CHAPTER IV.Whose retinue is this?” inquired Jurand, suddenly starting from musing, as if from sleep, beyond Radzanow.
“Mine,” replied Zbyszko.
“And did all my people perish?”
“I saw them dead in Niedzborz.”
“Have you no old comrades?”
Zbyszko made no reply, and they traveled on in silence, but hurriedly, because they wanted to get to Spychow as quickly as possible, hoping possibly to meet some Teutonic messengers there. To their good fortune the frosts set in again, and the highways were firm, so that they could make haste.
Toward evening Jurand spoke again, and began to inquire about those brethren of the Order who were at the Forest Court, and Zbyszko narrated everything—their complaints, their departure, the death of de Fourcy, his follower’s action in crushing Danveld’s arm so te
