Chapter VI: Part 6

"Now," said Golden Tress, "let me tell you why I asked you to do this. In one of these tubs is water of strength, but in the other, water of weakness. Whirlwind always drinks the water of strength, and puts it on the right side, so we must mislead him or you will never be able to overcome him." Thereupon they made their way up the winding stairway to the apartment of Golden Tress, in which stood the shining throne made from a single emerald.

Golden Tress sat down upon this throne and composed herself, as if she were expecting a visitor. "In a short time," she said, "Whirlwind will fly home. Come and hide beneath my purple robe so that he may not be able to see you, and when he enters and runs to try to embrace me reach out your hand, which is now a hand of heroic strength, and seize his club. He will rise high and ever higher, but do not therefore release your hold upon his club. He will fly out of the window in the roof, and will carry you over seas and over precipices, but do not in dizziness release your hold upon his club. After a while Whirlwind will grow weak and will return to this palace and go down to the cellar, but do not release your hold upon his club. He will drink of the water in the tub on the right hand, but see that you drink meanwhile of the water in the other tub.

"When he has drunk well, he will grow weak, and then you must take his sharp sword from his girdle and hew off his head with it. As soon as his head falls to the ground you will hear voices behind you crying, 'Strike again, strike again.' But these will be the voices of tempters, and your answer to them must be, 'A hero's hand strikes once to kill, but never once to maim.'"

Ivan had scarcely disposed himself under the flowing purple robe which swept down upon the green and translucent base of the throne of Golden Tress, when suddenly the room grew dark and everything within it trembled and creaked. Whirlwind flew to his castle, and no one saw his form until he struck the courtyard stones. Then he became a goodly young man with a changeful restless face, and strode quickly into the castle carrying his club with a flourish, until he came before the emerald throne.

"Tfu, Tfu, Tfu," he said, sniffing disgustedly. "There is an odour of Russia here. Have you had visitors?"

"I cannot tell why you should think so," said Golden Tress. Then Whirlwind came forward and held out his arms to embrace the mother of Ivan, but with a quick movement the heroic youth stretched out his hand and seized his club. "I'll eat you," cried Whirlwind in a passion of anger, and Ivan replied, "Well, either you will or you won't."

With a piercing shriek Whirlwind turned and mounted quickly upward. He passed with a howl through the open window in the roof, and then his form was changed, but what it was now no one knew or was able to describe, for as often as any one opened eyes to look at him he filled them with dust and water; if any one sniffed him he made them sneeze; if any one tried to lay hands upon him he buffeted them in the chest and turned them about like weather vanes, all the while crying out, "What is my shape?" Only pigs could see him and knew of what shape he was and they had no powers of description.

It was well for Ivan that in this furious flight he kept a firm hold on Whirlwind's club, for as he rushed on over the world he kept shrieking, "I will smash you! I will lay you low! I will drown you!" But as his club was firmly held he was powerless to give a knock-down blow, and presently, wearied out with his own fury, he grew weak and began to sink. Then he turned homeward, and alighted gently and wearily upon the stones of the courtyard, where he became a young man with a restless peevish face, listlessly bearing his club, which would have trailed upon the ground if the heroic hand of Ivan had not upheld it. He made what speed he could to the cellar, and at once took a deep draught of the water of weakness, while Ivan, dropping the club, ran to the water of strength, of which he drank long and contentedly, and so became the first mighty hero in the whole white world.

Seeing that Whirlwind had now become weak to extremity he took his sharp sword from his girdle and cut off his head with it. Then from behind him he heard voices crying, "Strike again, strike again, or he will come to life." "No," cried Ivan in a heroic voice which in spite of himself seemed to echo throughout the world. "A hero's hand strikes once to kill, but never once to maim." Then without loss of time he made a fire, burned the body of Whirlwind as well as the head, and scattered his ashes from the ramparts of the castle to North, South, East, and West.

Then Golden Tress was glad and embraced her son. "Now let us eat," she said, "and then go home together. It is very wearisome here--for of what use is a throne of a single emerald if there are no people? What are fine couches and sideboards and flagons and furniture if there is no love?"

"Are there not even servants to wait upon you?" asked Ivan. "How are you served?"

"You will see in a moment," was the reply. "Think of dinner." So Ivan thought of the nicest dinner he could imagine--thick soup, white fish with pink sharp sauce, meat, potatoes and spinach with rich brown gravy, iced pudding and apples and nuts for dessert--and before he could have written out the list all these things were upon the sideboard where they kept hot until they were needed, all of course except the pudding which stayed outside upon the window-sill to keep cool.

But with all this there was no sound, not even the cheerful clatter of plates or the chink of a jug upon a tumbler, for the plates came floating singly through the air and settled down quietly before the diners, while the wine rose from the bottom of the glasses as you have seen it do at the conjuror's. Ivan and his mother ate in silence, and the young man was surprised to find the meal somewhat disappointing. His lovely mother watched him closely with a wise smile upon her face. "When we get home," she promised herself, "he shall have hot cakes fresh from the oven with plenty of butter and--I shall make them myself." Then she laughed inwardly and sniffed gently through her delicate nostrils as if she smelt the kitchen smell of newly made bread and cakes, and that is better even than a throne of a single emerald or a couch with a cover of sable skins lined with softest silk from Samarcand.

