Zbyszko explained to her his own reason, which seemed to her just, but she did not comprehend it sufficiently.
"Jurand will now be thankful to us for his life," she said, "and forsooth he owes it to you because you went to dig him out. His heart would be of stone if he were still to continue his opposition to you. In this there is also God's warning to him not to oppose the holy sacrament. I shall tell him so as soon as he comes to his senses and is able to speak."
"It is necessary for him first to recover consciousness, because we do not yet know why he has not brought Danuska with him. Perhaps she is sick?"
"Do not say that something has happened I I feel so much troubled that she is not here. If she were sick he would not have left her."
"True!" said Zbyszko.
They went to Jurand. The heat in the room was intense, as in a bath. It was light, because there were big pine logs in the fireplace. Father Wyszoniek kept watch over the patient, who lay in bed, covered with a bear-skin; his face was pale, his hair matted with perspiration, and his eyes closed. His mouth was open, and his chest laboring with difficulty, but with such force that his breathing moved the bear-skin covering up and down.
"How is he doing?" inquired the princess.
"I poured a mug of hot wine into his mouth," replied the priest, "and perspiration ensued."
"Is he asleep, or not?"
"Probably not, for he labors heavily."