The Knights of the Cross/Volume 1/Chapter 15

by Henryk Sienkiewicz

CHAPTER XV.

Matsko waited a number of days patiently. Would some news come from Zyh's house? Would the abbot be pacified? At last he was wearied from waiting in uncertainty, and resolved to visit Zyh. Everything that had happened had happened without fault of his, but he wished to know whether Zyh felt offended; as to the abbot, Matsko was convinced that his anger would continue to weigh on him and his nephew.

He wished, however, to do all in his power to soften that anger; hence, on the road he was thinking and fixing in his mind what to say to diminish the feeling of offence and maintain old neighborly friendship. Somehow the thoughts in his head did not cleave to one another; hence, he was glad to find Yagenka alone. She received him in former fashion, with an obeisance, a kissing of the hand, in a word, with friendliness, though with some sadness.

"Is your father at home?" inquired Matsko.

"At home, but he has gone to hunt with the abbot—short waiting till they come."

She conducted him to the chief room, where, when they had sat down, both were silent for some time.

"Is it dull for you alone in Bogdanets?" asked she, breaking the silence.

"Dull," answered Matsko. "Dost thou know that Zbyshko is gone?"

"I know," answered Yagenka, sighing silently. "I knew the same day, and thought that he would come here to say even a kind word; but he came not."

"How was he to come? The abbot would have torn him; and thy father would not have been glad to see him."

"Ei! I would not have let any one harm him," said Yagenka, shaking her head.

At this Matsko, though he had a tempered heart, was moved; he drew the girl toward him, and said,—

"God reward thee, girl! For thee there is sadness; but for me also. I will only tell thee that neither the abbot nor thy own father loves thee more than I. Better I had died from this wound of which thou hast cured me, if he had only taken thee, and not another."

Hereupon came to Yagenka one of those moments of grief and sorrow in which one can make no concealment.

"I shall never see him again, or if I see him it will be with Yurand's daughter, and I would rather cry my eyes out than see them," said she, raising a corner of her apron, and covering her tearful eyes with it.

"Be quiet!" said Matsko. "He has gone; but with God's favor he will not bring Yurand's daughter back with him."

"Why should he not?" asked Yagenka, from under her apron.

"Because Yurand will not give her to him."

Yagenka uncovered her face suddenly, and, turning to Matsko, inquired with vivacity,—

"He told me that, but is it true?"

"True, as God is in heaven."

"But why?"

"Who knows. Some vow, and for a vow there is no remedy! Zbyshko pleased him in so far as he promised to aid him in seeking revenge, but even that did not help. The intercession of Princess Anna was useless. Yurand would not listen to prayer, persuasion, or command. He said that he could not. Well, it is clear that the cause is such that he cannot; and he is a firm man, who does not change what he says. Do not lose courage, girl, and be strong. In truth, the boy had to go, for he swore in the church to get peacock-plumes; the girl, too, covered him with a veil, in sign that she wanted him for husband, without which they would have cut off his head,—for this he is indebted to her; there is nothing to be said on that point. She will not be his, God grant, but according to law he is hers. Zyh is angry with him; the abbot will be sure to take revenge on him till his skin smarts; I am sorry for this affair, too: still, when we look over everything, what was Zbyshko to do? Since he was indebted to that girl, he had to go to her. Besides, he is a noble. I will tell thee this though, that unless the Germans in those parts maim him, he will return as he went,—and will return not only to me, old man, not only to Bogdanets,but to thee, for he is wonderfully glad to see thee."

"Glad to see me?" Then she pushed up to Matsko, and touching him with her elbow, asked,—

"How do you know? How? Surely it is not true."

"How do I know? I saw how pained he was to go. And besides, when it was decided that he must, I asked him: 'Art thou not sorry for Yagenka?' and he answered: 'May God give her health, and all that is best.' He began to sigh then, as if he had the bellows of a blacksmith in his breast."

"Surely not true!" repeated Yagenka, in a low voice; "but tell on."

"As God is dear to me it is true! That other one will not be so pleasant to him after thee, for thou knowest thyself that a firmer and a fairer maiden than thou is not to be found in all the world. He felt the will of God for thee, never fear—perhaps more than thou for him."

"Fear God!" cried Yagenka.