When mother and son had rested for a while and talked of many things, Golden Tress enquiring particularly how the stoves were drawing in the palace of the Great White Tsar, the young man said, "Mother, let us go home now, for it is time, and besides, under the mountains my brothers are waiting for me. And on the way I must rescue three Tsaritzas who are living in the castles of Whirlwind the Whistler."

In a short time mother and son were ready for the journey, and though the castle was full of untold treasure they carried away with them not even a diamond of the size of a pin point. But they carried as many linen sheets as they could bear, not for vanity of housewifery but for a useful purpose. After a long journey they came to the Golden Tsaritza, Elena the Beautiful, and led her forth, asking her to carry with her as many linen sheets as she could comfortably bear. In a similar manner they led forth the Silver Tsaritza and the Copper Tsaritza, and these also brought linen sheets for the device which Ivan had designed.

When they came to the top of the precipice they tore the sheets into broad strips, knotted them together, and made a long linen rope of them; and by means of this stout rope, one end of which they fastened to the trunk of a lofty pine which had seen the dawn of history, they let themselves down to the plain below, first the Copper Tsaritza, then the Silver Tsaritza, then the Golden Tsaritza, Elena the Beautiful, and last of all Golden Tress, the Tsaritza of the Great White Tsar.

Now the two elder brothers of Ivan were standing below, waiting and watching, and when they saw the lovely ladies step daintily one after the other upon the earth they said to each other:

"Let us leave Ivan up there and let us take the three lovely maidens and our mother to our father, and tell him that we rescued them from Whirlwind the Whistler."

"Right and just," said Peter quickly, "I will take the Golden Tsaritza, Elena the Beautiful, for myself, and you, Vasily, take the Silver Tsaritza for yourself, and we will give the Copper Tsaritza to some general."

Meanwhile Golden Tress was looking steadily up the face of the precipice, waiting impatiently for Ivan to come down by the ladder of linen. But the two brothers ran forward, seized the linen, pulled it and tore it away. And when Ivan heard it snap near the trunk of the great pine, he sat down and in spite of his strength and manliness wept so sorely, and for such a long time, that his tears made a cascade down the face of the precipice, where the ladder of linen had wavered in the breeze.

Then he arose somewhat refreshed and relieved, and turning back walked aimlessly through the Copper Kingdom, the Silver Kingdom, and the Golden Kingdom, but he met no living person. Then he came to the Diamond Kingdom, but even here he met no living person. He was now weary almost to death, and in the midst of wealth untold yearned for the sound of a human voice. In the Diamond Palace, from which he had rescued his mother, he wandered disconsolate not knowing what to do when, all at once, he saw a whistle lying on the window ledge. He took it up, and, being a good musician, began to play a tune, but as soon as he had sounded only one note Lame and Crooked stood before him, who seemed to be bowing all the time.

"What is your pleasure?" he asked.

"Get a bed ready," said Ivan, and as soon as the words were spoken the bed stood near him with the pillows smoothed and the quilt turned down a little, so as to show the sheets of the finest linen. Ivan crept into the bed, in which he found a warming pan, settled down cosily and was soon in a deep sleep. After a time, the exact length of which does not matter, he awoke refreshed and whistled again. Before he could say Elena, Lame and Crooked stood before him.

"What is your pleasure?" he asked.

"Can everything be done, then?" asked Ivan.

"Everything is possible," was the reply. "Whoever blows that whistle has everything done for him. As we served Whirlwind the Whistler before, so now we are glad to serve the man who conquered him by bracing himself with draughts of the water which comes from the stinging East. It is only necessary to keep the whistle by you at all times."

"Well, then," said Ivan, "let me be in my own city this very moment."

He had no sooner spoken than he found himself in his own city, and standing in the middle of the market square. As he stood looking around him a jolly old shoemaker came up and Ivan said to him, "Where are you going, my good man?"

"I am going to sell my shoes," was the reply, "for I am a shoemaker."

"Take me into your employment," said the son of the Great White Tsar.

"But do you know how to make shoes?" was the cautious enquiry.

"Oh yes," said Ivan, with such confidence that the man could do nothing but believe him.

"I have the means of doing everything--not only making shoes but clothes as well."

"Come along, then," said the jolly shoemaker, and they went to his house. As soon as they had entered, the man took Ivan to the workshop and pointing to a seat near a bench he said: "Sit down there and get to work. I will go out to sell my wares, and when I return to-morrow I shall be able to judge exactly of your skill."

As soon as the man was gone Ivan took out his whistle and summoned Lame and Crooked.

"What is your pleasure?" asked he.

"To have shoes ready by to-morrow."

Lame and Crooked smiled a smile which seemed to wander round the room. "That is not work," he said, "but recreation."

