"I am going to Danusia, to my dearest," he said to himself. He noticed that this was a more holy love. Gradually his feet grew colder in the stirrups, and the cold wind cooled his blood. All his thoughts now turned to Danusia Jurandowna. He belonged to her without any doubt; but for her, he would have been beheaded on the Krakowski square. When she said in the presence of the knights and burghers: "He is mine!" she rescued him from the hands of the executioners; from that time, he belonged to her, as a slave to his master. Jurand's opposition was useless. She alone could drive him away; and even then he would not go far, because he was bound by his vow. He imagined, however, that she would not drive him away; but rather that she would follow him from the Mazowiecki court, even to the end of the world. Then he began to praise her to himself to Jagienka's disadvantage, as if it were her fault, that temptations assailed him and his heart was divided. Now he forgot that Jagienka cured old Macko; he forgot that without her help, the bear would have torn him to pieces; and he became enraged with her, hoping in this way to please Danusia and to justify himself in his own eyes. At this moment the Czech, Hlawa, sent by Jagienka, arrived, leading a horse. "Be blessed!" said he, with a low bow. Zbyszko had seen him once or twice in Zgorzelice, but he did not recognize him; therefore he said: "Be blessed for ages and ages! Who are you?" "Your servant, famous lord." "What do you mean? These are my servants," said Zbyszko, pointing to the two Turks, given to him by Sulimczyk Zawisza, and to two sturdy men who sitting on horseback, were leading the knight's stallions; "these are mine; who sent you?" "_Panna_ Jagienka Zychowna of Zgorzelice." "_Panna_ Jagienka?" A while ago, Zbyszko had been angry with her and his heart was still full of wrath; therefore he said: "Return home and thank the _panna_ for the favor; I do not want you." But the Czech shook his head. "I cannot return. They have given me to you; besides that, I have sworn to serve you until death." "If they gave you to me, then you are my servant." "Yours, sir." "Then I command you to return." "I have sworn; although I am a prisoner from Boleslawiec and a poor boy, still I am a _wlodyczka_."[87] Zbyszko became angry: "Go away! What; are you going to serve me against my will? Go away, before I order my servants to bend their crossbows." But the Czech quietly untied a broadcloth mantle, lined with wolf-skins, handed it to Zbyszko and said: "_Panna_ Jagienka sent you this, also, sir." "Do you wish me to break your bones?" asked Zbyszko, taking a spear from an attendant. "Here is also a bag of money for your disposal," answered the Czech.