At lastthe work was finished. The servants hitched their own horses to thesleighs, placed the corpses in them and drove to Niedzborz, to make anattempt there in the warm mansion, to restore some of the dead to life.Zbyszko, the Bohemian and two attendants remained. It crossed his mindthat the sleigh containing Danusia might have separated from the train,or that Jurand's sleigh, as might be supposed, was drawn by his besthorses and had been ordered to drive in front; and it might also be thatJurand had left her somewhere in one of the huts along the road. Zbyszkodid not know what to do. In any case he desired to examine closely thedrifts and grove, and then return and search along the road.

  But nothing was found in the drifts. In the grove he only saw severalglistening wolves' eyes, but nowhere discovered any traces of people orhorses. The meadow between the woods and road now sparkled in the shinylight of the moon, and upon its w
hite mournful cover he really espieddark spots, but those were only wolves that quickly vanished at theapproach of people.

  "Your grace!" finally said the Bohemian. "Our search is in vain, for theyoung lady of Spychow was not in the train."

  "To the road!" replied Zbyszko.

  "We shall not find her there either. I looked well in the sleighs for anybaskets containing ladies' finery, but I discovered none. The young ladyremained in Spychow."

  This supposition struck Zbyszko as correct, he therefore said:

  "God grant it to be as you say!"

  But the Bohemian penetrated further into his thoughts, and proceeded withhis reasoning.

  "If she were in one of the sleighs the old gentleman would not haveseparated from her, or when he left the train he would have taken herwith him on horseback, and we should have found her with him."

  "Come, let us go there once more," said Zbyszko, in a restless voice. Itstruck him that the Bohemian might be right, perhaps they had notsearched enough where the old man was discovered, perhaps Jurand hadtaken Danusia with him on horseback, and when the horse fell, she hadleft her father in search of assistance, in that case she might besomewhere under the snow in the neighborhood.

  But Glowacz as though divining his thoughts, said:

  "In such a case ladies' apparel would have been found in the sleighs,because she would not have left for the court with only her travelingdress."

  In spite of these reasonable suppositions they returned to thewillow-tree, but neither there nor for a furlong around did they discoveranything. The prince's people had already taken Jurand to Niedzborz, andthe whole neighborhood was a complete desolation. The Bohemian observedfurther, that the dog that ran ahead of the guide and found Jurand wouldalso have discovered the young lady. Then Zbyszko breathed freely, for hewas almost sure that Danusia had remained at home. He was even able toexplain why she did so. Danusia had confessed all to her father, and hewas not satisfied with the marriage, and so purposely left her at home,and went by himself to see the prince and bring an action, and ask forhis intercession with the bishop. At this thought Zbyszko could not helpfeeling a certain sense of relief, and even gladness, when hecomprehended that by reason of Jurand's death all hindrances hadvanished. "Jurand was unwilling, but the Lord Jesus wants it," said theyoung knight to himself, "and God's will is always the strongest." Now,he had only to go to Spychow and fetch Danuska as his own and thencomplete the nuptials. It is even easier to marry her on the frontierthan there in the distant Bogdaniec. "God's will! God's will!" herepeated in his soul. But suddenly he felt ashamed of this premature joyand turned to the Bohemian and said:

  "Certainly I am sorry for him and I proclaim it aloud."

  "They say that the Germans feared him like death," replied the Bohemian.

  Presently he inquired:

  "Shall we now return to the castle?"

  "By way of Niedzborz," answered Zbyszko. When they called at Niedzborzand then left for the court, where the old proprietor Zelech receivedthem, they did not find Jurand, but Zelech told them good news.

  "They first rubbed him with snow almost to the bones, then poured wineinto his mouth and then put him in a scalding bath where he began tobreathe."

  "Is he alive?" joyfully asked Zbyszko, who on hearing the news forgot hisown interests.

  "He lives, but as to his continuing to live God only knows, for the soulthat has arrived half way is unwilling to return."

  "Why did they remove him?"

  "The prince sent for him, and they have wrapped him up in as many featherblankets as they could find in the house and carried him away."

  "Did he say anything about his daughter?"

  "He only began to breathe but did not recover speech."

  "And the others?"

  "They are already with God, and the poor fellows will no more be able toattend the _pasterce_ (Christmas Eve feast) unless at that which the LordJesus Himself will prepare in heaven."

  "None else survived?"

  "None. Come into the entrance hall, the place to converse, and if youwish to see them, they lie along the fireside in the servants' room. Comeinside."

  But they were in a hurry and did not wish to enter, although old Zelechinsisted, for he was glad to get hold of people in order to chat withthem. There was yet, quite a considerable distance from Niedzborz toCiechanow, and Zbyszko was burning like fire to see Jurand as soon aspossible and learn something from him.

