care of Schaumberg and Markwart," replied the sister, with emphasis.
"Bandits, poisoners, hangmen!" burst out Yurand.
"Who will be able to avenge us, and who told us at parting: 'If all our commands are not complied with, it would be better that the girl died as did the children of Vitold.' Take your choice!"
"And remember that you are in the power of the comturs," added the pilgrim. "They have no wish to wrong you, and the starosta of Schytno sends word by us that you will be free to go from his castle; but they wish you to come to bow down before the mantle of the knights, and beg the favor of the conquerors in return for what you have done to them. They wish to forgive you, but they wish first to bend your proud neck. You have denounced them as traitors and oath-breakers, so they wish you to give yourself up on faith in them. They will return freedom to you and your daughter, but you must beg for it. You have trampled them; you must swear that your hand will never rise again in hostility to the white mantle."
"So wish the comturs," added the woman, "and with them Schaumberg and Markwart."
A moment of deathlike silence followed. It seemed only that somewhere among the beams of the ceiling some muffled echo repeated, as if in terror: "Schaumberg, Markwart." From outside the window came also the cries of Yurand's archers watching on the bastions of the wall.
The pilgrim and the sister of the Order looked for a long time, now at each other, now at Yurand, who sat leaning against the wall motionless, and with face sunk in the shadow falling on it from a bundle of skins hung at the side of the window. In his head there remained one thought alone, that if he would not do the knights' will, they would strangle his daughter; if he should do their will, even then, perhaps, he would not save either himself or Danusia. And he saw no help, no escape. He felt above him a merciless superiority of power which was crushing him. He saw in spirit already the iron hands of the knights on the neck of Danusia; for, knowing them, he doubted not for an instant that they would kill her, cover her up in the ditch of the castle, and then deny, swear themselves out of it. Who would be able then to prove that they had kidnapped her? Yurand had, it is true, the messengers in his hands; he might take them to the prince to obtain a confession through torture, but the knights had
