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For a quarter of an hour the uproar seethed, when above the

bawling crowd, out of the throng of heads, there leapt aloft a

shining pillar. This was a sword two yards long and a whole palm

broad, sharp on both edges. Evidently it was a German sword,

forged of Nuremberg steel; all gazed at the weapon in silence.

Who had raised it up? They could not see, but at once they

guessed.

"That is the penknife, long live the penknife!" they shouted;

"vivat the penknife, the jewel135 of Rembajlo hamlet! Vivat

Rembajlo, Notchy, Half-Goat, My-boy!"

At once Gerwazy, for it was he, pressed through the crowd into

the middle of the room, carrying his flashing penknife; then,

lowering the point before Maciek as a sign of greeting, he said:-