"And whose voice could that be?" inquired Zbyszko, anxiously.
"I do not know. In Spychow frequently something talks in the walls, and sometimes moans, because many have died there in chains underground."
"And what does the priest tell you?"
"The priest sanctified the castle and also ordered me to relinquish vengeance, but that could not be. I became too hard on them, and then they themselves sought revenge. They lay in ambush and challenged me in the field.... And so it was this time. Meineger and von Bergow were the first to challenge me."
"Did you ever accept ransom?"
"Never! Of those I have captured, von Bergow will be the first to come out alive."
The conversation ceased, because they now turned from the broad highway into a narrower road, on which they traveled for a long time in silence on account of its tortuous course, and because in some places the snow formed drifts difficult to traverse. In the spring or summer, on rainy days, this road must have been almost impassable.
"Are we approaching Spychow already?" asked Zbyszko.
"Yes," answered Jurand. "There is a good deal of forest yet, and then begin the morasses, in the centre of which is the castle.... Beyond the morasses are the marshes and dry fields, while the castle can be approached only by the dike. The Germans wished to capture me repeatedly, but they could not, and their bones rot among the forest weeds."
"And it is hard to find," said Zbyszko. "If the Teutons send messengers with letters, how will they find us?"
"They have sent out several times already, and they have people who know the way."
"If we could only meet them at Spychow," said Zbyszko.
This wish was realized sooner than the young knight thought, for issuing from the forest into the open country, where lay Spychow among the swamps, they perceived before them two riders and a low sledge, in which were sitting three dark figures.
The night was very bright, therefore the whole group was perfectly visible against the white background of snow. Jurand's and Zbyszko's heart began to beat faster at this sight, because who else would be riding to Spychow in the middle of the night, but the messengers from the Teutons?
Zbyszko ordered the driver to go faster, and so they soon came so near each other, that they could be heard, and two riders, who apparently watched over the safety of the sledge, turned to them, and, unslinging their crossbows, cried: "Who is there?"