"He grew stubborn because we would not beg him on the Tynets road. Of Conrad, the Master, people do not speak ill. Besides, as to losing, thou wilt not lose anything."
"True," said Zbyshko, "but do not bow down low to him."
"How bow down? I carry a letter from Princess Alexandra—nothing more."
"Then if you are so good, may the Lord God assist you." All at once he looked quickly at his uncle, and said: "If the king forgives me, Lichtenstein will be mine, not yours. Remember."
"Thy head is not sure; make no promises. Thou hast had enough of those stupid vows," said the old man, in anger.
Then they threw themselves into each other's arms—and Zbyshko remained alone. Hope and uncertainty in turn shook his soul, but when night came, and with it a storm in the sky, when the barred windows were illuminated with the ominous blaze of lightning, and the walls quivered from thunder, when at last the whirlwind struck the tower with its whistle, and the dim candle went out at his bedside, Zbyshko, sunk in darkness, lost every hope again, and the whole night he could not close his eyes for a moment.
"I shall not escape death," thought he, "and nothing will help me in any way."
But next morning the worthy Princess Anna came to visit him, and with her Danusia, having a lute at her girdle. Zbyshko fell at the feet of one and then the other; though he was suffering after the sleepless night, in misfortune and uncertainty, he did not so far forget the duty of a knight as not to show Danusia his astonishment at her beauty. But the princess raised to him eyes full of sadness.
"Do not admire her," said she, "for if Matsko brings back no good answer, or if he does not return at all, poor fellow, thou wilt soon admire something better in heaven."
Then she shed tears, thinking of the uncertain lot of the young knight, and Danusia accompanied her forthwith. Zbyshko bent again to their feet, for his heart grew as soft as heated wax at those tears. He did not love Danusia as a man loves a woman, but he felt that he loved her with all his soul, and at sight of her something took place in his breast, as if there were in it another man, less harsh, less impulsive, breathing war less, and at the same time thirsting for sweet love. Finally, immense sorrow seized him because he would