"Here is the leather," said Ivan, and Lame and Crooked looked at it with a curving upper lip. "That is poor stuff," he said, "and the proper place for it is out of the window." Then he jumped out very nimbly after it and Ivan saw him no more; but when the young man awoke next morning he saw on the table beside his bed several pairs of shoes of the very best. He had scarcely dressed himself when the jolly old shoemaker came into his room and said, "Well, young man, are the shoes ready?"

"They are ready for sale," said Ivan quietly, pointing to the shoes on the table beside his bed. The shoemaker inspected them very closely, and his eyes opened wide in wonder. "Why, young man," he said, with a jolly smile, "you are not a shoemaker but a magician. I must go at once to the market and turn these fine shoes into good red gold."

Off he went to the market, and while he waited for customers to arrive he heard all the gossip of the city, which was greatly moved to curiosity over three forthcoming weddings at the palace of the Great White Tsar. He heard that Prince Peter was to marry the Golden Tsaritza, Elena the Beautiful, that Prince Vasily was to marry the Silver Tsaritza, and that the Copper Tsaritza was to marry a general. Dresses were being made for the wedding, said the good dames of the market-place, such as had never yet been designed or embroidered within the memory of the oldest in Holy Russia. Then came a royal messenger seeking shoes for Elena the Beautiful, and after searching the whole market he came to the stall of the jolly old shoemaker and easily concluded that his wares were finer and more delicate than any others; so he told the man to pack up his entire stock and come with him to the apartments of the Golden Tsaritza, Elena the Beautiful, in the palace of the Great White Tsar.

The Golden Tsaritza was seated among her maidens, who were so busy and excited and trembling that they sewed many of the lovely garments quite wrong; and as the shoemaker entered the room the Lady-of-Honour, who bore the high title of Golden Scissors, was scolding a pretty young dressmaker for putting the right sleeve in the place of the left. As for Elena the Beautiful herself, she sat looking straight before her with the expression on her face of a person who is obliged to do one thing but would rather do something else.

When she saw the shoes spread out on a table before her she looked at them in a listless manner; then, all at once, her beautiful eyes moistened and brightened, and she said to the shoemaker who stood near with his cap of rough fur in his hand, "What is the meaning of this? They make shoes of this pattern only in the mountains." At once an idea for gaining time came into her mind, and turning to the somewhat bewildered shoemaker, whose jolly face was clouded and anxious owing to his good fortune, she said to him in a voice which sounded hard and cold like the ring of steel upon an anvil, "Make me, without measure, another pair of shoes cunningly sewn, set with precious stones and glittering with diamonds. They must be ready for to-morrow, otherwise my servants will hale you to the gallows."

The shoemaker was then taken to the Tsar's treasury, where he chose the precious stones required, and was given money to buy leather of the richest and softest kind that could be obtained. He had received the most exalted order he had ever been honoured with, and might have put upon his signboard, "Shoemaker by Royal Appointment to the Golden Tsaritza," but still he was far from happy--in fact he was utterly miserable. "By Svyatogor, Ilya, and Vladimir and all the heroes," he said, "but greatness means great worry. Whatever shall I do? How can I make shoes by to-morrow when I am not allowed to measure the exalted foot of the beautiful Tsaritza? I shall make nothing by to-morrow but an end to my life, for it is very clear that I shall make acquaintance with the gallows--say about ten o'clock. However, seeing that it cannot be helped, let me have a last jollification with my companions."

Off he went to the inn where he had more friends than was good for him, and when they saw his face so gloomy which was usually so jolly and generous they eagerly asked him the cause of his trouble.

"Oh, my dear friends," he said, "I have been honoured with a Court order and as a consequence they are going to hang me to-morrow, and only the lucky man who succeeds to my business will reap the benefit of being able to call himself 'Shoemaker by Royal Appointment to the Golden Tsaritza.'"

"Why so?" asked his companions, who were so thirsty that they thought the shoemaker might have made a much shorter speech. Then the man told his trouble as shortly as possible, concluding with the words, "What think you, friends, of an order like that? I may as well enjoy myself with you for the last time, for they will surely come for me to-morrow morning--say about ten o'clock."

So they drank and drank and sang and joked and danced and then drank again, by which time the shoemaker was by no means steady upon his legs. "Well," he said, as the town clock struck twelve, "I will take home a keg of spirits and lie down to sleep, and to-morrow when they come to take me to the gallows I will drink a gallon and a half at one draught, and if they hang me drunk I may be able to look and feel jolly until the last."

Then he staggered home with the keg under his arm. He had scarcely passed the threshold when he saw Ivan and began at once to upbraid him. "You abandoned rascal," he cried, "see what your fine shoes have done for me." Then he told him as much of the story as he could remember, and staggered off to bed saying, "When they come for me in the morning, wake me up."

As soon as all was quiet Ivan took out his whistle and blew, whereupon Lame and Crooked appeared as before.

"What is your pleasure?" he asked, and the young Prince told him what was required.

