The Knights of the Cross/Volume 2/Chapter 42

by Henryk Sienkiewicz

CHAPTER XLII.

But she wiped away her tears and told the attendant to follow her and declare the news to Yurand. She found him in a large chamber, sitting with Father Kaleb, Anulka, and old Tolima; a tame she-wolf was at his feet. The sexton, who was also a chorister, was playing on a lute, and singing of some old battle which Yurand had fought against the "foul knights," and they, with heads leaning on their hands, were listening in deep thought and sadness. It was bright in the room from moonlight. After a day almost sultry had come a calm evening which was warm. The windows were open, and in the moonlight one could see bugs, which were flying about in the linden-trees growing in the courtyard. In the chimney a few bits of brands were smouldering yet, at which an attendant was heating mead mixed with sweet herbs and strengthening wine.

The chorister, or rather the sexton and servant of Father Kaleb, had just begun a new song about the "victorious meeting." "Yurand is advancing, under him is his chestnut steed," when Yagenka came in and said,—

"May Jesus Christ be praised!"

"For the ages of ages!" answered Father Kaleb.

Yurand was sitting on a bench with arms, his elbows leaning on the arms; but when he heard Yagenka's voice he turned at once toward her and greeted her with his head, which was milk white.

"Zbyshko's attendant has come from Schytno," said the girl, "and has brought news from the priest. Matsko will not return, for he has gone to Prince Vitold."

"How not return?" inquired Father Kaleb.

Then she told everything which she had heard from Hlava concerning Siegfried; how he had taken vengeance for the death of Rotgier, concerning Danusia, how the old comtur wished to sacrifice her to Rotgier, so that he might drink her innocent blood, and how the executioner had defended her unexpectedly. She did not conceal even this, that Matsko had hope now that he and Zbyshko would find Danusia, free her, and bring her to Spyhov. For this reason precisely he had gone straight to Zbyshko, and commanded them to remain at Spyhov.

Her voice trembled at last as if with sorrow, or sadness, and when she had finished a moment of silence followed. But from the lindens was heard the singing of nightingales, which seemed to beat in through the open window in the manner of a rain shower and fill the room. The eyes of all were turned to Yurand, who, with closed lids and head thrown back, did not give the least sign of life.

"Do you hear?" asked Father Kaleb at last.

He bent his head back still more, raised his left arm, and pointed to the sky.

The light of the moon fell straight on his face, on his white hair, on his eyepits, and there was in his countenance such suffering, and at the same time such a boundless surrender to the will of God, that it seemed to all that they were looking at a soul freed from bodily bonds, a soul which had separated once and forever from earthly life, expected nothing in it, and looked for nothing.

Again followed silence, and again no sound was heard save the trilling of nightingale voices filling the yard and the chamber. But great compassion seized Yagenka on a sudden, and childlike love, as it were, for that hapless old man; so, following her first impulse, she sprang to him, and grasping his hand, fell to kissing it and covering it with tears at the same time.

"I too am an orphan," cried she from the depth of her swollen heart—"I am no young man, I am Yagenka of Zgorzelitse. Matsko took me to keep me from wicked people, but now I will stay with you till God gives you back Danusia."

Yurand did not exhibit the least astonishment, just as if he had known before that she was a girl, but he gathered her in toward him and inclined her to his bosom; while she, continuing to kiss his hand, spoke on in broken and sobbing accents,—

"I will stay with you now, and Danusia will come back. After that I will go to Zgorzelitse. God is above orphans. The Germans killed my father too, but your love will live and come back to you. God the Merciful grant this; grant it also the Most Holy Mother, the Compassionate!"

Then Father Kaleb knelt on a sudden, and called in a solemn voice,—

"Kyrie eleison!"

"Chryste eleison!" responded Hlava and Tolima together.

All knelt down, for they understood that to be a litany repeated not only in time of death, but for the rescue from mortal peril of persons near and dear to us. Yagenka knelt, Yurand dropped from the bench to his knees, and they continued in a chorus,—

"Kyrie eleison! Chryste eleison!—O Father in Heaven, O God, have mercy on us! O Thou Son, the Redeemer, Lord of the world, have mercy on us!"

The voices of people and the imploring words: "Have mercy on us!" were mingled with the trilling of the nightingales.

All at once the tame she-wolf rose from the bearskin lying near Yurand's bench, approached the open window, rested her forepaws on it, and raising her triangular face toward the moon, began to howl in a low, plaintive voice.