The lord of Tachev, stern and stubborn in time of war, had a real dovelike heart in his mighty breast ; since he knew better than others what was waiting for the offender, pity for the youth seized the knight.
"I am meditating and meditating," said he to the princess, "whether to tell the king what has happened, or not tell him. If the German knight does not complain, there will be no case, but it he is to complain it would be better to tell earlier, so that our lord should not flame up in sudden anger."
"If the Knight of the Cross can ruin any man, he will ruin him," said the princess. "But I first of all will tell the young man to join our court. Perhaps the king will not punish a courtier of ours so severely."
Then she called Zbyshko, who, learning what the question was, sprang from his horse, seized her feet, and with the utmost delight agreed to be her attendant, not only because of greater safety, but because he could in that way remain near Danusia.
"Where are you to lodge?" asked Povala of Matsko.
"In an inn."
"There is no room in the inns this long time."
"Then I will go to a merchant, an acquaintance, Amyley, Perhaps he will shelter us for the night."
"But I say to you, come as guests to me. Your nephew might lodge in the castle with the courtiers of the princess, but it will be better for him not to be under the hand of the king. What the king would do in his first anger, he would not do in his second. It is certain also that you will divide your property, wagons, and servants, and to do that, time is needed. With me, as it is known to you, you will be safe and comfortable."
Matsko, though troubled a little that Povala was thinking so much of their safety, thanked him with gratitude, and they entered the city. But there he and Zbyshko forgot again for a time their troubles at sight of the wonders surrounding them. In Lithuania and on the boundary they had seen only single castles, and of more considerable towns only Vilno,—badly built, and burnt, all in ashes and ruins. In Cracow the stone houses of merchants were often more splendid than the castle of the Grand Prince in Lithuania. Many houses were of wood, it is true, but many of those astonished the beholder by the loftiness of the walls and the roofs, with windows of glass, the panes fitted into lead sashes, panes which so reflected the rays of the setting sun
