The Knights of the Cross/Volume 2/Chapter 37
|
CHAPTER XXXVII. Matsko was preparing for his journey, and Yagenka did not show herself in Bogdanets for two days; this time she spent in counselling with Hlava. The old man met her on the third day while going to church. She was on the way to Kresnia with her brother and a considerable number of armed attendants, for she was not sure that Vilk and Stan kept the bed yet and might not make an attack on her. "I wanted to call at Bogdanets after mass," said she, greeting Matsko, "for with you I have urgent business, but we can talk of it now." Then she rode out in front of the retinue, not wishing evidently that the young men should hear their words. "Then are you going surely?" asked she, when Matsko was near her. "Yes. To-morrow, with God's help, not later." "And to Malborg?" "To Malborg, or no, whithersoever it happens." "Then listen to me. I have thought long over what I should do, and now I wish to ask advice of you. Formerly, you know, when father was living, and the abbot had strength in him, it was different. Besides, Stan and Vilk thought that I would choose one of them, and they restrained each other. But now I shall be defenceless; I shall be in Zgorzelitse as behind a palisade, as in a prison, for surely I shall suffer wrong from those two. Say yourself, is this true or not?" "It is true; I also have thought of it." "And what have you thought out?" "Nothing; but I must say that this is a Polish country, and punishments of the law for violence to a maiden are terrible." "That seems well, but 'tis not difficult to spring over the boundary. I know too that Silesia is a Polish country; still the princes quarrel and attack one another. Were it not for that my dear father would be living. The Germans have got in there; they rouse disturbance and commit wrongs, so that he who wants to hide among them hides. Surely I should not give up easily to either Vilk or Stan, but I am anxious also for my brothers. If I am not here there will be peace, but if I stay God knows what will happen. There will be attacks and battles. Yasko is fourteen years old, and no power, not to mention mine, can restrain him. The last time, when you hurried to help us, he rushed to the front. Stan struck into the crowd with his club, and barely missed Yasko's head. Yasko told the servants that he would challenge both those fellows to trampled earth. I tell you there will not be a day's peace, and something evil may happen Yasko and the other." "Oh, Stan and Vilk are dog brothers," said Matsko with vehemence, "but they will not raise hands on children. Tfu! only Knights of the Cross would do that." "They will not raise hands on children, but in an uproar, or, God preserve, at a fire, accidents are easy. What is the use of talking! Old Setsehova loves my brothers as if they were her own children, so care and guardianship will not be lacking them; but without me it would be safer far than with my presence." "Perhaps so," said Matsko. Then he looked quickly at the girl. "What dost thou wish?" "Take me with you," answered Yagenka with a lowered voice. At this Matsko, though it was not difficult for him before to divine the end of the conversation, was astonished greatly; he stopped his horse, and cried,— "Fear God! Yagenka." She dropped her head, and said as if with timidity, and sadness,— "Well, I choose to speak sincerely rather than hide my thoughts. Both you and Hlava say that Zbyshko will never find that other one, and Hlava expects still worse. God is my witness that I wish her no evil. May the Mother of God preserve and guard her, the poor thing. She was dearer than I to Zbyshko, but there is no help for that! Such is my fate. But you see until Zbyshko finds her, or if, as you think, he never finds her, then—then—" "Then what?" inquired Matsko, seeing that the girl was becoming more and more confused and halting. "Then I do not wish to be Stan's or Vilk's, or any one's." "I thought that thou hadst seen the man already," said Matsko, drawing breath with satisfaction. "Ei," answered she, still more sadly. "Then what dost thou wish? How could I take thee among the Knights of the Cross?" "Not necessarily among the Knights of the Cross. I should like to go now to the abbot, who is cast down with sickness in Sieradz. He has no loving soul there near him, but he is my godfather and benefactor. Were he well I should seek his protection, for people fear him." "I shall not oppose that," said Matsko, who at the root of the matter was rejoiced at Yagenka's decision, for knowing the Knights of the Cross he believed profoundly that Danusia would not escape their hands alive. "I will