"That is certainly true."
"As God is in heaven!"
Then they became silent and rode along amidst wind and snow. Suddenly Zbyszko reined in his horse; from the forest beside the road, there was heard a plaintive voice, half stifled by the roar of the wind: "Christians, help God's servant in his misfortune!"
Thereupon a man who was dressed partly in clerical clothing, rushed to the road and began to cry to Zbyszko: "Whoever you are, sir, help a fellow-creature who has met with a dreadful accident!"
"What has happened to you, and who are you?" asked the young knight.
"I am God's servant, although not yet ordained; this morning the horse which was carrying my chests containing holy things, ran away. I remained alone, without weapons; evening is approaching, and soon the wild beasts will begin to roar in the forest. I shall perish, unless you succor me."
"If I let you perish," answered Zbyszko, "I will be accountable for your sins; but how can I believe that you are speaking the truth. You may be a highway robber, like many others wandering on the roads!"
"You may believe me, sir, for I will show you the chests. Many a man would give a purse full of gold for what is in them; but I will give you some of it for nothing, if you take me and the chests with you."
"You told me that you were God's servant, and yet you do not know that one must give help, not for earthly recompense, but for spiritual reward. But how is it that you have the chests now if the horse carried them away?"
"The wolves devoured the horse in the forest, but the chests remained; I brought them to the road, and then waited for mercy and help."
Wishing to prove that he was speaking the truth, he pointed to two chests made of leather, lying under a pine tree. Zbyszko still looked at him suspiciously, because the man did not look honest, and his speech indicated that he came from a distant part of the country. He did not refuse to help him, however, but permitted him to ride the horse led by the Czech and take the chests, which proved to be very light.
"May God multiply your victories, valiant knight!" said the stranger.
Then, seeing Zbyszko's youthful face, be added softly: "And the hairs of your beard, also."
He rode beside the Czech. For a time they could not talk, because a strong wind was blowing, and roaring in the forest; but when it decreased, Zbyszko heard the following conversation behind him.