The guide was a few steps in advance. Behind him were Macko and Jagienka on horseback; some distance behind them were the Bohemian and Sieciechowa, and farther back were the wagons surrounded by armed men. It was an exquisite morning. The rosy glow had not yet disappeared from the horizon, although the sun had already risen and changed into opals the dewdrops upon the trees and grasses.
"Are you not afraid to go to Szczytno?" asked Macko.
"I am not afraid," replied Jagienka, "God is with me, because I am an orphan."
"There is no faith there. The worst dog was Danveld whom Jurand killed together with Godfried…. The Bohemian told me so. The second after Danveld, was Rotgier, who succumbed by Zbyszko's axe, but the old man is a ruthless tyrant, and is sold to the devil…. They know not kindness. However, I am of opinion that if Danuska has perished she did so by his own hands. They also say that something happened to her. But the princess said in Plock that she extricated herself. It is with him that we shall have to contend at Szczytno…. It is well that we have a letter from Lichtenstein, and as it appears they, the dog-brothers, are afraid of him more than they are of the master himself…. They say that he has great authority and is particularly strict, and is very revengeful, he never forgives even the slightest offence…. Without this safe conduct I would not travel so peacefully to Szczytno…."
"What is his name?"
"Zygfried von Löve."
"God grant that we may manage him too."
"God grant it!"
Macko smiled for a moment and then said:
"The princess also told me in Plock: 'Ye grieve and complain like lambs against wolves, but in this instance three of the wolves are dead, because the innocent lambs strangled them.' She spoke the truth; it is actually so."