CHAPTER V.
But Zbyszko, riding behind him, could not stand it very long, and said tohimself: "I would rather have him burst forth in anger, than becomeembittered." He therefore rode up to him and jogging his stirrup againsthis, he commenced to speak: "Listen how it happened. You know whatDanusia did for me in Krakow, but you do not know that they proposed tome Jagienka of Bogdaniec, the daughter of Zych of Zgorzelice. My uncle,Macko, was in favor of it, also her parents and Zych; a relative, anabbot, a wealthy man as well.... What is the use of many words?--anhonest girl and a beautiful woman and the dowry respectable also. But itcould not be. I felt sorry for Jagienka, but still more so forDanusia--and I set out to her to Mazowsze, because, I tell you frankly, Icould not live any longer without her. Recollect the time when youyourself loved--recollect it! and it will not seem strange to you."
Here Zbyszko broke off, waiting for a word from Jurand, but as the latterremained silent, he continued:
"God gave me an opportunity at the Forest Court to save the princess andDanusia from a wild bull while hunting. And the princess immediatelysaid: 'Now Jurand will not object any more, because how could he refuseto reward such a deed?' But I did not wish to take her even then withoutyour parental consent. Yet! I was weak,... because the terrible animalinjured me so much, that it almost killed me. But then, as you know,those people came for Danusia, in order to take her, as it seemed, toSpychow, and I was still unable to leave my bed. I thought I should neversee her again. I thought that you would take her to Spychow and give herto some one else. You objected to me at Krakow ... and I already thoughtthat I should die. Ah! great God, what a night I passed. Nothing butworry; nothing but grief! I thought that if she also left me, the sunwould rise no more. Consider human love and human grief!"
And, for a moment, tears almost choked Zbyszko's voice, but, having acourageous heart, he controlled himself and said:
"The people arrived for her in the evening and wanted to take herimmediately, but the princess ordered them to wait until morning. Justthen Jesus inspired me with the idea of presenting the princess with mycompliments and asking her for Danusia. I thought that if I died I shouldhave that consolation at least. Remember that the girl had to leave,while I remained ill and nearly dying. There was also no time to ask foryour permission. The prince was no longer in the Forest Court, theprincess therefore weighed both sides because she had nobody to takecounsel with. But they, together with Father Wyszoniek at last took pityupon me, and Father Wyszoniek performed the ceremony.... God's power,God's right!..."
But Jurand interrupted, gloomily: "And God's punishment!"
"Why should there be punishment?" inquired Zbyszko. "Consider only, theyhad sent for her before the ceremony, and whether it had been performedor not, they would have carried her off nevertheless."
But Jurand again replied nothing, and rode on alone, gloomy, and withsuch a stony face, that though Zbyszko at first felt the relief thatconfession of a long concealed thing always produces, at length he wasseized with fear and said to himself, with constantly increasing fear,that the old knight was bitterly angered, and that thenceforth they wouldbe strangers and foes to each other. And there came upon him a moment ofgreat depression. He had never felt so badly since his departure fromBogdaniec. It seemed to him now that there was no hope of reconciliationwith Jurand, nor, what was far worse, of saving Danusia, that all was ofno avail, and that in the future still greater misfortunes and miserieswould befall him. But this depression of spirits lasted a short whileonly, and, in accordance with his nature, it soon changed into anger, anda desire for quarreling and fight. "He does not want peace," he said tohimself, thinking of Jurand, "then let there be discord, let come whatwill!" And he was ready to fly at Jurand's face. He also longed for afight with anybody for anything, merely to do something, merely to givevent to his grief, bitterness and anger, and so find some relief.
Meanwhile they arrived at an inn at a ford called Swietlik, where Jurand,on his return from the prince's court, usually allowed his people andhorses to rest. He did so now also involuntarily. After a while he andZbyszko found themselves alone in a separate chamber. Suddenly Jurandstopped before the young knight and, fixing his eyes upon him, inquired:
"Did you wander about for her sake?"
The other almost harshly retorted:
"Do you suppose that I shall deny it?" And he looked straight intoJurand's eyes, ready to meet anger with anger. But there was noindignation in the old warrior's face; there was only almost boundlessgrief.
"And you saved my child?" he inquired, after a moment, "and dug me out?"
But Zbyszko looked at him in astonishment and fear that his mind waswandering, because Jurand repeated exactly the same questions that he hadalready asked.
