was heavy affection, for at the weight of her hand the Terrible Tsar felt as if he were being pushed down bodily into the lap of moist Mother Earth.
"Is my hand heavy, my lord and master?" asked the bride sweetly.
"It is as heavy as a feather on the bosom of the summer lake," was the polite reply. "But, stay, my bride. I have to give an order to my brave troops." Then with a great effort he freed himself, and went out into the next room where Nikita was awaiting him.
"Ah, Nikita," said the Terrible Tsar in great distress, "what shall I do? The hand of my bride is heavier than the staff of Ilya of Murom."
Then Nikita put on his Cap of Darkness and went back into the room with the Terrible Tsar, and as often as Yelena laid her hand upon his master in affection, he stepped in the way and bore the weight of it. So they went on all the time that the Terrible Tsar stayed in the castle for the wedding festivity, which lasted for a week. But before the week was over Yelena the Haughty Beauty knew that her people were laughing at her because she had married a man whose strength was as nothing but who relied always upon Nikita; and she planned in her heart a terrible revenge.
"We have feasted enough," said the Terrible Tsar at the end of the festival week. "It is time for us to go homeward and we shall go by water."
So a glorious ship was prepared, and the bridal party went on board. The sails were set, and the