"We obey!" said Lame and Crooked, who did not even ask for the precious stones from the Tsar's treasury which the shoemaker had used to wipe out his score at the inn.

Ivan lay down to sleep, and when he awoke next morning he thought that the sun had risen two hours too soon for his room was filled with fiery golden light. But it was only the brilliance of the precious stones set in the dainty shoes on the table by his bedside. He jumped up, dressed himself in the light of the shining gems which shone not by reflected radiance, but from the depth of their glowing hearts. Then he picked up the dainty shoes, kissed them lightly, and took them to his master whom he roused with a shake.

"It is time to rise," he said in the man's ear.

"What!" cried the shoemaker, sitting bolt upright with a tremendous start. "Have they come for me? Bring me the keg quickly and draw the blind to keep out the light, which shines too cheerfully for a poor fellow who is to be hanged about ten o'clock. Here is a cup. Pour the spirits in. They shall hang me drunk."

"But the shoes are made," said Ivan quietly, looking at the man with amusement almost conquered by disgust.

"Made? How made? Who made them? Where are they? Can't you draw the blind and keep out that silly light?"

Ivan drew the blind but the light was not thereby diminished, and now the bewildered shoemaker saw that the radiance came from the precious stones in the shoes which Ivan held in his hand.

The man rubbed his eyes in a dazed manner and then said, "They are made sure enough and look small enough even for Elena the Beautiful. When did we make them?"

"They were made in the night," said Ivan quietly, "but it is possible that you do not remember. Do you really find yourself unable to recall having cut and sewed them. Do try to remember--think it over very hard."

"Oh, brother," said the bewildered shoemaker, "it must have been working over these brilliant gems that has dazed my wits. I barely remember, but only very barely. But I must make haste to carry them to Elena the Beautiful. Thank goodness we have been able to execute her exalted order."

"And that you have been saved from occupying a still more exalted position," said Ivan, who being a prince had a great sense of humour.

"Yes, indeed," said the shoemaker as he left the house at great speed. Before Ivan could say Elena, which, by the way, he was continually saying to himself, the jolly shoemaker was standing in the apartment of the Golden Tsaritza where the preparations for the wedding seemed to be as busy as ever.

Elena the Beautiful looked at the shoes, and something to which she dared not give a name told her heart what had taken place. "Surely," she said to herself, very very softly, "the good Spirits made these for Ivan." Then aloud she said to the grinning shoemaker, "How did you make these?"

"Oh," said the man, "I am able to do everything."

The reply of the Tsaritza came quickly upon this boast. "If you can do everything, make me a wedding robe embroidered with gold and ornamented with diamonds and precious stones, which will fit my body as exactly as these shoes fit my feet. Let it be ready by to-morrow morning, for, if it is not, off goes your head."

The face of the shoemaker fell, and he went out into the street and walked a long, long way thinking very hard. "Well, well," he said at last, "it is of no use mourning. To-day will be my last day, that is quite certain, and I may as well spend it in jollification. For though a shoemaker may by great industry make a wonderful pair of shoes, he cannot make a wonderful wedding robe for a beautiful Tsaritza without measurements, to say nothing of trying on." Then he went off to the inn, where he found his companions, who seemed to live there.

"Well, what is wrong now?" they asked him as soon as they saw his gloomy face.

"Nothing but contradiction," he said. "My high-born patron has now made me Court Dressmaker and has ordered me to make her a wedding-robe embroidered with gold and ornamented with diamonds and precious stones, which will fit her body as exactly as my shoes fit her feet, and the whole contraption is to be ready by to-morrow morning, for, if it is not, off goes my head."

"Ah, brother," said the loafers, "it is clearly impossible that you should execute the order, and as we suppose you have the stones on your person we may as well go and frolic for to-day."

The face of the shoemaker fell still lower, for in his consternation he had forgotten to ask for the jewels from the royal treasury. But he had in his pocket the large price paid for the shoes, and, as his previous score was paid, the inn-keeper allowed the topers to have a good supply of spirits. Once more they caroused and once more the shoemaker-dressmaker took a keg of spirits home with him and told Ivan all his tale, concluding with the words, "Wake me in the morning. I'm off to bed." In a few minutes he was sound asleep.

Ivan at once blew the whistle, and Lame and Crooked appeared before him.

"What is your pleasure?"

"Make me a robe which will fit Elena the Beautiful to perfection. Let it be embroidered with gold and ornamented with diamonds and precious stones, and deliver it here before dawn."

"We obey," said Lame and Crooked. "The wedding robe shall be ready."

Ivan slept and woke before dawn. He knew at once that the light in his chamber came from the shining gems on the bodice of the beautiful robe which lay across a chair by his bedside. He jumped up, dressed himself quickly, and taking up the dress kissed the corsage where the heart of Elena would beat, and carried the wonderful garment to the chamber of his snoring master.

The light from the gems roused the man, who groaned, sat up slowly, and rubbed his eyes. "What!" he cried in a trembling voice, "is it broad day already, and have they come to cut off my head? Give me that keg of spirits and a can. I will drink three gallons at a draught and then I shall be so full of courage that I shall not feel the axe."

