The Knights of the Cross

And weeping began to tear his gigantic body. Above, the longing voice continued to sing amid the undisturbed silence of the night: "Would that I might sit In the little Szlonsk garden To gaze upon little Jasiek The poor orphan!"

In the morning a stout, bearded German retainer began to prod the ribs of the knight lying at the gate.

"Upon your feet, dog!... The gate is open, and the count orders you to appear before him."

Jurand awoke, as if from sleep. He did not catch the man by the throat, he did not crush him in his iron hands, he had a quiet and almost humble face; he arose, and, without saying a word, followed the soldier through the gate.

He had hardly crossed, when a clang of chains was heard, and the bridge began to be drawn up again, while in the gateway itself fell a heavy iron grating.

END OF PART FOURTH.