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CHAPTER LV. Two horsemen were riding toward the boundary of Spyhov in the wind, and in rain which at moments became a downpour. These two were Tolima and Siegfried. Tolima was conducting the German lest the peasant guards, or the servants at Spyhov, who were burning with terrible hatred and desire of revenge, might slay him on the road. Siegfried rode without weapons, but unbound. The rain driven by wind was already on them. Now and then when an unexpected thunderclap came, the horses rose on their haunches. The two men rode in silence along a deep valley; often they were so near each other, because of the narrow road, that stirrup struck stirrup. Tolima, accustomed for years to guard captives, looked from moment to moment at Siegfried with watchful eye even then, as if for him it were a question that the captive should not rush away unexpectedly; and each time a quiver passed through him, for it seemed to the old man that the knight's eyes were glittering in the darkness like the eyes of a vampire or an evil spirit. He even thought of making the sign of the cross on him, but remembering that under the sign of the cross he might howl with a voice that was not human, then change, and gnash his teeth, a still greater fear possessed him. The old warrior, who could strike alone on a whole crowd of Germans, as a falcon strikes partridges, was afraid of unclean powers, and had no wish to deal with them. He would have preferred simply to show the road to the German and return, but he was ashamed of himself for this thought, and conducted Siegfried to the boundary. There, when they reached the edge of the Spyhov forest, an interval in the rain came, and the clouds were brightened by a certain strange yellow light. It grew clearer, and Siegfried's eyes lost their former unearthly gleam. But then another temptation attacked Tolima. "They commanded me," said he to himself, "to conduct to the boundary this mad dog in the greatest security; I have conducted him, but is he to go away untouched by vengeance or punishment, this torturer of my lord and his child? Would it not be a worthy deed and dear to God to destroy him? Ei! I should like to challenge him to the death. We have no weapons, it is true, but five miles from here, in my lord's house at Vartsimov, they will give the wretch a sword, or an axe, and I will fight with him. God grant me victory and then I will cut him up, as is proper, and bury his head in a dung heap!" So spoke Tolima to himself, and, looking greedily at the German, he moved his nostrils, as if catching the odor of fresh blood. And he was forced to struggle with his desire grievously, to fight with himself sternly, till, remembering that Yurand had granted the prisoner life and freedom, not to the boundary merely, but beyond it, and that if he should slay him the holy act of his lord would be defeated, and the reward for it in heaven be decreased, he overcame himself at last, reined in his horse, and said,— "Here is our boundary, and to yours it is not distant. Go in freedom; if remorse does not choke thee, and God's thunderbolts do not strike, nothing threatens thee from people!" Then Tolima turned about, and Siegfried rode on with a certain wild petrifaction in his face, without answering a word, and as if not hearing that any one had spoken. He went on by a road now wider, and was as if sunk in a dream. The cessation in the storm was brief, and the clearness of short duration. It grew so dark again that one might have thought that the gloom of night had fallen on the world. The clouds sank almost to the tops of the pinetrees. From above came an ominous growl, and as it were an impatient hiss and the quarrelling of thunders which the angel of the storm was restraining yet. But lightning illuminated from moment to moment with a blinding glitter the awful sky and the terrified earth, and then was to be seen a broad road lying between two black walls of forest; advancing along the middle of that road, was a lone man on horseback. Siegfried rode forward half conscious, devoured by fever. Despair was eating his soul from the time of Rotgier's death; the crimes which he had committed through revenge, the remorse, the terrifying visions, the tortures of his soul had dimmed his mind for a time to such a degree that only with the greatest effort did he defend himself from madness, and even at moments he gave way to it. Recently the toils of the journey, under the firm hand of Hlava, the night passed in the prison of Spyhov, and the uncertainty of his fate, but above all that unheard-of act of favor and mercy which was almost superhuman, and which simply terrified him,—all these rent the old knight to the last degree. At times thought became torpid and dead in him, so that he lost power of seeing what was happening to him; but again fever roused him, and there rose in the man at once a certain dull feeling of despair, of loss, of ruin,—a feeling that all was now quenched, ended, gone, that a limit of some sort had been reached, that around him was naught but night and nothingness, and, as it were, a kind of ghastly pit filled with terror, to which he must go in every case. "Go! go!" whispered suddenly some voice at his ear. He looked around, and saw Death, in the form of a skeleton sitting on a