"But the robe is ready," said Ivan very quietly.

"What?" roared the Court Shoemaker-Dressmaker. "When did we make it?"

"It was made in the night, of course, and it is not the first time that a Court Dressmaker has had to work until the small hours. Do you not remember cutting the cloth?"

"Ah, brother," said the man who was now weeping like a crocodile for sheer relief, "it must have been the sheen of the gold embroidery that dazzled my wits. I barely remember, but only very barely. But I must make haste to carry this robe to Elena the Beautiful. Thank goodness I have been able to rise to the occasion once more."

"Yes, thank goodness," said Ivan, "but it is to be hoped that you will not be honoured with any more Court appointments." His employer, however, did not hear this last remark, for by the time that Ivan had finished speaking he was standing in the apartment of Elena the Beautiful, where the preparations seemed to be as busy as ever.

The Golden Tsaritza looked at the robe and something to which she dared not give a name told her heart what had taken place. "Surely," she said to herself, "the good Spirits made this robe for Ivan." Then aloud she said to the prinking shoemaker, "How did you make this?"

"Oh," said the unlucky man, "I can make anything."

The reply of the Tsaritza came like a flash of lightning. "See that at to-morrow's dawn," she said, "the Kingdom of Gold be on the sea, seven miles from shore, and across the blue waters stretching from that Kingdom to our palace let there be a bridge of gold with costly crimson velvet laid upon it and set at each side with wonderful trees to form an avenue full of love-birds singing sweetest songs of dawn with varied voices. If this is not done by to-morrow morning I will have you cut up into four quarters."

As the Tsaritza spoke, the face of the shoemaker took on an expression of wonder worthy of a large audience at the most wonderful conjuring entertainment you can imagine. Then he turned slowly and left the apartment of Elena the Beautiful, muttering to himself, "Court Shoemaker, Court Dressmaker, and now Court Magician. I may as well have another day's frolic, for though a man may rise twice in drowning he does not rise thrice and live."

He walked slowly off to the inn, heavily weighed down with greatness and cursing the day when he had forsaken his simple life. But he had the price of the robe in his pouch and the third carousal was as jolly as the others, and he swore to drink six gallons of spirits on the following morning. His friends gave him a drunken cheer, sang "He's a jolly good fellow," and saw him home with the keg under his arm.

As before Ivan was waiting for him, and as good luck would have it, the poor man for all his intoxication was able to remember what was required of him; and as for Lame and Crooked he smiled a crooked but very intelligent smile when the task was detailed to him. "At last," he said, "you give me real work to do."

Ivan went to sleep and woke early thinking that he had overslept himself and that it was now broad noon, for a bright light as of the sun was shining in at his chamber window which, as he knew very well, faced due south. He sprang from his bed, and, drawing aside the blind, saw across the sea the Kingdom of Gold in all its splendour lying like a shining island seven miles from the shore, and across the waters stretching from that Kingdom to the palace of the Great White Tsar there was a bridge of gold with costly crimson velvet laid upon it, at each side of which were set wonderful trees to form an avenue full of love-birds singing sweetest songs of dawn with varied voices. Ivan dropped the blind, dressed himself with particular care in the golden light which filled his chamber, went into his master's room and roused him from his heavy sleep.

"Have they come for me?" cried the man in great terror, "give me the keg and-----" But Ivan said quietly:

"But the Kingdom of Gold is upon the sea."

"Ah," said the shoemaker. "How did we do that?"

"Don't you remember how we fixed it?" said Ivan.

"Yes, yes," was the hasty reply. "I dimly remember, very, very dimly. Let us go out to see if we have finished the work with the care expected of our exalted appointments."

In a few moments they were upon the shore and found everything prepared in a manner which seemed to be fit even for Elena the Beautiful, but one thing did not please the fastidious taste of Ivan.

"Here, master," he said, "here is a peacock feather duster. Go and dust the railing of the pathway to the kingdom. And if you meet any persons in the avenue give them this letter."

The man at once went off to do the bidding of his journeyman, and was soon busily engaged in delicately dusting the golden railing of the bridge.

Meanwhile Elena the Beautiful arose, and drawing the curtains of her chamber which looked towards the sea saw the Kingdom of Gold lying like a shining island on the bosom of the deep blue waters. Her maids dressed her in a simple robe of white lawn, with a girdle of gold, and then she went to the Great White Tsar, who sat at breakfast with Golden Tress, and told him what she had seen across the sea. At once the mighty monarch sent out royal messengers and these men walked along the bridge until they met the shoemaker, who was busily engaged in the task which Ivan had set him. When they accosted him he did not cease his work, but taking a letter from his pouch handed it with his left hand to the men whose duty it would have been to hang, behead, and quarter him if it had not been for his wonderful assistant who could get everything done.