"Be seated," he said, "because it seems to me that you are still weak."
But Jurand raised his hands, placed them on Zbyszko's shoulders, and sodrew him suddenly with all his strength to his breast; the other,recovering from a momentary amazement, clasped him round the waist andthey embraced each other for a long time, because mutual anxiety andmutual woe united them.
After relaxing their hold, Zbyszko again embraced the older knight'sknees, and began to kiss his hands with tears in his eyes.
"Will you not object to me?" he asked.
To that Jurand replied: "I did oppose you, because in my soul Iconsecrated her to God."
"You devoted her to God, and God to me. His will!"
"His will!" repeated Jurand. "But now we need mercy also."
"Whom will God help, if not a father who seeks his daughter; if not ahusband who seeks his wife? He will certainly not assist robbers."
"But they captured her nevertheless," answered Jurand.
"Then you will return von Bergow to them."
"I shall return all they wish."
But at the thought of the Teutons, the old passion soon awoke in him andenfolded him like a flame, because he added after a moment through hisclenched teeth:
"I shall also add to it what they do not want."
"I also swore their ruin," replied Zbyszko, "but now we must make hasteto Spychow."
And he commenced to hasten the saddling of the horses. Accordingly, afterthey had eaten their oats, and the men had warmed themselves in therooms, they started out, although it was growing dark outside. As the waywas long, and a severe frost had set in for the night, Jurand andZbyszko, who had not yet regained their strength, traveled in sledges.Zbyszko told about Uncle Macko, for whom his heart yearned, and regrettedthat he was not present, because his courage as well as craft might be ofuse, the latter qualification being more necessary against such foes thancourage. At last he turned to Jurand and inquired:
"And are you cunning?... Because I am not."
"Neither am I," retorted Jurand. "I did not fight them with craft, butwith this hand and that which remained in me."
"I understand that," said the young knight. "I understand it because Ilove Danusia and because they carried her off. If, God forbid...."
And he did not finish, because the mere thought made him feel not a humanbut a wolfs heart in his breast. For some time they rode silently over awhite, moonlight-flooded road; then Jurand commenced to speak as if tohimself:
"If they only had any reason to take revenge on me--I would not say! Butgracious God! they had none.... I waged war with them in the field, whensent on an embassy by our prince to Witold, but here I was like aneighbor to neighbors.... Bartosz Natecz captured, chained and imprisonedunder ground in Kozmin forty knights who attacked him. The Teutons werecompelled to pay half a wagonful of money for them. While I, when aGerman guest happened to come on his way to the Teutons, received andrewarded him like one knight another. Frequently also, the Teutons cameagainst me across the swamps. I was not hard on them then, and they didto me what I would not do even to-day to my greatest foe...."
And terrible recollections began to tear him with increasing force, hisvoice died away for an instant in his breast, then he said, halfgr
oaning: "I had only one, like a ewe lamb, like the heart in my breast,and they captured her like a dog on a rope, and she died there.... Nowagain, the child ... Jesus, Jesus!"
And again there was silence. Zbyszko raised his youthful, perplexed facetoward the moon, then again looked at Jurand and inquired:
"Father!... It would be far better for them to earn men's esteem thantheir vengeance. Why do they commit so much wrong on all nations and allpeople?"
But Jurand spread his hands apart as if in despair, and replied with achoked voice: "I do not know...."
Zbyszko meditated for a time over his own question, presently however histhoughts turned to Jurand.
"People say that you wreaked a worthy vengeance," he said.
Jurand meanwhile controlled his anguish, bethought himself and said:
"But I swore their ruin ... and I also swore to God that if He wouldpermit me to glut my vengeance I would surrender to Him the child thatwas left to me. This is the reason why I objected to you. But now I donot know: was it His will, or did you awaken His anger by your action?"
"No," said Zbyszko. "I told you once before that even if the ceremony hadnot been performed, yet the scoundrels would have carried her off. Godaccepted your vow, and presented me with Danusia, because without Hiswill we could accomplish nothing."
"Every sin is against God's will."
"A sin is, but not the sacrament. Because the sacrament is God's matter."
"Therefore there is no help."
"And God be blessed there is not! Therefore do not complain, becausenobody would help you against the robbers so well as I will. You willsee! In any case I shall pay them for Danusia, but even if one of thosewho captured your deceased be still alive, leave him to me and you shallsee!"
But Jurand shook his head.
