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THE KNIGHTS OF THE CROSS.

And be urged the saddling of the horses. In fact, when the horses had eaten oats and the people had warmed themselves in the rooms somewhat, they moved on, though it had grown dark out of doors. Since the road before them was long, and there were severe frosts at night, Yurand and Zbyshko, who had not regained all their strength yet, rode in a sleigh. Zbyshko told of his uncle, Matsko, for whom he was yearning in spirit. He grieved, too, that that uncle was not present; for his cunning might be of equal use with his valor, cunning which against such enemies was even more needed than valor. At last he turned to Yurand, and asked,—

"But are you cunning? For I am not able in any way to succeed in that."

"Neither am I," answered Yurand. "It was not with cunning that I warred against them, but with this hand and with the grief that is in me."

"Ah, that I can understand," said the young knight. "I understand because I love Danusia, and they carried her away. If they should—but God preserve—"

And he did not finish; for at the very thought he felt in his breast, not his own, but a wolf's heart. For some time they went forward in silence over the white road filled with moonlight, and then Yurand said as it were to himself,—

"Had they reason for revenge, I should not say anything. But, by the dear God, they have none. I fought with them in the field when I was going on an embassy from our prince to Vitold, but here I lived with them as neighbor with neighbor. Bartosh Nalench seized forty knights who were going to Malborg; he put them in chains and confined them underground in Kozmin. The Knights of the Cross had to pay half a wagon-load of money for them. As to me, when a German guest happened along who was going to the Knights of the Cross, I entertained him as one knight another, and gave him presents. More than once Knights of the Cross came across the swamp to me. I was not harsh to them in those days, and still they did to me that which even to-day I would not do to my greatest enemy."

And terrible recollections rent him with increasing force; the voice died in his breast for a time, then he continued, half groaning,—

"I had one dear lamb, the same to me as the single heart in my breast; they bound her with a rope as they might bind