The men went away and brought the letter to the Great White Tsar just as he was beginning on toast and marmalade. He propped it up against the diamond teapot and read it as he finished his morning meal, and as he did so he made such strange exclamations that Golden Tress thought with concern that a crumb of toast must surely have gone down the wrong way.

Then he arose and ordered out the golden State coach for himself and Golden Tress, as well as a simple waggon of dark wood drawn by a small shaggy pony for the Golden Tsaritza, and in this way they came to the end of the bridge which led to the Kingdom of Gold, where stood Ivan with Peter on one side of him and Vasily on the other.

The Tsar frowned when he caught sight of his two elder sons, for Ivan's letter had told him all the truth, but as he looked Ivan embraced both of them as a sign that on this golden morning he could forgive any one.

The State carriage came to a stop, and Ivan ran forward to greet his parents, but hearing a low cry of gladness from the simple waggon behind he ran forward, lifted Elena the Beautiful to the ground, and leading her to his mother knelt to receive her blessing.

You have not paid much attention to the details of this story if you cannot imagine what followed; but even the most careful reader cannot measure the bliss of the lovers who had known that they loved each other since their first meeting without a word being spoken; and that is really a greater wonder than the magic feats performed by Lame and Crooked, when you come to think about it soberly.

As for Peter, he was married to the Silver Tsaritza, while Vasily wedded the Copper Tsaritza, and the shoemaker was made a general on the retired list, which meant that he had fine uniforms and a grand house, but was not expected to do any fighting. He was given a coat of arms by Golden Tress which bore three spirit kegs, as a reminder that he was to be a temperate man for the rest of his life, and for all I know, he really was.

VASILY THE TURBULENT

Peace had no charm for Vasily of Novgorod the Great, but where there was fighting to be done there he was at his best and happiest. Rest and ease had no attraction for him, but where the rover wandered there was the place of his journeying. His father, however, had lived in peace with the men of Novgorod the Great, and had died leaving to his widow and his only son a great store of treasure, a wide palace with a lofty tower, and a cellar full of green wine without price.

When Vasily had reached the age of seven years his mother sent him to learn to read and write, for she longed to curb his fiery spirit with the rein of reflection which learning places upon the violent; and Vasily, being of a determined disposition, applied himself to learning with a will so that he succeeded better than all the scholars who studied by his side. But reading and writing did not curb his fiery spirit, nor even church singing in which he also excelled, and he could pass from the cathedral and the singing of holy songs to noisy brawls in the city streets in which he cracked heads as if they were nuts. He was so strong and thoughtless that even his friends ran down side paths to avoid meeting him, for it was said that he had one day torn out a young man's arm in the act of shaking hands with him, and had stricken another to the ground by clapping him playfully upon the back.

As Vasily grew up his vigorous pranks began to terrify the good people of Novgorod, who came to his widow mother to beg for protection against her son. She was a peaceable, gentle lady, who was greatly alarmed at the strength which her son was developing, and she upbraided him with tears in her eyes.

"My son," she said, "why do you delight in going about the city making cripples? At your age your father had no treasure to speak of, but he had a band of brave bodyguards, and was a wise leader among men and a judge among the people of Novgorod the Great."

These gentle words displeased Vasily greatly, and instead of restraining him moved him to greater mischief. "Men shall speak of my might" he muttered as he left his mother, "and in after years shall boast even in Novgorod of the heroic deeds of their own townsman, aye, even if I crack hundreds of their own thick skulls for them. They will remember me when they have forgotten men of wisdom and of safe judgment." Then he proceeded to win his reputation.

He went up to his own room in the top of his lofty tower and sat down at the table to write on a scroll of parchment, but it was no psalm or cathedral hymn which the turbulent scholar wrote. It was an invitation to a feast and ran thus:

"Whosoever wishes to eat savoury viands ready to his hand and without cost to himself, as well as to drink green wine of priceless value and to wear embroidered robes of the best, let him come to the court of Vasily at once and instantly."

He wrote out this invitation many times and then gathering up the scrolls went to the open window. Here he fitted each of the parchments to a stout arrow and shot them into the city, which was about two miles away; and as the men of Novgorod came from church they gathered up these strange missives in the streets and lanes and broad paven courtyards. Many of them wondered, and they came together in groups gravely discussing the marvellous matter, until a priest came along from the church and read one of the scrolls which was attached to the arrow. Then the word buzzed round the town, "Vasily the Turbulent commandeth us to an honourable feast." And the men of Novgorod the Great thought that now their chance had surely come to pay off the long score against the man who troubled the peace of their trading city.

Meanwhile Vasily was making preparation for his guests, and he meant to use the occasion to select for himself a brave bodyguard. The test for admission to this very select and honourable company was to be so severe that Vasily would be perfectly sure of gaining protectors of the bravest. He rolled a great cask of green wine from the vaults and set it up in the middle of the banquet-hall, saying to himself, "Whoever shall lift in one hand a cup of this wine and shall drain it at one breath, and shall likewise stand upright after a blow from my cudgel of red elm, shall make one of my brave bodyguard." Then he went to his room in the top of the lofty tower and lying down upon his heroic bed of smooth planks slept the sleep of Ilya the Old Cossáck.

