Jagienka understood it not, and she looked at Macko, who said:
"He seems to indicate that his tongue has been torn out."
"Did they tear out your tongue?" asked the girl.
"A! a! a! a!" repeated the beggar several times, nodding his head.
Then he pointed with his fingers to his eyes; then he moved his left hand across his maimed right, showing that it was cut off.
Then both understood him.
"Who did it?" inquired Jagienka.
The beggar again made signs of the cross repeatedly in the air.
"The Knights of the Cross," shouted Macko.
As a sign of affirmation the old man let his head drop upon his chest again.
There was silence for a moment. Macko and Jagienka looked at each other with alarm, because they had now before them sufficient proof of their cruelty and the lack of means to chastise those knights who style themselves "the Knights of the Cross."
"Cruel justice!" said Macko, finally. "They punished him grievously, and God knows whether deservedly. If I only knew where he belongs, I would lead him there, for surely he must be from this neighborhood. He understands our language, for the common people here are the same as in Mazowsze."
"Did you understand what we said?" asked Jagienka.
The beggar nodded his head.
"Are you of this neighborhood?"
"No!" The beggar shook his head.
"Perhaps he comes from Mazowsze?"
"Yes!" he nodded.
"Under Prince Janusz?"
"Yes!"
"But what were you doing among the Knights of the Cross?"
The old man could give no answer, but his face assumed an air of intense suffering, so much so that Jagienka's heart beat with greater force out of sympathy. Even Macko who was not subject to emotion, said:
"I am sure the dog-brothers have wronged him. May be he is innocent."
Jagienka meanwhile put some small change in the beggar's hand.
"Listen," she said, "we will not abandon you. Come with us to Mazowsze, and in every village we will ask you whether it is yours. May be we shall guess it. Meanwhile, get up, for we are no saints."
But he did not get up, nay, he even bowed lower and embraced her feet as much as to place himself under her protection and show his gratitude. Yet there were marks of certain astonishment, yea even disappointment on his face. May be that from the voice he thought he was in the presence of a young woman; but his hand happened to touch the cowskin gaiters which the knights and armor-bearers were accustomed to wear.
But she said:
"It shall be so; our wagons will soon be here, then you will rest and refresh yourself. But we are not going to take you now to Mazowsze because we must first go to Szczytno."
When the old man heard this, he jumped straight up, terror and amazement were depicted on his face. He opened his arms as though desiring to obstruct their way, and strange, wild ejaculations proceeded from his throat, full of terror and dismay.
"What is the matter with you?" exclaimed Jagienka, much frightened.
But the Bohemian, who had already arrived with Sieciechowa, and for some time had his eyes riveted upon the old beggar, suddenly turned to Macko, and with a countenance changed, and in a strange voice, said:
"For God's sake, permit me, sir, to speak to him, for you do not know who he may be."
After this he begged for no further permission, but rushed toward the old man, placed his hands upon his shoulders, and asked him:
"Do you come from Szczytno?"
The old man appeared to be struck by the sound of his voice, quieted himself and nodded affirmatively.
"Did you not look there for your child? …"
A deep groan was the only reply to this question.
Then the Bohemian's face paled a little, he looked sharply for a moment at the outlines of the old man's face, then he said slowly and composedly:
"Then you are Jurand of Spychow."
"Jurand!" shouted Macko.
But Jurand was overcome at that moment and fainted. Protracted torture, want of nourishment, fatigue of the road, swept him from his feet. The tenth day had now passed since he left, groping his way, erring and feeling his way with his stick, hungry, fatigued and not knowing where he was going, unable to ask the way, during the daytime he turned toward the warm rays of the sun, the night he passed in the ditches along the road. When he happened to pass through a village, or hamlet, or accidentally encountered people on the road, he only could beg with his hand and voice, but seldom a compassionate hand helped him, because as a rule he was taken for a criminal whom law and justice had chastised. For two days he had lived on bark and leaves of trees; he was already giving up all hope of reaching Mazowsze, when suddenly compassionate voices and hearts of his own countrymen surrounded him; one of whom reminded him of the sweet voice of his own daughter; and, when at last his own name was mentioned, he was greatly agitated and unable to bear it any longer; his heart broke. His thoughts whirled through his head; and, were it not for the strong arms of the Bohemian which supported him, he would have fallen with his face in the dust of the road.
