“Now,” thought Ivan, “perhaps it will be all right.” But the point was not there.
Yelena the Wise barely looked in the mirror, and saw everything at once. “Stop, cunning fellow, I see thou hast gone into the giant pike, and thou art sitting now in the abyss of the sea beneath rolling sands; it is time to come to shore.” The pike swam to shore, threw out the good youth, and vanished in the sea.
Ivan returned to the broad court of Yelena the Wise, sat on the porch, and grew powerfully thoughtful and sad. At that moment the maid of Yelena the Wise ran up the stairway. “Why are thou sad, good youth?”
“How can I be glad? If I hide not the third time, I must part with the white world; so here I am sitting and waiting for death.”
“Grieve not; foretell no evil on thy own stormy head. Once I promised to serve thee; I spoke no empty word. Come, I will hide thee.”
She took Ivan by the hand, led him in, and put him behind the mirror. A little later Yelena the Wise ran to the chamber, looked and looked in the mirror. She could not see her bridegroom; the appointed time had passed. She grew angry, and with vexation struck the glass; it fell into fragments, and before her stood Ivan the brave youth.
There was no help for it,—she had to yield this time. At the house of Yelena the Wise there was no need of waiting to make mead or wine; that day they had a noble feast and a wedding. They were crowned, and began to live,—to live on and win wealth.