And there on the other side of the road was a fine palace, well carved and painted. A year's work had gone to the carving of every doorpost and window-frame. But in all the palace there was not one whole pane of glass.
"Landlord," says the soldier, "tell me what's the meaning of this? Why is a fine palace like that standing empty with broken windows?"
"It's a good enough palace," says the landlord. "The Tzar built the palace for himself, but there's no living in it because of the devils."
"Devils?" says the soldier.
"Devils," says the landlord. "Every night they crowd into the palace, and, what with their shouting and yelling and screaming and playing cards, and all the other devilries that come into their heads, there's no living in the palace for decent folk."
"And does nobody clear them out?" asks the soldier.
"Easier said than done," says the landlord.
Well, with that the soldier wishes good health to the landlord, and sets off to see the Tzar. He comes walking into the Tzar's house and gives him a salute.
"Your Majesty," says he, "will you give me leave to spend one night in your empty palace?"