In the same hall, behind the table that evening, sat old Zygfried von Löve, who, after the bailiff Danveld, temporarily took command of Szczytno, and near him were Brother Rotgier, and the knight von Bergow, a former prisoner of Jurand's and two noble youths, novices, who were soon to put on white mantles. The wintry storm was howling outside the windows, shaking the leaden window-frames; the torchlights, which were burning in iron frames, wavered, and now and then the wind drove clouds of smoke from the chimney into the hall. Silence reigned among the brethren, although they were assembled for a consultation, because they were waiting for the word from Zygfried, who, again resting his elbows on the table and running his hands over his grey and bowed head, sat gloomy with his face in the shadow and with sullen thoughts in his soul. "About what are we to deliberate?" finally asked Brother Rotgier. Zygfried raised his head, looked at the speaker, and, awakening from thought, said: "About the defeat, about what the master and the assembly will say, and about this, that our actions may not cause any loss to the Order." He was silent again, but after a while he looked around and moved his nostrils: "There is still a smell of blood here." "No, count," replied Rotgier; "I ordered the floor to be scrubbed and the place to be fumigated with sulphur. It is the odor of sulphur." And Zygfried looked at those present with a strange glance, and said: "God have mercy upon the soul of our brothers Danveld and Godfried!" They again understood that he implored God's mercy upon their souls, because, at the mention of sulphur, he thought of hell; therefore a chill ran through their bones and all at once replied: "Amen! amen! amen!" After a moment the howling of the wind and the rattling of the window-frames were heard again. "Where are the bodies of the count and Brother Godfried?" inquired the old man. "In the chapel: the priests are chanting the litany over them." "Are they already in coffins?" "In coffins, only the count's head is covered, because his skull and face are crushed." "Where are the other corpses, and where are the wounded?" "The corpses are in the snow so as to stiffen whilst the coffins are being made, and the wounded are being attended to in the hospital." Zygfried again ran his hands over his head. "And one man did that!... God, have the Order under Thy care, when it comes to a great war with this wolfish race!" Upon that Rotgier turned up his eyes, as if recollecting something, and said: "I heard in Wilno, how the bailiff of Samboz spoke to his brother the master: 'If you do not make a great war and get rid of them, so that even their name shall not remain, then woe to us and our nation.'" "May God give such a war and a meeting with them!" said one of the noble novices.