armor over a horse, that they pulled ropes, fought with swords and leaden-edged axes, and finally that they feasted, and sang songs. Zbyshko desired with his whole heart and soul to fly to them, and when he learned that immediately after the christening Zavisha would go far away somewhere to Lower Hungary against the Turks, he could not restrain himself from weeping.
"They might let me go with him! and let me lay down my life against pagans."
But that could not be. Meanwhile something else took place: The two Mazovian princesses continued to think of Zbyshko, who interested them with his youth and beauty; finally Princess Alexandra resolved to send a letter to the Grand Master. The Master could not, it is true, change the sentence pronounced by the castellan, but he could intercede for Zbyshko before the king. It was not proper for Yagello to grant pardon, since the question was of an attack on an envoy; it seemed, however, undoubted that he would be glad to grant it at the intercession of the Grand Master. Hence hope entered the hearts of both ladies anew. Princess Alexandra herself, having a weakness for the polished Knights of the Cross, was uncommonly esteemed by them. More than once rich gifts went to her from Malborg, and letters in which the Master declared her venerated, saintly, a benefactress, and special patroness of the Order. Her words might effect much, and it was very likely that they would not meet a refusal. The only question was to find a courier who would show all diligence in delivering the letter at the earliest, and in returning with an answer. When he heard of this, old Matsko undertook the task without hesitation.
The castellan, on being petitioned, appointed a time up to which he promised to restrain the execution of the sentence. Matsko, full of consolation, busied himself that very day with his departure; later he went to Zbyshko to announce the happy tidings.
At the first moment Zbyshko burst out in great delight, as if the doors of the prison were open before him already; later, however, he grew thoughtful, and soon he became sad and gloomy.
"Who can receive any good from Germans? Lichtenstein might have asked the king for pardon,—and he would have done well, for he would have guarded himself from revenge, but he would not do anything."