only say this to thee, that there is terrible trouble with a girl on the road." "There might be with another, but not with me. I have never fought yet, but it is no new thing for me to handle a crossbow, and endure toils in hunting. Whenever there is need of doing a thing I shall do it, never fear. I will take Yasko's clothes, put my hair in a net, strap a sword at my side, and ride away. Yasko, though younger, is not a hair smaller, and he is so like me in the face that when we disguised ourselves at the carnival my dead father could not tell which was Yasko and which I. The abbot will not know, you will see, nor will another." "Will not Zbyshko?" "If I meet him—" Matsko meditated a while, then he laughed unexpectedly, and said,— "But Vilk and Stan will go wild!" "Let them go wild! The worst is that they may follow us." "Have no fear. I am old, but they would better not crawl under my fist. They have tried Zbyshko already." Thus conversing they reached Kresnia. In the church was old Vilk, who from time to time cast gloomy looks at Matsko, but the latter paid no heed to him, and returned home light-hearted with Yagenka after mass. But when they had taken farewell at the crossroads, and when he found himself alone in Bogdanets, less joyful thoughts entered his head. He understood that neither Zgorzelitse nor Yagenka's family were really threatened by anything in case she went on a journey. "They are striving for the girl," thought he, "that is another thing; but against the orphans or their property Vilk and Stan will not raise a finger, for they would cover themselves with dreadful infamy, and every living man would hunt them down as real wolves. But Bogdanets will be defenceless. They will fill up the moats, drive off the cattle, entice away tenants! When I return, God knows if I shall be able to recover anything; I shall have to summon them to judgment, for not the fist alone, but law rules with us. Shall I return, though, and when? With me they are terribly angry because I have stood between them and Yagenka; but if she goes with me they will be angrier." Sorrow and regret seized the old man, for he had begun to manage Bogdanets in proper fashion, and now he felt certain that should he return he would find desolation there and ruin. "Well, we must find a cure," thought he. So after dinner he had a horse saddled. He mounted and rode directly to Brozova, where he arrived about nightfall. Old Vilk was sitting in his front chamber at a cup of mead; the younger Vilk, who had been slashed by Stan, lay on a bench which was covered with skins; he was drinking also. Matsko went in unobserved and stood near the threshold, stern-faced, tall, bony, unarmed, but with a strong sword at his girdle. They recognized him immediately, for the bright light of the fire struck his face, and at the first moment both father and son sprang to their feet with the speed of lightning, and rushing to the wall each seized whatever weapon was nearest. But the experienced Matsko, knowing men and their methods through and through, was not alarmed in any way; he did not reach for his sword; he merely put his hand on his hip and asked with a calm voice in which there was a certain tone of banter,— "What do I see? Is this the noble hospitality of Brozova?" Their hands dropped at these words, and after a little the old man's sword fell to the floor with a clatter. Young Vilk let his lance go, and they stood with necks stretched toward Matsko; their faces ominous, but astonished, and with shame on them. Matsko smiled. "Praised be Jesus Christ!" said he. "For the ages of ages," answered Vilk with his son. "And Saint George!" "We serve him." "I have come to neighbors in good-will." "And in good-will do we greet thee. A guest is a sacred person." Old and young Vilk hurried toward Matsko; both pressed his right hand, then gave him the seat of honor at the table. In a moment wood was in the chimney, the table was covered with a mat on which were placed plates full of meat, a pitcher of beer with a flagon of mead, and they set about eating and drinking. From time to time young Vilk cast at Matsko peculiar glances, in which honor for the guest was struggling to overcome hatred for the visitor; but still he served the guest so diligently that he grew pale from exertion, for he was wounded, and deprived of his usual vigor. Curiosity was burning both father and son to know why Matsko had come to them, though neither inquired touching anything, but waited till he should begin of himself to speak. He, as a polite person, praised food, drink, and hospitality, and only when he had satisfied himself well did he say with a dignified air,— "It