"Do you understand what we say?" asked Yagenka.
He confirmed with his head.
"Are you from this place?"
"No," answered the old man with signs.
"Then you may be from Mazovia?"
"Yes."
"From the dominions of Prince Yanush?"
"Yes."
"And what were you doing with the Knights of the Cross?"
The old man could not answer, but his face assumed in one moment an expression of such immense pain that the compassionate heart of Yagenka quivered with the greater sympathy, and even Matsko, though no small thing could move him, said,—
"Surely the dog brothers have done him evil, and perhaps without fault on his part."
Yagenka pressed into the palm of the poor man some small money.
"Listen," said she, "I will not leave you. You will go with us to Mazovia, and in every village we will ask if that is not your place. Maybe we shall talk the way to it somehow. And stand up now, for we are not saints."
But he did not rise; on the contrary he inclined and embraced her feet, as if giving himself into her protection, and returning thanks; but at the same time a certain astonishment, and even, as it were, disappointment, shot over his face. Perhaps it was that while taking note of her voice he had thought himself standing before a young girl, while now his hand touched rough leggings such as knights and attendants wore while on journeys.
But she said,—
"This is what we will do. Our wagons will come soon; you can rest and gain strength. But you will not go at once to Mazovia, for we must go first to Schytno."
At this word the old man sprang to his feet. Dread and astonishment were expressed on his face. He opened his arms as if to bar the way, and from his mouth came wild sounds, as if he were filled with terror.
"What is the matter?" cried Yagenka, with alarm.
But Hlava, who had now come up with Anulka, and who for some time had been looking fixedly at the old man, turned quickly to Matsko with a changed face, and said in a voice full of astonishment,—
