The Knights of the Cross

And terrible recollections began to tear him with increasing force, his voice died away for an instant in his breast, then he said, half groaning: "I had only one, like a ewe lamb, like the heart in my breast, and they captured her like a dog on a rope, and she died there.... Now again, the child ... Jesus, Jesus!"

And again there was silence. Zbyszko raised his youthful, perplexed face toward the moon, then again looked at Jurand and inquired: "Father!... It would be far better for them to earn men's esteem than their vengeance. Why do they commit so much wrong on all nations and all people?"

But Jurand spread his hands apart as if in despair, and replied with a choked voice: "I do not know...."

Zbyszko meditated for a time over his own question, presently however his thoughts turned to Jurand.

"People say that you wreaked a worthy vengeance," he said.

Jurand meanwhile controlled his anguish, bethought himself and said: "But I swore their ruin ... and I also swore to God that if He would permit me to glut my vengeance I would surrender to Him the child that was left to me. This is the reason why I objected to you. But now I do not know: was it His will, or did you awaken His anger by your action?"

"No," said Zbyszko. "I told you once before that even if the ceremony had not been performed, yet the scoundrels would have carried her off. God accepted your vow, and presented me with Danusia, because without His will we could accomplish nothing."

"Every sin is against God's will."

"A sin is, but not the sacrament. Because the sacrament is God's matter."

"Therefore there is no help."

"And God be blessed there is not! Therefore do not complain, because nobody would help you against the robbers so well as I will. You will see! In any case I shall pay them for Danusia, but even if one of those who captured your deceased be still alive, leave him to me and you shall see!"

But Jurand shook his head.

"No," he answered, gloomily, "none of those will be alive...."

For a time only the snorting of horses and the smothered echo of the hoofs striking against the beaten road was audible.

"Once at night," continued Jurand, "I heard a voice, as if coming from a wall, saying to me: 'Enough vengeance!' but I did not obey, because it was not the voice of the deceased."