THE KNIGHTS OF THE CROSS.
127
"But what am I to do?" inquired Matsko, somewhat testily.
To this Zbyshko said nothing; he merely kissed the mailed right hand of his uncle, then mounted his horse, and rode forward.
Sanderus rode with them. Zbyshko and his uncle knew the road well to the field of battle, but farther Sanderus was to be the guide. They counted also on this,—that they would meet somewhere in the forest local peasants, men hating their lords of the Order; these would help them in tracking the old comtur and Arnold von Baden, of whose unearthly strength and bravery Sanderus had told so much.