happens more than once that people quarrel, yes, and fight, but peace between neighbors is above everything." "There is nothing more precious than peace," replied Vilk, with equal dignity. "When a man must prepare for a long journey it happens also," continued Matsko, "that although he has lived in unfriendliness with some one, he is sorry to leave that man, and will not go without taking farewell of him." "God reward for the kind word." "Not word alone, but deed also, for I have come hither." "We are glad from our souls to see thee. Come every day even." "Let me honor you in Bogdanets as befits people who know knightly honor, but I must go soon on a journey." "To war, or to some holy place?" "I should prefer to go to one or the other of these two, but I am to make a worse visit, for I am going to the Knights of the Cross." "To the Knights of the Cross?" cried father and son at the same moment. "Yes," answered Matsko. "But whoso goes among them without being their friend would better make peace with God as well as man, lest he lose not merely life, but eternal salvation." "This is wonderful," said old Vilk. "I have not seen any man thus far who met them without suffering injustice and oppression." "Yes, it is the same with our whole kingdom!" added Matsko. "Neither Lithuania before it received holy baptism nor the Tartars were more grievous than those devilish monks are." "The solid truth; but do you know this too: they have been gathering and gathering, until they have gathered in all, and now would be the time to finish them in this style!" Then the old man spat lightly in both hands, and the young one added,— "It cannot be otherwise." "And surely it will be that way, but when? Not our head answers for that, but the king's. Maybe it will be soon, maybe not soon God knows. Meanwhile I must go to them." "And is it with a ransom for Zbyshko?" At the mention of Zbyshko by his father, young Vilk's face grew pallid from hatred in an instant, and became threatening. But Matsko answered calmly: "Perhaps with a ransom, but not for Zbyshko." These words increased still more the curiosity of father and son, and the old man, unable to restrain himself longer, said,— "You are free to answer or not. Why are you going there?" "I will tell, I will tell," said Matsko, nodding, "but first I will say something else. Now consider: after I go Bogdanets will remain under the sole care of God. At first, when Zbyshko went to war under Prince Vitold, the abbot looked after our property, yes, and Zyh also a little; but now neither the one nor the other will care for it. It is terribly painful for a man to think that he has been laboring and running for nothing. But you know how these things go. They will entice people away from me, will plow over the boundary; each will steal what he can of my cattle, and though the Lord Jesus permit my return in safety, I shall return to empty places. There is but one cure for this, one salvation: a good neighbor. Therefore I have come to beg you in neighbor fashion to take Bogdanets under your care, and let no one rob me." When old Vilk heard this request he looked at young Vilk, and young Vilk looked at old Vilk, and both were astonished beyond measure. A moment of silence followed, for neither one found an answer immediately. Matsko raised the goblet of mead to his lips, drank it, then talked on as calmly and comfortably as if both had been his most intimate well-wishers,— "Now I will tell you sincerely from whom I expect the greatest damage. From no one except Stan of Rogov. Of you, though we separated in unfriendliness, I should have no fear, because you are knightly people, who will stand up before the eyes of an enemy but will take no unseemly revenge behind his back. Oh, with you it is something different. A knight is a knight!—but Stan is a clown, and from a clown a man may expect anything; all the more since, as you know, he is terribly angry at me because I stood between him and Yagenka." "Whom you are saving for your nephew!" burst out young Vilk. Matsko looked at the youth, and for a while held him under his cool glance; after that he turned to the old man, and said calmly,— "You know my nephew has married a young heiress of Mazovia, and has received a worthy dowry." Again followed a silence which was still deeper; the father and son looked for some time at Matsko with open mouths. At last the old man said,— "Hei, how is that? For people said— 'Will you tell about it?'" "It is just on that business," continued Matsko, as if paying no heed to the question," that I must go, and therefore I beg you to look in from time to time at Bogdanets, and let no one do any harm