But on hearing her sweet, young voice, he trembled; a strange flush appeared on his face as though from tender emotion; he covered his hollow orbits with his eyebrows, and suddenly threw down his staff and fell on his knees, with outstretched arms, in front of her.
"Get up! I will a.s.sist you. What ails you?" asked Jagienka in astonishment.
But he did not reply, but tears rolled down his cheeks, and he groaned:
"A!--a!--a!..."
"For the love of G.o.d--Can you not say something?"
"A!--a!"
Then he lifted up his hand, with which he made first the sign of the cross, then pa.s.sed his left hand over his mouth.
Jagienka understood it not, and she looked at Macko, who said:
"He seems to indicate that his tongue has been torn out."
"Did they tear out your tongue?" asked the girl.
"A! a! a! a!" repeated the beggar several times, nodding his head.
Then he pointed with his fingers to his eyes; then he moved his left hand across his maimed right, showing that it was cut off.
Then both understood him.
"Who did it?" inquired Jagienka.
The beggar again made signs of the cross repeatedly in the air.
"The Knights of the Cross," shouted Macko.
As a sign of affirmation the old man let his head drop upon his chest again.
There was silence for a moment. Macko and Jagienka looked at each other with alarm, because they had now before them sufficient proof of their cruelty and the lack of means to chastise those knights who style themselves "the Knights of the Cross."
"Cruel justice!" said Macko, finally. "They punished him grievously, and G.o.d knows whether deservedly. If I only knew where he belongs, I would lead him there, for surely he must be from this neighborhood. He understands our language, for the common people here are the same as in Mazowsze."
"Did you understand what we said?" asked Jagienka.
The beggar nodded his head.
"Are you of this neighborhood?"
"No!" The beggar shook his head.
"Perhaps he comes from Mazowsze?"
"Yes!" he nodded.
"Under Prince Ja.n.u.sz?"
"Yes!"
"But what were you doing among the Knights of the Cross?"
The old man could give no answer, but his face a.s.sumed an air of intense suffering, so much so that Jagienka"s heart beat with greater force out of sympathy. Even Macko who was not subject to emotion, said:
"I am sure the dog-brothers have wronged him. May be he is innocent."
Jagienka meanwhile put some small change in the beggar"s hand.
"Listen," she said, "we will not abandon you. Come with us to Mazowsze, and in every village we will ask you whether it is yours. May be we shall guess it. Meanwhile, get up, for we are no saints."
But he did not get up, nay, he even bowed lower and embraced her feet as much as to place himself under her protection and show his grat.i.tude. Yet there were marks of certain astonishment, yea even disappointment on his face. May be that from the voice he thought he was in the presence of a young woman; but his hand happened to touch the cowskin gaiters which the knights and armor-bearers were accustomed to wear.
But she said:
"It shall be so; our wagons will soon be here, then you will rest and refresh yourself. But we are not going to take you now to Mazowsze because we must first go to Szczytno."
When the old man heard this, he jumped straight up, terror and amazement were depicted on his face. He opened his arms as though desiring to obstruct their way, and strange, wild e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.i.o.ns proceeded from his throat, full of terror and dismay.
"What is the matter with you?" exclaimed Jagienka, much frightened.
But the Bohemian, who had already arrived with Sieciechowa, and for some time had his eyes riveted upon the old beggar, suddenly turned to Macko, and with a countenance changed, and in a strange voice, said:
"For G.o.d"s sake, permit me, sir, to speak to him, for you do not know who he may be."
After this he begged for no further permission, but rushed toward the old man, placed his hands upon his shoulders, and asked him:
"Do you come from Szczytno?"
The old man appeared to be struck by the sound of his voice, quieted himself and nodded affirmatively.
"Did you not look there for your child? ..."
A deep groan was the only reply to this question.
Then the Bohemian"s face paled a little, he looked sharply for a moment at the outlines of the old man"s face, then he said slowly and composedly:
"Then you are Jurand of Spychow."
"Jurand!" shouted Macko.
But Jurand was overcome at that moment and fainted. Protracted torture, want of nourishment, fatigue of the road, swept him from his feet. The tenth day had now pa.s.sed since he left, groping his way, erring and feeling his way with his stick, hungry, fatigued and not knowing where he was going, unable to ask the way, during the daytime he turned toward the warm rays of the sun, the night he pa.s.sed in the ditches along the road.
When he happened to pa.s.s through a village, or hamlet, or accidentally encountered people on the road, he only could beg with his hand and voice, but seldom a compa.s.sionate hand helped him, because as a rule he was taken for a criminal whom law and justice had chastised. For two days he had lived on bark and leaves of trees; he was already giving up all hope of reaching Mazowsze, when suddenly compa.s.sionate voices and hearts of his own countrymen surrounded him; one of whom reminded him of the sweet voice of his own daughter; and, when at last his own name was mentioned, he was greatly agitated and unable to bear it any longer; his heart broke. His thoughts whirled through his head; and, were it not for the strong arms of the Bohemian which supported him, he would have fallen with his face in the dust of the road.
Macko dismounted, then both took hold of him, and carried him to the wagons and laid him upon the soft hay. There, Jagienka and Sieciechowa nursed him. Jagienka observed that he could not carry the cup of wine to his lips by himself so she helped him. Immediately after this he fell into a profound sleep, from which he did not awake till the third day.