"From the Teutons, who brought the balsam. I recognized her at once, and so did Sanderus. She came, at it seems, to spy, and she certainly knows now where the lady is." "And we shall know," said Zbyszko. "Do you also know that _pontnik_?" "No," replied Sanderus; "but do not buy, sir, any remissions from him, because he is a false _pontnik_," "If you put him to the torture, you might obtain a lot of information." "Wait!" said Zbyszko. Meanwhile, in the next room hardly had the doors closed behind Zbyszko and the priest Kaleb, when the sister of the Order quickly approached Jurand and whispered: "Robbers captured your daughter." "With crosses on their robes?" "No. But God blessed the pious brethren, so that they recovered her, and now she is with them." "Where is she, I ask." "Under the care of the religious Brother Shomberg," she answered, crossing her hands on her breast and bowing humbly. But Jurand, hearing the dreadful name of the hangman of Witold's children, turned as pale as linen; after a moment he sat on a bench, shut his eyes, and began to wipe away the cold perspiration, which collected in beads on his forehead. Seeing this, the _pontnik_, although he had not hitherto been able to restrain his fear, now put his hands on his hips, lounged on the bench, stretched out his legs and looked at Jurand, with eyes full of pride and scorn. A long silence followed. "Brother Markward also assists Brother Shomberg in guarding her," again said the woman; "it is a vigilant watch and no harm will happen to the lady." "What am I to do in order to get her back?" inquired Jurand. "To humble yourself before the Order!" proudly said the _pontnik_. At this Jurand arose, went up to him, and bending down over him, said in concentrated, terrible tones: "Be silent!" And the _pontnik_ was again terror-stricken. He knew, that he could threaten and say what would tame and overwhelm Jurand, but he was terrified lest, before saying a word, something dreadful would happen to him; he therefore remained silent, with dilated eyes, as if petrified with fear, fixed on the threatening face of the lord of Spychow, and sat motionless, only his beard began to quiver with agitation. Jurand again turned to the sister of the Order: "Have you a letter?" "No, sir. We have no letter. What we have to say, we were ordered to say verbally." "Then speak!" And she repeated again, as if wishing that Jurand should impress it well in his memory: "Brother Shomberg and Brother Markward watch over the lady; therefore, you sir, restrain your anger.... But no evil will happen to her, because although you have gravely injured the Order for many years, nevertheless the brethren wish to repay you good for evil if you comply with their just demands." "What do they wish?" "They wish you to release Herr von Bergow." Jurand breathed heavily. "I will return von Bergow to them," he said. "And the other prisoners that you have in Spychow."