And tears suddenly started in Zbyszko's eyes; in a moment he fell upon his knees and, putting a finger on the hilt, exclaimed: "Upon the Holy Passion, I will never harm, and will love her constantly!" "Amen," said Father Kaleb. Jurand again put the "dagger of mercy" back into the sheath and extended his arms: "Then you are my child too!..." They separated then, because it was late, and they had had no good rest for several days. However, Zbyszko got up the following morning at daybreak, because the previous day he had been frightened, lest Jurand were really falling ill, and he wished to learn how the older knight had spent the night. Before the door to Jurand's room he met Tolima, who had just left it. "How is the lord? well?" he inquired. The other again bowed, and then, putting his hand to his ear, said: "What orders, your grace?" "I am asking how the lord is?" repeated Zbyszko, louder. "The lord has departed." "Where to?" "I do not know.... In arms!" CHAPTER VII. The dawn was just beginning to whiten the trees, bushes and boulders scattered in the fields, when the hired guide, walking beside Jurand's horse, stopped and said: "Permit me to rest, knight, for I am out of breath. It is thawing and foggy, but it is not far now." "You will conduct me to the road, and then return," replied Jurand. "The road will be to the right behind the forest, and you will soon see the castle from the hill." Then the peasant commenced to strike his hands against his armpits, because he was chilled with the morning dampness; he then sat on a stone, because this exercise made him still more breathless. "Do you know whether the count is in the castle?" inquired Jurand. "Where else could he be, since he is ill?" "What ails him?" "People say that the Polish knights gave him a beating," replied the old peasant. And there was a feeling of satisfaction in his voice. He was a Teuton subject, but his Mazovian heart rejoiced over the superiority of the Polish knights. He presently added: "Hej! our lords are strong, but they have a hard task with them." But immediately after saying this, he looked sharply at the knight, as if to convince himself that nothing bad would happen to him for the words which he had heedlessly let slip and said: "You, lord, speak our language; you are no German?" "No," replied Jurand; "but lead on." The peasant arose, and again began to walk beside the horse. On the way, he now and then put his hand into a leathern pouch, pulled out a handful of unground corn, and put it into his mouth, and when he had thus satisfied his first hunger, he began to explain why he ate raw grains, although Jurand was too much occupied with his own misfortune and his own thoughts, to heed him.