"No," he answered, gloomily, "none of those will be alive...."
For a time only the snorting of horses and the smothered echo of thehoofs striking against the beaten road was audible.
"Once at night," continued Jurand, "I heard a voice, as if coming from awall, saying to me: 'Enough vengeance!' but I did not obey, because itwas not the voice of the deceased."
"And whose voice could that be?" inquired Zbyszko, anxiously.
"I do not know. In Spychow frequently something talks in the walls, andsometimes moans, because many have died there in chains underground."
"And what does the priest tell you?"
"The priest sanctified the castle and also ordered me to relinquishvengeance, but that could not be. I became too hard on them, and thenthey themselves sought revenge. They lay in ambush and challenged me inthe field.... And so it was this time. Meineger and von Bergow were thefirst to challenge me."
"Did you ever accept ransom?"
"Never! Of those I have captured, von Bergow will be the first to comeout alive."
The conversation ceased, because they now turned from the broad highwayinto a narrower road, on which they traveled for a long time in silenceon account of its tortuous course, and because in some places the snowformed drifts difficult to traverse. In the spring or summer, on rainydays, this road must have been almost impassable.
"Are we approaching Spychow already?" asked Zbyszko.
"Yes," answered Jurand. "There is a good deal of forest yet, and thenbegin the morasses, in the centre of which is the castle.... Beyond themorasses are the marshes and dry fields, while the castle can beapproached only by the dike. The Germans wished to capture me repeatedly,but they could not, and their bones rot among the forest weeds."
"And it is hard to find," said Zbyszko. "If the Teutons send messengerswith letters, how will they find us?"
"They have sent out several times already, and they have people who knowthe way."
"If we could only meet them at Spychow," said Zbyszko.
This wish was realized sooner than the young knight thought, for issuingfrom the forest into the open country, where lay Spychow among theswamps, they perceived before them two riders and a low sledge, in whichwere sitting three dark figures.
The night was very bright, therefore the whole group was perfectlyvisible against the white background of snow. Jurand's and Zbyszko'sheart began to beat faster at this sight, because who else would beriding to Spychow in the middle of the night, but the messengers from theTeutons?
Zbyszko ordered the driver to go faster, and so they soon came so neareach other, that they could be heard, and two riders, who apparentlywatched over the safety of the sledge, turned to them, and, unslingingtheir crossbows, cried:
"Who is there?"
"Germans!" whispered Jurand to Zbyszko.
Then he raised his voice and said:
"It is my right to ask, and yours to reply!"
"Who are you?"
"Travelers."
"What sort of travelers?"
"Pilgrims."
"Where from?"
"From Szczytno."
"It is they!" again whispered Jurand.
Meanwhile the sledges had come together, and at the same time sixhorsemen appeared before them. This was the guard of Spychow, whichwatched the dike leading to the castle day and night. With the horseswere very large and savage dogs, exactly resembling wolves.
The guardsmen, having recognized Jurand, began to utter cries of welcomemingled with astonishment that the master had returned so soon andunexpectedly; but he was entirely engaged with the messengers, andtherefore turned to them again:
"Where are you traveling to?" he asked.
"To Spychow."
"What do you want there?"
"We can tell that only to the lord himself."
Jurand was about to say: "I am the lord of Spychow;" but he restrainedhimself, feeling that conversation could not be carried on in thepresence of others. He asked them instead, whether they had any letters,and, when they replied that they were ordered to communicate verbally, hegave orders to drive as fast as the horses could go. Zbyszko was equallyanxious to hear news of Danusia, and could not turn his attention toanything else. He became impatient when the guards on the dike stoppedthem twice; and when the bridge was lowered over the moat, behind whichrose on the mound a gigantic palisade, and although he had previouslyoften desired to see that castle of ominous fame, at the mention of whichthe Germans made the sign of a cross, now he saw nothing but the Teutonmessengers, from whom he might hear where Danusia was and when she wouldbe set at liberty. He did not foresee though, that a great disappointmentwas awaiting him. Besides the horsemen, who were given for defence, andthe driver, the embassy from Szczytno was composed of two persons: one ofthese was the same woman who had once brought the healing balsam to theForest Court; the other was a young _pontnik_.[108] Zbyszko did notrecognize the woman, because he had not seen her at the Forest Court; the_pontnik_ at once seemed to him to be a disguised warrior. Jurand soonled both into the neighboring room, and halted before them, huge, andalmost terrible in the glow of the fire, which fell upon him from thelogs burning in the chimney.
