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"I cannot forgive that, but I cannot fight with Mikolaj, because he must be nearly eighty years old."
To this Macko said:
"Listen! It is a pity that you should lose your head; but there will not be a great loss of brains, because you are stupid like a goat."
"Why are you angry?"
Macko did not answer, but started to leave. Zbyszko sprang toward him and said:
"How is Da.n.u.sia? Is she well yet? Don't be angry for a trifle. You have been absent so long!"
Again he bent toward the old man who shrugged his shoulders and said mildly:
"Jurandowna is well, only they will not let her go out of her room yet.
Good-bye!"
Zbyszko remained alone, but he felt as if he had been regenerated. He rejoiced to think that he might be allowed to live three months more. He could go to remote lands; he could find Lichtenstein, and engage in deadly combat with him. Even the thought about that filled him with joy.
He would be fortunate, to be able to ride a horse, even for twelve weeks; to be able to fight and not perish without vengeance. And then--let happen what would happen--it would be a long time anyhow! The king might return and forgive him. War might break out, and the castellan himself when he saw the victor of the proud Lichtenstein, might say: "Go now into the woods and the fields!"
Therefore a great hope entered his heart. He did not think that they would refuse to grant him those three months. He thought that perhaps they would grant hem more. The old _Pan_ of Tenczyn would never admit that a n.o.bleman could not keep his word.
Therefore when Macko came to the prison, the next day toward evening, Zbyszko, who could hardly sit quiet, sprang toward him and asked:
"Granted?"
Macko sat on the truckle-bed, because he could not stand on account of his feebleness; for a while he breathed heavily and finally said:
"The castellan said: 'If you wish to divide your land, or attend to your household, then I will release your nephew for a week or two on his knightly word, but for no longer.'"
Zbyszko was so much surprised, that for a while he could not say a word.
"For two weeks?" asked he, finally. "But I could not even reach the frontier in two weeks! How is it? You did not tell the castellan why I wished to go to Marienburg?"
"Not only I, but the Princess Anna begged for you."
"And what then?"
"What? The old man told her that he did not want your head, and that he pitied you. 'If I could find,' said he, 'some law in his favor, or only a pretext, I would release him altogether; but I cannot. There would be no order in a country in which the people shut their eyes to the law, and acted according to friendship; I will not do it; even if it were Toporczyk, who is a relative of mine, or even my own brother, I would not. Such hard people are here!' And he said still further; 'We do not care about the Knights of the Cross; but we cannot bring reproach on ourselves. What would they think of us, and all our guests, coming from all parts of the world, if I release a n.o.bleman sentenced to death, in order to give him a chance to fight? Would they believe that he will be punished, and that there is some law in our country? I prefer to order one head cut off, than to bring contempt on the king and the kingdom.'
The princess told him that that was strange justice, from which even a king's relative could not obtain anything by her prayer; but the old man answered: 'The king may use clemency; but he will not tolerate lawlessness.' Then they began to quarrel because the princess grew very angry: 'Then,' said she, 'don't keep him in the prison!' And the castellan replied to this: 'Very well! To-morrow I will order a scaffold built on the market square.' Then they departed. Only the Lord Jesus can help you."
There was a long moment of silence.
"What?" he said, gloomily. "Then it will be immediately?"
"In two or three days. There is no help. I have done what I could. I fell at the castellan's knees; I implored him for mercy, but he repeated: 'Find a law, or a pretext.' But what can I find? I went to see the _ksiondz_ Stanislaw of Skarbimierz, and I begged him to come to you. At least you will have this honor, that the same priest who heard the queen's confession will hear yours. But I did not find him home; he had gone to Princess Anna."
"Perhaps for Da.n.u.sia!"
"Not at all. The girl is better. I will go see him to-morrow early in the morning. They say that if he bears one's confession, salvation is as sure as if you had it in your pocket."
Zbyszko put his elbows on his knees and dropped his head so that his hair covered his face entirely. The old man looked at him a long time and finally began to call him softly:
"Zbyszku! Zbyszku!"
The boy raised his head. His face had an expression of anger and of cold hatred, but not of weakness.
"What?"
"Listen carefully; perhaps I have found a way of escape."
Having said this, he approached and began to whisper:
"Have your heard about Prince Witold, who at one time, being imprisoned by our king in Krewo, went out from the prison disguised in a woman's dress. There is no woman who will remain here instead of you, but take my _kubrak_.[57] Take my cowl and go--understand? They will not notice. It is dark behind the door. They will not flash a light into your eyes. They saw me yesterday going out; but they did not look at me closely. Be quiet and listen. They will find me here to-morrow--and what then? Will they cut my head off? That will be no satisfaction, because I will die anyhow in three or four weeks. And you, as soon as you are out of here, to horse, and go straight to Prince Witold. You will present yourself to him; you will bow before him; he will receive you and you will be as safe with him as if you were sitting at G.o.d's right hand. They say here that the _kniaz_'s armies have been defeated by the Tartars, because the late queen prophesied defeat. If it be true, the _kniaz_ will need soldiers and he will welcome you. You must remain with him, because there is no better service in the world. If our king were defeated in a war, it would be his end; but there is such an amount of shrewdness in _Kniaz_ Witold, that after a defeat he grows still more powerful. And he is liberal also, and he loves our family. Tell him everything that happened. Tell him that you wanted to go with him against the Tartars; but you could not because you were imprisoned in the tower. If G.o.d permit, he will give you some land and peasants; he will dub you a knight and he will intercede for you with the king. He is a good protector--you will see!--What?"
Zbyszko listened silently, and Macko, as if he was excited by his own words, spoke further:
"You must not perish young, but return to Bogdaniec. And when you return, you must immediately take a wife so that our family does not perish. Only when you have children, may you challenge Lichtenstein to fight until death; but before that, you must abstain from seeking vengeance. Take my _kubrak_ now, take my cowl and go, in G.o.d's name."
Having said this, Macko stood up and began to undress; but Zbyszko arose also, stopped him and said:
"I will not do it, so help me G.o.d and Holy Cross."
"Why?" asked Macko, astonished.
"Because I will not!"
Macko became pale with anger.
"I wish you had never been born!"
"You told the castellan," said Zbyszko, "that you would give your head in exchange for mine."
"How do you know that?"
"The _Pan_ of Taczew told me."
"What of it?"
"What of it? The castellan told you that disgrace would fall on me and on all my family Would it not be a still greater disgrace, if I escaped from here, and left you to the vengeance of the law?"
"What vengeance? What can the law do to me, when I must die just the same? Have common sense, for G.o.d's mercy!"
"May G.o.d punish me if I abandon you now when you are old and sick. Tfu!
shame!"
There was silence; one could only hear the heavy, hoa.r.s.e breathing of Macko, and the archers' calls.
"Listen," Macko said, finally, in broken tones, "it was not shameful for _Kniaz_ Witold to escape from Krewo; it would not be for you, either."