skeleton horse, pushing along at his side there, and rattling his bones. "Art thou here?" asked the Knight of the Cross. "I am. Go on! go on!" And at that moment Siegfried saw that he had a companion on the other side also; stirrup to stirrup with him was riding some kind of thing with a body like that of a man, but with a face that was not human, for the thing had a beast's head with ears standing erect, long, pointed, and covered with black hair. "Who art thou?" cried Siegfried. But that thing, instead of an answer, showed its teeth, and growled deeply. Siegfried closed his eyes, but immediately he heard a louder rattle of bones, and a voice speaking into his very ear. "It is time! it is time! hurry! go on!" And he answered, "I go." But that answer came from his breast as if some one else had given it. Then, as if pushed by some irresistible force from outside, he dismounted, and removed from his horse the high saddle of a knight, and then the bridle. His companions dismounted also, but did not leave him for the twinkle of an eye; they led him from the middle of the road to the edge of the forest. There the black vampire bent down a limb and then helped him to fasten the reins of the bridle to it. "Hurry!" whispered Death. "Hurry!" whispered certain voices from the tree tops. Siegfried, as it were sunk in sleep, drew the second rein through the buckle, made a halter, and standing on the saddle, which he had placed under the tree, put the halter around his neck. "Push away the saddle!—It is done! Aa!" The saddle pushed by his foot rolled some steps away, and the body of the ill-fated knight hung heavily. For a flash it seemed to him that he heard some hoarse, repressed roar, that the ghastly vampire rushed at him, shook him, and tore his breast with its teeth, so as to bite the heart in him. But afterward his quenching eyes saw something else: Death dissolved into a kind of white cloud there before him, pushed up to him slowly, embraced, surrounded, enveloped him, and finally covered everything with a ghastly, impenetrable curtain. At that moment the storm grew wild with immeasurable fury. A thunderbolt struck with an awful explosion in the middle of the road, as if the earth had sunk in its foundations. The whole forest bent under a whirlwind. The roar, the whistle, the noise, the crashing of tree-trunks, and the crack of breaking limbs filled the depth of the forest. Torrents of rain, driven by wind, hid the light, and only during brief bloody lightning-flashes was the corpse of Siegfried visible, whirling wildly above the road. Next morning a rather numerous escort advanced along that same road. At the head of it rode Yagenka with Anulka and Hlava; behind them were wagons conducted by four attendants armed with swords and crossbows. Each of the drivers had at his side also a spear and an axe, not counting forks and other weapons useful on journeys. These were needful both in defence against wild beasts and robber bands, which raged always along the boundaries of the Order. Against these it was that Yagello complained bitterly to the Grand Master, both in letters and personally in the meetings at Ratsiondzek. But having trained men and defensive weapons, one might be free of fear. The escort advanced, therefore, with self-confidence and boldly. After the storm came a marvellous day, fresh, calm, and so clear that where there was no shade the eyes of the travellers blinked from excess of light. Not a leaf moved on the trees, and from each leaf hung great drops of rain which glittered with rainbow colors in the sun. Amid the needle-like leaves of the pine, these drops glistened like great diamonds. The downpour of rain had formed on the road little streams which flowed toward lower places with a gladsome murmur, and formed shallow pools in depressions. The whole region was irrigated, wet, but smiling in the clearness of morning. On such mornings delight seizes man's heart, so the drivers and attendants sang to themselves in low voices, wondering at the silence which reigned among those who were riding before them. They were silent, for sorrow had settled down in Yagenka's soul. In her life something had come to an end, something was broken; and the girl, though not greatly used to meditation, and unable to explain to herself clearly what was happening in her mind and what appeared to her, still felt that everything by which she had lived up to that time had failed her, and gone for nothing; that every hope in her had been dissipated, as the morning mist is blown apart on the fields, that she must renounce everything, abandon everything, forget everything, and begin life anew. She thought too that though by the will of God the future would not be altogether bad, still it could not be other than sad, and in no case so good as that might have been which had just ended. And her heart was pressed by immense sorrow for that past which was now closed forever, and the sorrow rose in a stream of tears to her eyes. But she would not let those tears come, for, in addition to the whole burden which weighed down her soul, she felt shame. She would have preferred never to have left Zgorzelitse rather than return as she was returning then from Spyhov. She had not gone there merely to deprive Stan and Vilk of a reason for attacking Zgorzelitse; this she could not hide from