And noting that she had said something impulsively, she covered her face, which was as ruddy again as an apple. Matsko smiled, drew his hand along his moustaches, and said,—

"Ei, if I were young! But be patient, for I see how it will end. He will go, he will get his spurs at the Mazovian court; the boundary is near, and it is easy to find Knights of the Cross. I know that among Germans there are strong men, and that iron does not rebound from his skin, but I think that no common man will be able to meet him, for in battle the rogue is tremendously skilful. See how he knocked down Vilk and Stan in one flash, though people call them strong as bears, and grand fellows. He will bring his plumes, but he will not bring them to Yurand's daughter; for I too have talked with Yurand, and I know how matters are. Well, and what will be afterward? Afterward he will come hither, for whither should he go?"

"When will he come?"

"Well, if thou wait not there will be no feeling against thee. But now repeat to Zyh and the abbot what I tell thee. Let them soften their anger against Zbyshko even a little."

"How am I to explain? Papa is vexed rather than angry, but it is dangerous to speak of Zbyshko in presence of the abbot. He gave it to me, and to papa, because of the man whom I sent to Zbyshko."

"What man?"

"We had a Cheh here, you know, whom papa captured at Boleslavets, a good man and faithful. His name is Hlava, Papa gave him to me as attendant, for the man said that he was a noble in his own country. I gave Hlava good armor, and sent him to attend Zbyshko, to guard him in danger, and, which God forefend!—to inform us (should anything happen). I gave him a purse for the road, and he swore to me by his soul's salvation that till his death he would serve Zbyshko faithfully."

"Oh, thou my girl! May God reward thee! But did Zyh not oppose?"

"Of course he opposed. At first he would not permit this for anything; only when I seized his feet was the victory on my side. There is no trouble with papa, but when the abbot heard of the matter from his buffoons he cursed the whole room-full in one moment, and there was such a day of judgment that papa ran out to the barns. Only in the evening did the abbot take pity on my tears, and give me besides a rosary. But I was willing to suffer, if only Zbyshko had a larger retinue."

"As God is dear to me, I know not which one I love more, Zbyshko or thee, but in every case he had a good retinue—and I gave him money too, though he did not wish to take it. Moreover, Mazovia is not beyond the sea."

Further conversation was interrupted by the barking of dogs, shouts, and the sound of brass trumpets in front of the house. When they heard these Yagenka said,—

"Papa and the abbot are coming from the hunt. Let us go to the porch, for it is better that the abbot should see you first from a distance, and not in the house on a sudden."

Then she conducted Matsko to the porch, from which they saw on the snow in the yard a crowd of men, horses, dogs; also elks and wolves pierced with spears, or with bolts shot from crossbows. The abbot, seeing Matsko before dismounting, hurled a spear toward him, not to strike, it is true, but to show in that way more definitely his resentment against the people of Bogdanets. But Matsko bowed to him from afar, cap in hand, as if he had noticed nothing. Yagenka had not observed this, for she was astonished first of all at the presence of her two suitors in the retinue.

"Stan and Vilk are there!" cried she, " they must have met papa in the forest."

And with Matsko it went so far that something seemed to prick his old wound at sight of them. It passed through his head in a flash that one of the two might get Yagenka, and with her Mochydoly, the lands of the abbot, his forests and his money. Sorrow and rage seized his heart, especially a moment later when he saw something new. Vilk, though the abbot had wished not long before to fight with his father, sprang to the abbot's stirrup to assist him from the horse, and he in dismounting leaned in a friendly manner on the young noble's shoulder.

"The abbot will be reconciled with old Vilk in this way," thought Matsko, "that he will give the forests and the land with the girl." But these bitter thoughts of his were interrupted by Yagenka, who said at that moment,—

"The beating they got from Zbyshko is healed, but though they were to come here every day, nothing will be waiting for them!"

Matsko looked; the girl's face was as ruddy from anger as it was cold, and her blue eyes flashed with rage, though she knew well that Vilk and Stan had stood up for her in the inn, and were beaten because of her.

"But you will do what the abbot commands," said Matsko.

"The abbot will do what I want," said she from where she stood.

"Dear God," thought Matsko, "and that foolish Zbyshko ran away from such a girl!"