The Knights of the Cross Part 74

Jurand's face exhibited great alarm. At the first moment it seemed to him quite natural that the knights required secrecy, fearing responsibility and disgrace, but now a suspicion arose in his mind that there might be another reason, but, not being able to account for it, he was seized with such terror as sometimes happens to the most courageous when danger does not threaten them alone, but also their relatives and loved ones.

He determined however to find out more from the Order's servant.

"The knights wish secrecy," he said, "but how can it be kept, when I release von Bergow and the others in return for my child?"

"You will say that you accepted ransom for von Bergow in order to be able to pay the robbers."

"People will not believe it, because I never accepted ransom," gloomily replied Jurand.

"But your child was never in question," hissed the messenger in reply.

And again silence followed, after which the _pontnik_, who, in the meanwhile had gained courage, and judged that Jurand must now restrain himself more, said:

"Such is the will of the brethren s...o...b..rg and Markward."

The messenger continued:

"You will say, that this _pontnik_ who came with me, brought you the ransom, we also will leave here with the n.o.ble von Bergow and the prisoners."

"How so?" said Jurand, frowning, "do you think that I will give up the prisoners before you return my child?"

"You can act, sir, still differently. You can call personally for your daughter at Szczytno, whither the brethren will bring her to you."

"I? at Szczytno?"

"Because, should the bandits capture her again on the way, your and your people's suspicion would again fall upon the pious knights, and therefore they prefer to give her into your own hands."

"And who will pledge himself for my return, if I walk alone into a wolf's throat?"

"The virtue of the brethren, their justice and G.o.dliness!"

Jurand began to walk up and down the room. He began to suspect treason and feared it, but he felt at the same time that the Teutons could impose any conditions they pleased upon him, and that he was powerless before them.

However, an idea struck him, and suddenly halting before the _pontnik_, he gazed at him with a piercing look, and then turned to the messenger and said;

"Well, I will go to Szczytno. You and this man, who is wearing _pontnik_ garb, will remain here until my return, after which you will leave with von Bergow and the prisoners."

"Do you refuse, sir, to believe friars." said the _pontnik_; "how then can they trust you to liberate us and von Bergow on your return?"

Jurand's face turned pale with fury, and a critical moment followed, in which it almost seemed that he would catch the _pontnik_ by the throat and dash him to the floor; but he suppressed his anger, drew a deep breath and commenced to speak slowly but emphatically.

"Whoever you are, do not strain my patience to the breaking point!"

But the _pontnik_ turned to the sister: "Speak! what you were ordered."

"Lord," she said: "we would not dare distrust your oath upon your sword and knightly honor, but it is not proper for you to swear before people of low rank. And we were not sent for your oath."

"What were you sent for?"

"The brethren told us that, without saying anything to anybody, you must appear at Szczytno with von Bergow and the prisoners."

At that, Jurand's shoulders began to draw together, and his fingers to extend like the claws of a bird of prey; at last, stopping before the woman, he bent down, as if to speak into her ear, and said:

"Did they not tell you that I should order you and von Bergow to be broken on the wheel in Spychow?"

"Your daughter is in the power of the brethren, and under the care of s...o...b..rg and Markward," replied the sister, meaningly.

"Robbers, poisoners, hangmen!" burst forth Jurand.

"Who are able to avenge us and who said at our departure: 'Should he not comply with all our orders, it would be far better that the girl should die, as Witold's children died.' Choose!"

"And understand that you are in the power of the knights," remarked the _pontnik_. "They do not wish to do you any harm, and the _starosta_ of Szczytno sends you his word by us that you shall go free from his castle; but they want you, for the wrong done to them, to present your respects to the Teuton, and beg for the victor's mercy. They want to forgive you, but they first wish to bend your stubborn neck. You denounced them as traitors and perjurers.--therefore they want you to acknowledge their good faith. They will restore you and your daughter to liberty--but you must beg for it. You trampled upon them--now you must swear that your hand will never, be raised against the white robe."

"The knights wish it so," added the woman, "and Markward and s...o...b..rg with them."

A moment of deathlike silence followed. It seemed only that somewhere among the beams of the ceiling some smothered echo repeated as if in terror: "Markward ... s...o...b..rg."

Outside the windows could be heard the voices of Jurand's archers keeping watch on the mounds near the palisade of the castle.

The _pontnik_ and the servant of the Order looked for a long time at each other and Jurand, who sat leaning against the wall, motionless, and with a face deeply shadowed by furs suspended by the window. His brain contained only one thought, that, if he did not do what the Teutons demanded, they would destroy his child; again, if he should do it, he might perhaps even then not save Da.n.u.sia nor himself. And he saw no help, no way of escape. He felt a pitiless superior force over him which was crus.h.i.+ng him. He saw in his soul already the iron hands of a Teuton on Da.n.u.sia's throat; knowing them thoroughly, he did not doubt for a moment that they would kill her, bury her in the castle yard, and then deny it,--and who would then be able to prove that they had captured her?

It was true that Jurand had the messengers in his power; he could bring them to the prince and get a confession by means of torture, but the Teutons had Da.n.u.sia, and they might not care about their agents' torture.

And for a moment he seemed to see his child stretching out her hands from afar, asking for a.s.sistance.... If he at least knew that she was really at Szczytno, then he could go that very night to the border, attack the unsuspecting Germans, capture the castle, destroy the garrison and liberate the child--but she might not be and positively was not in Szczytno. It flashed like lightning through his head, that if he were to seize the woman and the _pontnik_, and take them directly to the grand master, then perhaps the master could draw confessions from them and might order the return of his daughter; but that gleam was extinguished almost as quickly as it took fire.

These people could tell the master that they came to ransom von Bergow and that they knew nothing about a girl. No! that way led to nothing, but what did? He thought, that should he go to Szczytno they would chain him and cast him under ground, while Da.n.u.sia would not be released, lest it should transpire that they had captured her, if for no other reason. And meanwhile death hung over his only child, death over the last dear head!... And finally his thoughts grew confused, and the pain became so great, that it overpowered itself and became numbness. He sat motionless, for his body became as dead as if cut out of stone. If he wanted to rise now, he would not be able to do so.

Meanwhile the others grew tired of the long waiting, therefore the servant of the Order arose and said:

"It will be soon daylight, therefore permit us, sir, to retire, because we need a rest."

"And refreshment after the long journey," added the _pontnik_. Then they both bowed to Jurand and went out.

But he continued to sit motionless, as if seized by sleep or death.

Presently, however, the door opened and Zbyszko appeared, followed by the priest Kaleb.

"Who are the messengers? What do they want?" inquired the young knight, approaching Jurand.

Jurand quivered, but at first answered nothing; he only began to blink like a man awakened from a sound sleep.

"Sir, are you not ill?" said the priest Kaleb, who, knowing Jurand better, noticed that something curious was taking place within him.

"No!" replied Jurand.

"And Da.n.u.sia?" further inquired Zbyszko; "where is she and what did they say to you?"

"What did they bring?"

"The ransom," slowly replied Jurand.