"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-Dress-maker. "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."
