burst, his steel helmet cracked like an earthen pot, and the giant fell with his head split in two.
Heinrich, the comtur of Chluhov, that most inveterate enemy of the Polish race, who had sworn that he would have two swords borne in front of him till he plunged both in Polish blood, was rushing from the field stealthily, as a fox slips away when surrounded by a legion of hunters, when Zbyshko of Bogdanets barred the road to him. "Erbarme dich meiner! (Have pity on me!)," cried the comtur, when he saw the sword above his head, and he clasped his hands in terror. The young knight, hearing this, was unable indeed, to withhold his hand and the blow, but he was able to turn his sword and strike only with the side of it, the fat and sweating face of the comtur. He pushed the man then to his attendant, who tied a rope around his neck and took him, like an ox, to the place whither they conducted all captive Knights of the Order.
Old Matsko searched the bloody field for Kuno Lichtenstein, and the fate of that day, for the Poles lucky in everything, gave the man into his hands finally. A handful of Knights of the Cross, fleeing from the dreadful defeat, had secreted themselves in the forest. The sunlight reflected from their armor betrayed their presence to pursuers. All fell on their knees and surrendered immediately, but Matsko, learning that the grand comtur of the Order was among the prisoners, commanded Lichtenstein to stand before him, and removing the helmet from his own head, he inquired,—
"Kuno Lichtenstein, dost thou know me?"
Wrinkling his brows, and fixing his eyes on the face of the old knight, he replied after a while,—
"I saw thee in Plotsk, at the court."
"Not there." answered Matsko; "thou didst see me before that! Thou didst see me in Cracow, when I begged thee for the life of my nephew, who, for an inconsiderate attack on thee was condemned to loss of life. At that time I made a vow to God, and swore on my knightly honor, that I would find thee and meet thee in mortal combat."
"I know," answered Lichtenstein, and he pouted his lips haughtily, though immediately afterward he grew very pale. "But now I am thy prisoner, and thou wouldst disgrace thyself wert thou to raise a sword on me."