  They therefore rode as fast as they could along the snow-covered road.When they arrived it was already after midnight, and the Christmas feast(lit-Shepherd ceremony) was just ended in the castle chapel. Zbyszkoheard the lowing of oxen and the bleating of goats, which voices wereproduced in accordance with the ancient religious custom, in remembrancethat the nativity took place in a stable. After the mass, the princesscame to Zbyszko. She looked distressed and frightened, and began toquestion him:

  "And Danuska?"

  "Is she not here, has Jurand said nothing, for according to what Igathered she lives?"

  "Merciful Jesus!... God's punishment and woe to us! Jurand has not spokenand he lies like a log."

  "Fear not, gracious lady. Danuska remained in Spychow."

  "How do you know?"

  "Because there is no trace of ladies' apparel found in any of thesleighs; she could not have left with only her traveling dress."

  "True, as God is dear to me!"

  Her eyes immediately were lit up with joy and after a while sheexclaimed:

  "Hej! It seems that Christ the Infant, who was born to-day is not angrywith you, but has a blessing upon us!"

  The only thing which surprised her was the presence of Jurand without hisdaughter. Then she continued questioning him:

  "What caused him to leave her at home?"

  Zbyszko explained to her his own reason, which seemed to her just, butshe did not comprehend it sufficiently.

  "Jurand will now be thankful to us for his life," she said, "and forsoothhe owes it to you because you went to dig him out. His heart would be ofstone if he were still to continue his opposition to you. In this thereis also God's warning to him not to oppose the holy sacrament. I shalltell him so as soon as he comes to his senses and is able to speak."

  "It is necessary for him first to recover consciousness, because we donot yet know why he has not brought Danuska with him. Perhaps she issick?"

  "Do not say that something has happened I I feel so much troubled thatshe is not here. If she were sick he would not have left her."

  "True!" said Zbyszko.

  They went to Jurand. The heat in the room was intense, as in a bath. Itwas light, because there were big pine logs in the fireplace. FatherWyszoniek kept watch over the patient, who lay in bed, covered with abear-skin; his face was pale, his hair matted with perspiration, and hiseyes closed. His mouth was open, and his chest laboring with difficulty,but with such force that his breathing moved the bear-skin covering upand down.

  "How is he doing?" inquired the princess.

  "I poured a mug of hot wine into his mouth," replied the priest, "andperspiration ensued."

  "Is he asleep, or not?"

  "Probably not, for he labors heavily."

  "Did you try to speak to him?"

  "We tried, but he did not answer, and I believe that he will not speakbefore dawn."

  "We will wait till the dawn," said the princess.

  The priest insisted that she should retire but she paid no attention, forshe always in everything wished not to fall short of the late QueenJadwiga, in Christian virtues, in caring for the sick and to redeem withher merits her father's soul; she therefore did not omit any opportunityto make the old Christian country appear no worse than others, and bythis means to obliterate the remembrance that she was born in a heathenland.

  Besides that, she was burning with desire to hear from Jurand's own lipsabout Danusia, for she was much concerned about her. She therefore sat byhis bedside and began to tell her beads, and then dozed. Zbyszko who hadnot yet en
tirely recovered and was moreover greatly fatigued by the nightjourney, followed her example; and as the hours passed on, both fellasleep, so soundly that they might have slept on till daylight, if theyhad not awakened by the ringing of the bell of the castle chapel.

  But the same sound also awoke Jurand, who opened his eyes and suddenlysat up in bed and began to stare about him with blinking eyes.

  "Praised be Jesus Christ!... How do you feel?" said the princess.

  But he apparently had not yet regained consciousness, for he looked ather as though he knew her not, and after awhile he exclaimed:

  "Hurry! Be quick! Dig open the snowdrift."

  "In the name of God, you are already in Ciechanow!" again replied theprincess.

  Jurand wrinkled his brow like one who with difficulty tries to collecthis thoughts, and replied:

  "In Ciechanow?... The child is waiting ... and ... principality ...Danuska! Danuska!"

  Suddenly, he closed his eyes and again fell back on the pillow. Zbyszkoand the princess feared lest he was dead, but at the same moment hisbreast began to heave and he breathed deeply like one who is fast asleep.

  Father Wyszoniek put his finger to his lips and motioned not to awakehim, then he whispered:

  "He may sleep thus a whole day."

  "So, but what did he say?" asked the princess.

  "He said that the child waits in Ciechanow," Zbyszko replied.

  "Because he does not remember," explained the priest.