Macko dismounted, then both took hold of him, and carried him to the wagons and laid him upon the soft hay. There, Jagienka and Sieciechowa nursed him. Jagienka observed that he could not carry the cup of wine to his lips by himself so she helped him. Immediately after this he fell into a profound sleep, from which he did not awake till the third day.
Meanwhile they sat down to deliberate.
"To be brief," said Jagienka, "we must go now to Spychow instead of Szczytno, so that by all means we place him in security among his own people."
"Look, how can that be carried out," replied Macko. "It is true that we must send him to Spychow, but there is no necessity for all of us to accompany him, one wagon is enough to carry him there."
"I do not order it, I only think so, because there we might get much information from him about Zbyszko, and Danusia."
"But how can you procure information from one who has no tongue?"
"But the very information that he has no tongue, we got from himself. Do you not see that even without speech we got all that information necessary. How much more shall we derive when we communicate with him by motions of the head and hands? Ask him, for instance, whether Zbyszko has returned from Malborg to Szczytno. You will then see that he will either nod assent, or deny it."
"It is true," said the Bohemian.
"I too do not dispute it," said Macko. "I know it myself, but I am accustomed to think first and then talk."
Then he ordered the train to return to the Mazovian frontier. On the way Jagienka visited now and then the wagon where Jurand slept, fearing that death might ensue.
"I did not recognize him," said Macko, "but it is no wonder. He was as strong as an auroch! They said of him that he was among those who could fight with Zawisza, and now he is reduced to a skeleton."
"We are accustomed to hear all sorts of things," said the Bohemian, "but nobody would believe it if they were told that Christians had acted thus with a belted knight, whose patron is also Saint Jerzy."
"God grant that Zbyszko may at least avenge part of his wrongs. Now, look what a difference there is between them and us. It is true, that three out of those four dog-brothers are dead, but they died in fight, and none of them had his tongue or his eyes plucked out in captivity."
"God will punish them," said Jagienka.
But Macko turned to the Bohemian and said:
"How did you recognize him?"
"I did not recognize him at first, although I saw him later than you did. But it struck me, and the more I looked at him the more so… Though when I first saw him he had neither beard nor white hair; he was then a very powerful lord. How then could I recognize him in the old beggar. But when the young lady said that we were going to Szczytno, and he began to howl my eyes were opened at once."
Macko was absorbed in thought, then he said:
"From Spychow, it is necessary to take him to the prince, who will not leave the wrong perpetrated on such an important person, unpunished."
"They will excuse themselves. They treacherously abducted his child and they defended themselves. And as to the lord of Spychow they will say that he lost his tongue, eyes and hand in the fight."
"You are right," said Macko. "They once carried off the prince himself. He cannot fight them, because he is no match for them; perhaps our king will assist him. The people talk and talk of a great war, but here we don't even have a little one."
"He is with Prince Witold."
"Thank God, that at least he thinks that they are worthless. Hey! Prince Witold is my prince! In craftiness he is unsurpassable. He is more crafty than all of them together. Those dog-brothers had him cornered once, the sword was over his head and he was about to perish, but, like a serpent, he slipped from their hands and bit them… Be on your guard when he strikes, but be exceedingly careful when he is patting you."
"Is he so with everybody?"
"He is only so with the Knights of the Cross, but he is a kind and liberal prince with everybody else."
At this Macko pondered, as though making an effort to recall Prince Witold.
"He is an entirely different man to the prince here," he said, suddenly. "Zbyszko ought to have joined him, for under him and through him, one might achieve the most against the Knights of the Cross."
Then he added:
"Both of us might be found there. Who can tell? For it is there where we can revenge ourselves most properly."
Then he spoke of Jurand, of his misfortunes and of the unheard of injuries, inflicted upon him by the Knights of the Cross, who first, without any cause, murdered his beloved wife, then, revenge for revenge, they carried off his child, and then mangled him in such a cruel manner, that even the Tartars could not invent worse torture. Macko and the Bohemian gnashed their teeth at the thought that even when they set him free it was with malicious intent of inflicting additional cruelty in order to frustrate the old knight's intention, who most likely promised himself that when he was free he would take proper steps to make an inquest and get information of the whole affair, and then pay them out with interest.