herself. No! This was known also to Matsko, who had not taken her for that reason either, and it would be known surely to Zbyshko. At the latter thought her cheeks burned, bitterness filled her heart. "I was not haughty enough for thee," said she in spirit, "and now I have received what I worked for." And to anxiety, uncertainty of the morrow, regretful sadness and undying sorrow for the past, was joined humiliation. But the further course of her grievous thoughts was interrupted by some man hurrying to meet them. Hlava, who kept a watchful eye on everything, spurred his horse toward the man, and from the crossbow on his shoulder, his badgerskin bag, and the feathers on his cap, recognized a forester. "Hei, but who art thou? Halt!" cried he, to make sure. The man approached quickly, his face full of emotion, as men's faces are usually when they wish to announce something uncommon. "There is a man," cried he, "hanging on the road before you!" Hlava was alarmed lest that might be the work of robbers, and inquired quickly,— "Is it far from here?" "The shot of a crossbow—at the very road." "Is no one with him?" "No, no one; but I frightened away a wolf which was sniffing him." The mention of a wolf pacified Hlava, for it showed that there were no people near by, nor any ambush. Meanwhile Yagenka said,— "See what it is!" Hlava galloped forward and after a while returned still more quickly. "Siegfried is hanged!" cried he, reining in his horse before Yagenka. "In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Spirit! Siegfried? The Knight of the Cross?" "The Knight of the Cross. He hanged himself with the bridle." "Hanged himself?" "It is evident that he did, for the saddle is lying near him. If robbers had done the deed they would have killed the man simply, and taken the saddle, for it is of value." "How shall we pass?" "Let us not go that way! let us not go!" cried Anulka, in fear. "Something will catch us." Yagenka too was frightened a little, for she believed that foul spirits gathered in great crowds around bodies of suicides. But Hlava was daring and felt no fear. "Oh," said he, "I was near him and even pushed him with a lance, and still I feel no devil on my shoulder." "Do not blaspheme!" called Yagenka. "I am not blaspheming," answered Hlava, "but I trust in the power of God. Still, if you are afraid we can go around through the forest." Anulka begged them to go around, but Yagenka thought a while, and said,— "Ei, it is not proper to leave a corpse unburied. Burial is a Christian act enjoined by the Lord Jesus. Siegfried was a man in every case." "True; but a Knight of the Cross, an executioner who hanged himself! Let crows and wolves work at him." "Do not say idle words. God will judge him for his sins, but let us do our part. No evil will attach to us if we carry out a pious command." "Let it be as you wish," answered Hlava. And he gave needful orders to the attendants, who obeyed with disgust and hesitation. But fearing Hlava, with whom dispute was dangerous, they took, in the absence of spades, forks and axes to make a hole in the earth, and went to work. Hlava went with them to give an example, and when he had made a sign of the cross he cut with his own hands the strap by which the corpse was hanging. Siegfried's face had grown blue in the air and was ghastly, for his eyes were not closed and they had a terrified expression. His mouth was open as if to catch the last breath. They dug a depression there at his side quickly, and with fork-handles stuffed the body into it, face downward. After they had covered it the attendants sought stones, for the custom was from time immemorial to cover suicides with stones, otherwise they would rise at night and waylay travellers. There were stones enough on the road and among the mosses of the forest. So there soon rose above the Knight of the Cross a tomb, and then Hlava cut out with an axe, on the trunk of the pine-tree, a cross,—which he made, not for Siegfried, but to prevent evil spirits from assembling on that spot,—and then he returned to the company. "His soul is in hell, but his body is in the earth," said he to Yagenka;" now we may go." And they moved forward. But Yagenka when riding past broke a twig from the pine-tree and threw it on the stones. Following the example of their lady, all the others did in like manner, for custom commanded that also. They rode on a long time in thoughtfulness, thinking of that evil enemy the Knight of the Cross, and the punishment which had overtaken him, till at last Yagenka said,— "The justice of God does not spare, and it is not proper to say even 'eternal rest,' for that man, since there is no rest for him." "You have a compassionate heart, since you commanded to bury him," answered Hlava. And then he added with a certain hesitation: "People say—well not people perhaps, only wizards and witches—that a rope, or a strap even, on which a man has hanged himself gives luck in all things; but I did not take the strap from Siegfried's neck because for you I expect happiness, not from enchantment, but from the power of the Lord Jesus." Yagenka made no answer at the moment, and only after a while, when she had sighed a number of times, did she say, as if to herself,— "Ei! My happiness is behind, not before me!"
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