"Where is the child?" he asked.
But they were frightened, standing face to face with a menacing man.Although the _pontnik_ had an insolent face, he simply trembled like aleaf, and the woman's legs trembled also. She glanced from Jurand toZbyszko, and then at the shining bald head of the priest Kaleb, and thenagain at Jurand, as if inquiring what the other two were doing there.
"Sir," she said, finally, "we do not know what you are asking, but wewere sent to you on important matters. Yet, the one who sent us orderedus explicitly, that the conversation should be held without witnesses."
"I have no secrets from these!" said Jurand.
"But we have, noble lord," replied the woman, "and if you order them toremain, then we shall ask for nothing but that you allow us to leaveto-morrow."
Anger appeared in Jurand's face as he was not used to opposition. For amoment his tawny moustache worked ominously, but he reflected, "ForDanusia's sake!" and restrained himself. Moreover, Zbyszko, who wantedabove all things that the conversation mi
ght be concluded as soon aspossible, and felt sure that Jurand would repeat it to him, said:
"If it must be so, then remain alone." And he left, together with thepriest Kaleb; but he scarcely found himself in the main hall, in whichwere hanging targets and weapons, captured by Jurand, when Glowaczapproached him.
"Sir," he said, "that is the same woman!"
"What woman?"
"From the Teutons, who brought the balsam. I recognized her at once, andso did Sanderus. She came, at it seems, to spy, and she certainly knowsnow where the lady is."
"And we shall know," said Zbyszko.
"Do you also know that _pontnik_?"
"No," replied Sanderus; "but do not buy, sir, any remissions from him,because he is a false _pontnik_,"
"If you put him to the torture, you might obtain a lot of information."
"Wait!" said Zbyszko.
Meanwhile, in the next room hardly had the doors closed behind Zbyszkoand the priest Kaleb, when the sister of the Order quickly approachedJurand and whispered:
"Robbers captured your daughter."
"With crosses on their robes?"
"No. But God blessed the pious brethren, so that they recovered her, andnow she is with them."
"Where is she, I ask."
"Under the care of the religious Brother Shomberg," she answered,crossing her hands on her breast and bowing humbly.
But Jurand, hearing the dreadful name of the hangman of Witold'schildren, turned as pale as linen; after a moment he sat on a bench, shuthis eyes, and began to wipe away the cold perspiration, which collectedin beads on his forehead.
Seeing this, the _pontnik_, although he had not hitherto been able torestrain his fear, now put his hands on his hips, lounged on the bench,stretched out his legs and looked at Jurand, with eyes full of pride andscorn. A long silence followed.
"Brother Markward also assists Brother Shomberg in guarding her," againsaid the woman; "it is a vigilant watch and no harm will happen to thelady."
"What am I to do in order to get her back?" inquired Jurand.
"To humble yourself before the Order!" proudly said the _pontnik_.
At this Jurand arose, went up to him, and bending down over him, said inconcentrated, terrible tones:
"Be silent!"
And the _pontnik_ was again terror-stricken. He knew, that he couldthreaten and say what would tame and overwhelm Jurand, but he wasterrified lest, before saying a word, something dreadful would happen tohim; he therefore remained silent, with dilated eyes, as if petrifiedwith fear, fixed on the threatening face of the lord of Spychow, and satmotionless, only his beard began to quiver with agitation.
Jurand again turned to the sister of the Order:
"Have you a letter?"
"No, sir. We have no letter. What we have to say, we were ordered to sayverbally."
"Then speak!"
And she repeated again, as if wishing that Jurand should impress it wellin his memory:
"Brother Shomberg and Brother Markward watch over the lady; therefore,you sir, restrain your anger.... But no evil will happen to her, becausealthough you have gravely injured the Order for many years, neverthelessthe brethren wish to repay you good for evil if you comply with theirjust demands."
"What do they wish?"
"They wish you to release Herr von Bergow."
Jurand breathed heavily.
"I will return von Bergow to them," he said.
"And the other prisoners that you have in Spychow."
"There are two retainers of Meineger and von Bergow, besides their boys."
"You must release them, sir, and make amends for the imprisonment."
"God forbid that I should bargain for my child."