On the journey to Spychow they passed their time in such dialogues and thoughts. The clear fine day was succeeded by a quiet starry night; they therefore did not halt for night quarters, but stopped thrice to feed the horses. It was yet dark when they passed the frontier, and in the morning, led by the hired guide, they arrived upon the land of Spychow.
There Tolima apparently held everything with an iron hand, for no sooner did they enter the forest of Spychow, than two armed men advanced against them. These, seeing that the newcomers were not soldiers, but a simple train, not only let them pass without questioning, but placed themselves in front to show the way, which was inaccessible to those unacquainted with the moats and marshes.
Tolima and the priest Kaleb received the guests when they arrived in town. The news that the lord had arrived, and was brought back by pious people spread like lightning through the garrison. But when they saw him in the condition as he looked when he left the Knights of the Cross, there was such an outburst of raging and wild threatening that if there had yet been any Knights of the Cross confined in the prison of Spychow, no human power would have been able to save them from a terrible death.
The retainers wished to mount their horses at once and start to the frontier to capture any Germans and cut off their heads and throw them under the feet of the master. But Macko restrained them because he knew that the Germans lived in the towns and cities, whilst the country people were of the same blood, but lived against their own will under foreign superior force. But neither the din and noise nor the creaking of the well-sweeps could awake Jurand, who was carried upon a bearskin into his own house and put to bed. Father Kaleb was Jurand's intimate friend; they grew up together and loved each other like brothers; he remained with him, and prayed that the Redeemer of the world might restore to the unfortunate Jurand, his eyes, tongue, and hand.
The fatigued travelers went to bed also. Macko who awoke about noon, ordered Tolima to be called.
He knew from the Bohemian that Jurand, before his departure, had ordered all his servants to obey their young master, Zbyszko, and that the priest had informed him of his ownership of Spychow. Macko therefore spoke to the old man with the voice of a superior:
"I am the uncle of your young master, and as long as he is away, I am the commander here."
Tolima bowed his grey head, which had something wolfish, and surrounding his ear with his hand, asked:
"Then you are, sir, the noble knight from Bogdaniec?"
"Yes!" replied Macko. "How do you know it?"
"Because the young master Zbyszko expected and inquired after you here."
Hearing this, Macko stood up straight, and forgetting his dignified manner, he exclaimed:
"What, Zbyszko in Spychow?"
"Yes, he was here, sir; only two days ago since he left."
"For the love of God! Whence did he come and where did he go?"
"He came from Malborg, and on the road he was at Szczytno. He did not say where he was going."
"He did not say, eh?"
"May be he told the priest Kaleb."
"Hey! Mighty God, then we crossed each other on the road," he said, putting his hands on his ribs.
But Tolima put his hand to the other ear:
"What did you say, sir?"
"Where is Father Kaleb?"
"He is at the bedside of the old master."
"Call him, but stop … I will go myself to see him."
"I will call him," said Tolima, and he left. But before he brought the priest, Jagienka entered.
"Come here," said Macko. "Do you know the news? Zbyszko was here only two days ago."
Her face changed in a moment and she almost tottered.
"He was, and left?" she asked, with quickly beating heart. "Where to?"
"It is only two days since he left, but where to I do not know. May be the priest knows."
"We must go after him," she said, peremptorily.
After a while Father Kaleb entered. Thinking that Macko wanted him for information concerning Jurand, he anticipated his question by saying:
"He is still asleep."
"I heard that Zbyszko was here?" said Macko.
"He was, but he left two days ago."
"Where to?"
"He did not know himself… Searching… He left for the frontier of Zmudz, where there is war now."
"For the love of God, tell us, father, what you know about him!"
"I only know what I heard from himself. He was at Malborg. May be he obtained protection there. Because with the order of the master's brother, who is the first among the knights, Zbyszko could search in all castles."
"For Jurand and Danuska?"
"Yes; but he does not search for Jurand, because he was told that he was dead."
"Tell us from the beginning."
"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.