The next morning, very early, his widow mother paced the passages of her palace and chanced to look out upon the broad courtyard. To her surprise she saw that it was crowded with a great company of the men of Novgorod. In trembling haste she ascended the tall tower and roused her unruly son from his heavy sleep.

"Do you sleep, Vasily," she said, "and take your ease and care nothing for the peril which is even now at your gates? See, a company of angry men make your courtyard as black as a raven's wing."

The young man at once sprang to his nimble feet, grasped his great club of red elm in his white hands, and went out into the wide courtyard.

"Ho, there, Vasily the Turbulent," shouted some of the foremost of the guests. "We have come to your banquet and are determined to eat up all your stores of food, to drink up your green wine, to wear your embroidered robes, and then drag forth your golden treasures."

The tone of the acceptance of the invitation could scarcely be described as polite, and it roused the hot blood of Vasily the Turbulent. He leapt forth into the courtyard, grasped his club of red elm with a firm grip and began to brandish it. Wherever he swung it forward an open lane appeared among the crowd, and when he drew it backward he made an alley. Soon the men of Novgorod were lying in great heaps in the courtyard, while the rest went back to the town; and Vasily climbed once more to his chamber at the top of the tall tower.

After a while there came a black-browed handmaid to the door of the chamber, and calling Vasily outside she told him that the New Trader wished to join his bodyguard; and Vasily came down to the hall where the young man stood near the great vat of green wine. He was a comely youth with black curls upon a white brow, and blue eyes which looked ever into the distance, as if he sighted new lands afar off and cared not for the trodden ways. As soon as he saw him standing there proudly erect, Vasily advanced swiftly upon him, grasping his great club of red elm, and smote him a stunning, staggering blow. But the young man was neither stunned nor did he stagger. He stood firm under that heavy blow, the black curls upon his forehead did not move, and the wine from the full cup in his hand was not spilt.

"Is my strength waning?" cried Vasily in despair, and then as if to test it he raised the club again and brought it down upon a white and burning stone which lay at his feet. The hard stone was shivered to atoms and Vasily laughed grimly, as he turned to the New Trader.

"Drain off the green wine at a breath," he commanded, and the young man did so. "Hail, New Trader!" cried Vasily the Turbulent, "you shall be of my bodyguard from this day forward."

Then there entered the hall two young men of the town, one of whom was known as the Lame and the other as the Hunchback, and in spite of their infirmities these two stood the severe tests of Vasily and were admitted to his bodyguard.

In this strange manner did Vasily the Turbulent choose his brave bodyguard of three men only, three men and no more.

"Enter now my palace of white stone," said the hero, "and there we will feast on the best that my larders can afford; and while we eat together I will tell you how I shall entertain the men of Novgorod."

The four heroes sat down to the white tables and Vasily sat in the great corner. They were waited upon by the black-browed maiden, and when the meal was nearly over Vasily unfolded his plan for his next banquet. His bodyguard laughed gently as they heard of his purpose; and the next day they went out into Novgorod to invite the leading men to come and partake of the hospitality of Vasily the Turbulent. They came in a great crowd and found the tables prepared for a banquet, being filled with dishes and huge cups, but there was only one waiting-maid, the girl of the black brows, to attend upon this great company.

As soon as the guests were seated and Vasily had taken his place in the big corner, the black-browed maid brought steaming dishes and foaming tankards and placed them before her master and his bodyguard, but she placed neither food nor drink before the men of Novgorod, who were very hungry, for the wind was keen and the world was white. Now when the citizens saw that they were mocked by Vasily and his bodyguard, and even by the black-browed servant maid, they were spitefully angry and cursed their host and his men, but this only made the four jokers laugh the louder; whereupon the guests arose and crowded out into the snow-covered courtyard rather more hungry than when they came in.

"We will not forget this vile insult," piped one small citizen in a mantle of marten skins with a collar of sables; "why, my neighbour was full of spleen because of my invitation to the lord's castle, and when the story is known his pity and scorn will be much worse to bear than his spleen. But we shall repay Vasily in his own bad coin. Let us make such a feast as the citizens of Novgorod have never seen before, and we will not send Vasily an invitation."

"That is a good thought," said two stout citizens, and they all went home with their heads so high in the air that some of them slipped down on the way upon some slides that certain wicked boys--who would assuredly never grow up to be councillors--had made in the roadway. In a few days the feast was prepared and the invitations were issued, but there was no bidding for Vasily and his contemptible bodyguard.

It was impossible that the preparations for the banquet should escape the vigilance of Vasily, and indeed the merchants agreed that it would be well if he did hear of it. "Otherwise," said one of them, who had made a great fortune by buying and selling rags and bones, "how can he be humbled, for, look you, neighbours, if he does not know of the feast he will not miss our invitation."

"That is so," said the others, "that is indeed so, and true, and wise, and intelligent. Our friend must be the next Elder of Novgorod the Great."