there, and do you, as worthy and honest neighbors, protect me, especially from Stan's attacks." By this time young Vilk, whose mind was sufficiently nimble, considered at once that if Zbyshko had married it was better for him to have Matsko's friendship, since Yagenka had confidence in the old man, and was ready to follow his advice in all things. Entirely new horizons opened at once before the eyes of the young water-burner. "I must do more than keep from opposing Matsko, I must have his favor," said he to himself. And, though somewhat in liquor, he stretched his hand under the table quickly, caught his father's knee, and pressed it as a sign not to say anything improper. "Have no fear of Stan!" said he to Matsko. "Oho, let him just try ! He has cut me a little, it is true, but I have slashed his woolly face for him so that his own mother would not know him. Fear nothing, go on your journey in peace. Not a crow will be lost in Bogdanets." "That is the right thing. I see that you are honorable people. Do you promise?" "We promise!" cried both. "And on your escutcheon?" "On our escutcheon! More than that, on the Cross! So help us God!" Matsko smiled to himself with pleasure, then said,— "Well, this is what I expected. And since you act as you do I will say more. Zyh, as you know, gave me guardianship over his children; therefore I stood before Stan, and thee, young man, when you wanted to break into Zgorzelitse. But when I shall be in Malborg, or God knows where, poor guardianship will mine be. It is true that God stands above orphans, and that the man who wrongs them not only has his head cut off with an axe, but is declared infamous; still I am sorry to go, terribly sorry. Promise me then that not only will you not wrong Zyh's orphans, but that you will let no one else wrong them." "We swear, we swear!" "On your knightly honor and escutcheon?" "On our knightly honor and escutcheon!" "And on the Cross?" "And on the Cross." "God has heard. Amen," concluded Matsko; and he drew a deep breath of relief, for he knew that they would keep such an oath even though each one of them had to gnaw his fist from vexation and anger. And he began to take farewell immediately, but they detained him almost by violence. He had to drink more, and he became a gossip to old Vilk. Young Vilk, though he sought quarrels usually when in liquor, merely threatened Stan savagely, and attended Matsko as zealously as if he were to get Yagenka from him on the day following. But before midnight he grew faint from exertion, and when restored fell asleep like a stone. His father followed this example soon after, so that Matsko left both as if dead at the table. Having himself a head enduring beyond measure, he was not intoxicated, only somewhat rejoiced, so, while returning home, he thought almost with delight of what he had accomplished. "Well," said he to himself, "Bogdanets is safe, and Zgorzelitse is safe. They will be enraged because Yagenka is going, but they will guard my property and hers, for they must do so. The Lord Jesus has given man cleverness. When a thing cannot be got by the fist we must get it by clear wit. If I come back I shall not escape the old man's challenge to the field, but never mind. God grant me to trap the Knights of the Cross in like manner. But with them it will be harder. Though a dog brother may be found among our people sometimes, if he swears on his knightly honor and escutcheon he will keep his oath; but for Knights of the Cross an oath is as spittle in the river. But maybe the Mother of God will support me, so that I may be of some use to Zbyshko, as I have been now to Zyh's children and to Bogdanets." Then it occurred to him that really the girl need not go, for old and young Vilk would guard her as the sight of their eyes. After a while, however, he rejected that thought. "They will guard her, but Stan will attack all the more. Gods knows who will conquer, and it is sure that there will be battles and attacks in which Zgorzelitse will suffer,—Zyh's sons, and Yagenka herself even. It will be easier for old Vilk and his son to take care of Bogdanets, and better for the girl in every case to be far away from those two quarrellers, and near the rich abbot." Matsko did not believe that Danusia could escape alive from the Knights of the Cross, so he did not abandon the hope that when Zbyshko returned a widower he would surely feel the will of God toward Yagenka. "O mighty God!" thought he, "if having Spyhov he should marry Yagenka with Mochydoly, and with what the abbot will leave her, I should not begrudge a stone of wax for candles." In such meditation the road passed quickly. But he came