"The religious friars expected that from you," said the woman, "but thisis not all that I was ordered to say. Your daughter, sir, was captured bysome men, undoubtedly robbers, and certainly for the purpose of demandinga rich ransom. God permitted the brethren to recapture her, and now theydemand nothing but the return of their brother and associate. But thebrethren know, and you, too, sir, what hatred there is in this countryagainst them, and how unfairly even their most righteous actions arejudged. For this reason the brethren are sure that, if the people herefound out that your daughter was with them, they would at once begin tosuspect that they had captured her, and would consequently utter onlyslander and complaints.... O yes, evil and malicious people here havefrequently repaid them so, and the reputation of the holy Order hassuffered greatly by it, and the brethren are greatly concerned about it,and therefore they add this sole condition that you alone assure theprince of this country and all the mighty knights that it is true, thatnot the Teutonic knights, but robbers carried off your daughter, and thatyou had to ransom her from robbers."
"It is true," said Jurand, "that bandits have captured my child, and thatI have to buy her back from bandits...."
"You shall tell nobody otherwise, because if only one person should findout that you come to terms with the brethren, if only one living soul oronly one complaint were sent to the master, or the assembly, greatcomplications would ensue."
Jurand's face exhibited great alarm. At the first moment it seemed to himquite natural that the knights required secrecy, fearing responsibilityand disgrace, but now a suspicion arose in his mind that there might beanother reason, but, not being able to account for it, he was seized withsuch terror as sometimes happens to the most courageous when danger doesnot threaten them alone, but also their relatives and loved ones.
He determined however to find out more from the Order's servant.
"The knights wish secrecy," he said, "but how can it be kept, when Irelease von Bergow and the others in return for my child?"
"You will say that you accepted ransom for von Bergow in order to be ableto pay the robbers."
"People will not believe it, because I never accepted ransom," gloomilyreplied Jurand.
"But your child was never in question," hissed the messenger in reply.
And again silence followed, after which the _pontnik_, who, in themeanwhile had gained courage, and judged that Jurand must now restrainhimself more, said:
"Such is the will of the brethren Shomberg and Markward."
The messenger continued:
"You will say, that this _pontnik_ who came with me, brought you theransom, we also will leave here with the noble von Bergow and theprisoners."
"How so?" said Jurand, frowning, "do you think that I will give up theprisoners before you return my child?"
"You can act, sir, still differently. You can call personally for yourdaughter at Szczytno, whither the brethren will bring her to you."
"I? at Szczytno?"
"Because, should the bandits capture her again on the way, your and yourpeople's suspicion would again fall upon the pious knights, and thereforethey prefer to give her into your own hands."
"And who will pledge himself for my return, if I walk alone into a wolf'sthroat?"
"The virtue of the brethren, their justice and godliness!"
Jurand began to walk up and down the room. He began to suspect treasonand feared it, but he felt at the same time that the Teutons could imposeany conditions they pleased upon him, and that he was powerless beforethem.
However, an idea struck him, and suddenly halting before the _pontnik_,he gazed at him with a piercing look, and then turned to the messengerand said;
"Well, I will go to Szczytno. You and this man, who is wearing _pontnik_garb, will remain here until my return, after which you will leave withvon Bergow and the prisoners."
"Do you refuse, sir, to believe friars." said the _pontnik_; "how thencan they trust you to liberate us and von Bergow on your return?"
Jurand's face turned pale with fury, and a critical moment followed, inwhich it almost seemed that he would catch the _pontnik_ by the throatand dash him to the floor; but he suppressed his anger, drew a deepbreath and commenced to speak slowly but emphatically.
"Whoever you are, do not strain my patience t
o the breaking point!"
But the _pontnik_ turned to the sister: "Speak! what you were ordered."
"Lord," she said: "we would not dare distrust your oath upon your swordand knightly honor, but it is not proper for you to swear before peopleof low rank. And we were not sent for your oath."
"What were you sent for?"
"The brethren told us that, without saying anything to anybody, you mustappear at Szczytno with von Bergow and the prisoners."
At that, Jurand's shoulders began to draw together, and his fingers toextend like the claws of a bird of prey; at last, stopping before thewoman, he bent down, as if to speak into her ear, and said:
"Did they not tell you that I should order you and von Bergow to bebroken on the wheel in Spychow?"
"Your daughter is in the power of the brethren, and under the care ofShomberg and Markward," replied the sister, meaningly.
"Robbers, poisoners, hangmen!" burst forth Jurand.
