Ivan stooped and stared. There at his feet lay a great round gold-piece as big as a peppermint-drop. In amazement he looked at the loaf in his hand. There was not a break anywhere. It was as smooth and whole as before. He bit again and again. Another gold-piece, and another, fell at his feet, as round and shining as the first. But the loaf remained unbroken.
Ivan’s eyes almost started from his head. In all his life he had never seen a gold-piece before; and whatever he should do with so many he had not the least idea. He might, of course, build a palace and live like a lord. But that would take him away from the sheep, and the King and Queen and Anastasia. On the whole, he decided he was much better as he was, where he could roll the gold-pieces down the hill and race after them to the bottom.
Then a splendid idea struck him. To-morrow was the Princess’ birthday. For a long time he had been wondering what he could give her. Here was just the thing! What could be better than a heap of the pretty gold-pieces to play with? He sat down at once, and bit and bit at the loaf till he had enough of them to fill his bag to overflowing. Bag, loaf, belt, and all, he hid in his hut at the edge of the forest. Then he ate his black bread and cheese and went back to his sheep, bounding over the boulders for sheer happiness.
As soon as the sheep were settled for the night, he ran to the hut again. Tying the magic belt about his waist, he took up the bag of gold-pieces and trudged off with them across the fields.
In the moonlight the palace towers rose straight and shining. Every window gleamed, darkly outlined. Ivan did not hesitate. He knew quite well which one he wanted. It was the window of the Birthday Room, where once every year all the servants and the shepherds were allowed to come to see Anastasia’s presents. To-morrow, he thought, with a catch of his breath, would be the day.
The bulky form of a guard broke the bright wall of the palace ahead. For an instant Ivan shrank back. Then with a smothered laugh he dashed across the grass, underneath the man’s very nose. The guard turned sharply. But there was no one to be seen. Palace and park lay bright and still in the moonlight.
Ivan had gained the palace wall. Just as he had remembered, a stout vine with the trunk of a small tree ran up the side to the very window of the Birthday Room. He tried it with his foot. It would not have held a man, but it could bear Ivan even with a bag of gold. Breathless, he climbed,—so fast that the vine had barely time to tremble before he was at the top. At his shoulder the casement of the Birthday Room stood ajar. With one tug he swung it open, and leaned across the sill.
Ivan gazed. On broad chests all about the room glimmered jewels and toys for the Princess; and in the doorway stood a guard, erect and silent, watching over them. Underneath the window, deep in shadow, was a low, cushioned seat.
