a roaring sound. On the princess, who was not born in a Christian country, every church had thus far produced a deep impression, but that church of Tynets produced it all the more, since in respect of grandeur there were few others to compare with it. Gloom filled the depth of the sanctuary. Only at the high altar were trembling rows of various lights mingled with the glitter of candles, illuminating the gilding and the carving. A monk in full vestments came out with the chalice, bowed to the princess, and began mass. Directly rose the smoke of abundant incense, which, hiding the priest and the altar, went upward in quiet clusters, increasing the mysterious solemnity of the church.
Anna Danuta bent her head backward, and spreading her hands at the height of her face began to pray earnestly. But when the organ—organs were rare in churches at that time—shook the whole nave with majestic thunder, filled it with angeis' voices, scattering as it were the song of the nightingale, the eyes of the princess were uplifted, on her face besides devotion and awe was depicted delight beyond limit, and it might seem to one looking at her that she was some blessed one, gazing at heaven opened in miraculous vision.
Thus prayed the daughter of Keistut, born in paganism. Though in daily life, like all people of that period, she mentioned the name of God in a friendly and intimate manner, in the house of the Lord she raised her eyes in childlike dread, and in subjection to a mysterious and infinite power.
In a like pious manner, though with less awe, did the whole court pray. Zbyshko knelt outside the stalls among the Mazovians, for only the princess and her damsels were inside, and he committed himself to the guardianship of God, and at moments looked at Danusia, who sat with closed eyes near the princess; and he thought that in truth there was worth in becoming the knight of such a maiden, but also that he had promised her no common thing. Under the "jacket" which he had won, he had girded on the hempen rope, but that was only one part of the vow, after which he had to accomplish the other, which was incomparably more difficult. So now, when the wine and beer which he had drunk in the inn had gone from his head, he was troubled in no slight degree as to the manner in which he should accomplish it. There was no war. In the disturbance on the boundary it was indeed easy for him to meet an armed German, break his skull, or lay down his own head. This he