"Who are able to avenge us and who said at our departure: 'Should he notcomply with all our orders, it would be far better that the girl shoulddie, as Witold's children died.' Choose!"
"And understand that you are in the power of the knights," remarked the_pontnik_. "They do not wish to do you any harm, and the _starosta_ ofSzczytno sends you his word by us that you shall go free from his castle;but they want you, for the wrong done to them, to present your respectsto the Teuton, and beg for the victor's mercy. They want to forgive you,but they first wish to bend your stubborn neck. You denounced them astraitors and perjurers.--therefore they want you to acknowledge theirgood faith. They will restore you and your daughter to liberty--but youmust beg for it. You trampled upon them--now you must swear that yourhand will never, be raised against the white robe."
"The knights wish it so," added the woman, "and Markward and Shombergwith them."
A moment of deathlike silence followed. It seemed only that somewhereamong the beams of the ceiling some smothered echo repeated as if interror: "Markward ... Shomberg."
Outside the windows could be heard the voices of Jurand's archers keepingwatch on the mounds near the palisade of the castle.
The _pontnik_ and the servant of the Order looked for a long time at eachother and Jurand, who sat leaning against the wall, motionless, and witha face deeply shadowed by furs suspended by the window. His braincontained only one thought, that, if he did not do what the Teutonsdemanded, they would destroy his child; again, if he should do it, hemight perhaps even then not save Danusia nor himself. And he saw no help,no way of escape. He felt a pitiless superior force over him which wascrushing him. He saw in his soul already the iron hands of a Teuton onDanusia's throat; knowing them thoroughly, he did not doubt for a momentthat they would kill her, bury her in the castle yard, and then denyit,--and who would then be able to prove that they had captured her?
It was true that Jurand had the messengers in his power; he could bringthem to the prince and get a confession by means of torture, but theTeutons had Danusia, and they might not care about their agents' torture.And for a moment he seemed to see his child stretching out her hands fromafar, asking for assistance.... If he at least knew that she was reallyat Szczytno, then he could go that very night to the border, attack theunsuspecting Germans, capture the castle, destroy the garrison andliberate the child--but she might not be and positively was not inSzczytno. It flashed like lightning through his head, that if he were toseize the woman and the _pontnik_, and take them directly to the grandmaster, then perhaps the master could draw confessions from them andmight order the return of his daughter; but that gleam was extinguishedalmost as quickly as it took fire.
These people could tell the master that they came to ransom von Bergowand that they knew nothing about a girl. No! that way led to nothing, butwhat did? He thought, that should he go to Szczytno they would chain himand cast him under ground, while Danusia would not be released, lest itshould transpire that they had captured her, if for no other reason. Andmeanwhile death hung over his only child, death over the last dearhead!... And finally his thoughts grew confused, and the pain became sogreat, that it overpowered itself and became numbness. He sat motionless,for his body became as dead as if cut out of stone. If he wanted to risenow, he would not be able to do so.
Meanwhile the others grew tired of the long waiting, therefore theservant of the Order arose and said:
"It will be soon daylight, therefore permit us, sir, to retire, becausewe need a rest."
"And refreshment after the long journey," added the _pontnik_. Then theyboth bowed to Jurand and went out.
But he continued to sit motionless, as if seized by sleep or death.
Presently, however, the door opened and Zbyszko appeared, followed by thepriest Kaleb.
"Who are the messengers? What do they want?" inquired the young knight,approaching Jurand.
Jurand quivered, but at first answered nothing; he only began to blinklike a man awakened from a sound sleep.
"Sir, are you not ill?" said the priest Kaleb, who, knowing Jurandbetter, noticed that something curious was taking place within him.
"No!" replied Jurand.
"And Danusia?" further inquired Zbyszko; "where is she and what did theysay to you?"
"What did they bring?"
"The ransom," slowly replied Jurand.
"The ransom for von Bergow?"
"For von Bergow...."
"How so, for von Bergow? what is the matter with you?"
"Nothing."
But in his voice there was something so strange and listless that asudden fear seized those two, especially because Jurand spoke of theransom and not the exchange of von Bergow for Danusia.
"Gracious God!" exclaimed Zbyszko: "where is Danusia?"
"She is not with the Teutons,--no!" replied Jurand, in a sleepy tone; andsuddenly he fell from the bench upon the floor as if dead.
The Knights of the Cross, or, Krzyzacy: Historical Romance Page 32