So the servant maid of the rag-merchant told the servant maid of another trader, who told the black-browed maid at the castle, only to find that she knew all about it already, for her master had told her two days before.

"Mother," said Vasily that morning, "I shall go to the feast of the men of Novgorod."

"My dear child," said the old lady, "there is always room for the guest who is bidden, but none for the guest who is unbidden." But her gentle counsel placed no restraint upon Vasily who, when the time came, summoned his bodyguard and walked straight into the banquet-hall, asking no leave of the gatekeepers nor yet of the lackeys at the doors. He strode forward to the wall-bench in the great corner by the stove and sat down there to wait his turn to be served. No man present dared withstand him, and he glared down the table in such a ferocious manner that many of the citizens burnt their tongues by forgetting to blow upon their broth.

"Ah, well," said one of them, as he made a brave attack upon a great sirloin of beef, "Vasily may be here but he wasn't invited, while we were invited,--in fact I invited myself."

"Ah, yes," piped the small rag-merchant, who wore a coat of greater value than any, "we were invited but he wasn't." And with this consolation they went on with their feasting, Vasily being served as nobly as the rest with meat of the richest and wine of the greenest.

As the banquet went on the spirits of the citizens arose, and the small rag-merchant began to think that he might some day be bold enough to challenge even Vasily to mortal combat. As for the turbulent lord himself, he stood up when the merriment was at its height and issued a mighty challenge. He would go, he said, with his brave bodyguard on the following day to the bridge over the Volkof river, and would hold his own against all the men of Novgorod. Then he stalked from the room and across the snow-covered streets to his own palace.

At the doorway he was met by his widow mother, who noticed at once that he was aroused to turbulent anger. "Did they pass you with the dishes," she asked, "or did they jeer at you?" Vasily was too much moved to reply, but the bodyguard told her all the truth. Then the widow mother put her shoes upon her bare feet, cast her mantle of fine sables over her cold shoulders and went her way down, down into the deep vaults below the palace. There she heaped up a bowl with rich red gold, another with white silver, and a third with fine seed pearls; and having called the black-browed maiden, who came from her room with hair unbound and feet all bare, the two women crossed the white courtyard and passed along the silent streets until they came to the hall where the citizens were finishing their banquet.

The widow mother went forward to the great corner with the black-browed maid close behind her, and holding out the glittering bowls, said to the chief citizens:

"Hail, ye men of Novgorod! Forgive now the fault of Vasily my turbulent son."

But the citizens were now so filled with the courage born of rich food and green wine that they thought themselves superior to bribes, and with drunken scorn they refused the gifts of the peace-loving mother, and said with a great show of spirit:

"If we shall be able to take Vasily, we will ride his good steed, wear his embroidered garments, and take, but not as a gift, all his rich red gold, his white silver, and his fine seed pearls. We will pardon him freely when we shall have cut off his turbulent head."

Then the widow mother went home in great grief and sadness, scattering as she went upon the frozen snow the rich red gold, the white silver, and the fine seed pearls, saying to herself as she went, "Not these things are dear to me, but the turbulent head of my own dear son."

Now when she came once more to her own house she gave Vasily to drink of the cup of forgetfulness, led him down into the deepest dungeon, and locked him securely within. Then she went out into the stables and set his wild shaggy charger free to wander over the wide steppe, and taking his great cudgel of red elm, his sharp sword, and his coat of mail, she hid them where she thought no one would ever be able to find them.

Early the next morning Vasily's brave bodyguard took their stand at one end of the bridge over the Volkof river, and the men of Novgorod came against them in a great crowd. All that day they fought without pause for refreshment, and for a second day and a night and yet a third day without pause for taking breath. In the meantime Vasily slept and took his ease, knowing nothing of the straits to which his brave bodyguard was reduced. But as the black-browed maiden went to the stream for fresh water, with her buckets fastened on a maple yoke, she saw the fight by the bridge. Then she set down the buckets, and taking the yoke from her white shoulders entered into the fray and cracked the skulls of many more citizens than she could count. After that she ran quickly home, and coming to the door of Vasily's dungeon cried out:

"Do you sleep, Vasily, and take your ease? Up there upon Volkof bridge your brave bodyguard stand as prisoners of the men of Novgorod, their feet in blood, their heads broken with whips, and their hands bound with their own girdles."

"Open this pestilent door," roared Vasily, "and I will give you as much treasure as you desire in return for the displeasure of your mistress."

The black-browed maiden needed no bribe to urge her to obey. With one stout blow of her maple yoke she broke the heavy lock, whereupon she set her white shoulder against the door, which creaked and then gave way under her young strength. So Vasily came out once more into the white world, and as he could not find his warlike gear he wrenched the iron axle from a cart which stood in the empty stable, threw it over his shoulder and said, "I thank you, maiden, that you did not let my brave bodyguard perish. Hereafter I will repay you, but now I must not tarry."

"Haste, oh haste," said the black-browed maid, "and give no thought to reward for me. It is enough for me to be the handmaid of a man who loves a fight against odds."