Arnold von Baden was a simple soldier whose highest merit was the giant strength of his arm; he was dull enough, not loving money, and wellnigh honest. There was no cunning of the Order in that man, hence he did not hide from Zbyshko why he was willing to decrease the ransom. "It will not come," said he, "to negotiations between the great king and the Master, but it will to exchange of prisoners, and then thou wilt take thy uncle for nothing. I prefer to get a part rather than nothing, for my purse is ever slender, and often can stand hardly three tankards of beer a day, while I suffer when I have less than five or six of them."
Zbyshko was angered by these words. "I pay," said he, "because I gave my knightly word; I will pay no less than what I promised, so thou mayst know that we have that much value." Thereupon Arnold embraced him, while the Polish knights and those of the Order gave praise, saying: "Justly dost thou wear a belt and spurs while so young, for thou knowest dignity and honor."
Meanwhile the king and the Grand Master arranged indeed for exchanging prisoners, whereupon strange things came to light which caused bishops and dignitaries of the kingdom to write letters afterward to the Pope and to various courts in Europe. In the hands of the Poles there were, it is true, many prisoners, but these were grown men in the bloom of life, captured with armed hand in battles and engagements on the boundary; while in the hands of the Knights of the Cross were found mainly women and children seized during night attacks and held for ransom. The Pope himself turned attention to this; and despite the acuteness of Johann von Felde, the procurator of the Order at the Holy See, he gave in public expression to his indignation and his anger.
There were difficulties as to Matsko. The Master did not make them seriously, but only in appearance, so as to add weight to each concession. He declared, therefore, that a Christian knight, who had fought side by side with the Jmud men, should in justice suffer death. In vain did the king's counsellors bring up anew all that was known to them of Yurand and his daughter, and the terrible wrong inflicted on them and on the knights of Bogdanets by the servants of the Order. Through a strange chance the Master in his answer used words employed by the Princess Alexandra when speaking to the old knight of Bogdanets,—
"Ye call yourselves lambs and our people wolves, but of