to Bogdanets late at night, and was astonished when he saw the membrane windows lighted brightly. The waiting-men were not asleep, for he had barely ridden into the yard when the stable-boy ran out to him. "Are there guests?" asked Matsko, dismounting. "Yes, the young lord from Zgorzelitse, with the Cheh." Matsko wondered at this visit. Yagenka had promised to come before daylight in the morning, and they were to start immediately. Why had Yasko come, and so late? The old knight thought that something had happened in Zgorzelitse and entered the house with some fear. In the large front chamber in a baked clay chimney, which in that house was used instead of the fireplace common in the middle of apartments, pitch-pine sticks were burning cheerily and brightly, and above the table were blazing in iron sockets two torches, by the light of which Matsko saw Yasko, Hlava, and another youth with a face as ruddy as an apple. "What is the matter, Yasko? What is the matter with Yagenka? " asked the old noble. "Yagenka gave command to tell thee," said the youth, kissing Matsko's hand, "that she has changed her mind and will stay at home." "Fear God, but what is this? How? What has shot into her head there?" The youth raised his blue eyes to the old man and laughed. "Why art thou giggling?" At that moment Hlava and the other youth burst out also into joyous laughter. "Well," cried the supposed Yasko, "who will know me since you do not?" Only then did Matsko look closely at the charming figure, and cry,— "In the name of the Father and Son! A regular carnival ! But why art thou here, thou imp?" "Why? Whoso has a journey to make must be on the road." "But thou wert to come here to-morrow at daylight." "What an idea! To-morrow at daylight, so that all might see me! To-morrow they will think in Zgorzelitse that I am here, and will not look around till the day after. The housekeeper and Yasko know that I am going, but Yasko has promised on his knightly honor to tell only when people are alarmed. But you did not know me, did you?" Matsko laughed now in his turn. "Let me look again at thee. Hei! a wonderfully handsome lad thou art!—and peculiar. From such one might expect a new race—I tell the truth. Oh, if I were not old—well! But I tell thee, girl, take care of seeing me too often, take care!" And laughing, he threatened with his finger, but he looked at her with great satisfaction, for he had never seen such a youth. She had a net of red silk on her head, she wore a coat of green cloth, trousers wide at the hips and close-fitting lower down; one leg of the trousers was the color of the head net, the other was in perpendicular stripes. With a handsome sword at her side, her face as bright as the dawn, it was impossible to take one's eyes from her, such was the girl's beauty. "Upon my word," said the rejoiced Matsko, "art thou some wonderful young lord, or a flower, or what?" Then he turned to the other youth and asked: "But who is this here—some traitor of course?" "This is only Anulka," said Yagenka. "I should feel awkward among you if I were alone; how could I go? So I took Anulka; it is pleasanter with company than alone, besides I need help and service. No one will know her either." "Well, granny, here is a wedding for thee! One was not enough; we must have two." "Do not tease." "I will not tease, but in the daytime every one will know her and thee." "Why should they?" "Thy knees turn in—and hers also." "Oh, give us peace! " "I will, for my time is past; but will Stan and Vilk give it? God knows. Dost know, thou gadfly, whence I come?From old Vilk's house." "By the dear God! What do you tell me?" "The truth, as this is truth, that old and young Vilk will defend Bogdanets and Zgorzelitse against Stan. Well, to challenge enemies, to fight with them is easy, but to make enemies guard one's property, no drone can do that." Here Matsko told of his visit at Vilk's house, how he had snared the men and hung them both on a hook. Yagenka listened with great astonishment, and when he had finished she said,— "The Lord Jesus has not spared cunning in your case, and I see that everything will be as you wish." "Ah, girl, if everything were as I wish thou wouldst have been mistress of Bogdanets this long time." At this Yagenka looked at him for a while with her blue eyes, and then approaching kissed his hand. "Why dost thou kiss me?" asked the old man. "Oh, nothing! I merely say good-night to you, for it is late, and we must start before daybreak." And taking Anulka with her she went out, and Matsko conducted Hlava to his room, where, after they had lain down on buffalo skins, both fell into deep, strengthening sleep.
|