Then Golden Tress was glad and embraced her son. “Now let us eat,” she said, “and then go home together. It is very wearisome here—for of what use is a throne of a single emerald if there are no people? What are fine couches and sideboards and flagons and furniture if there is no love?”
“Are there not even servants to wait upon you?” asked Ivan. “How are you served?”
“You will see in a moment,” was the reply. “Think of dinner.” So Ivan thought of the nicest dinner he could imagine—thick soup, white fish with pink sharp sauce, meat, potatoes and spinach with rich brown gravy, iced pudding and apples and nuts for dessert—and before he could have written out the list all these things were upon the sideboard where they kept hot until they were needed, all of course except the pudding which stayed outside upon the window-sill to keep cool.
But with all this there was no sound, not even the cheerful clatter of plates or the chink of a jug upon a tumbler, for the plates came floating singly through the air and settled down quietly before the diners, while the wine rose from the bottom of the glasses as you have seen it do at the conjuror’s. Ivan and his mother ate in silence, and the young man was surprised to find the meal somewhat disappointing. His lovely mother watched him closely with a wise smile upon her face. “When we get home,” she promised herself, “he shall have hot cakes fresh from the oven with plenty of butter and—I shall make them myself.” Then she laughed inwardly and sniffed gently through her delicate nostrils as if she smelt the kitchen smell of newly made bread and cakes, and that is better even than a throne of a single emerald or a couch with a cover of sable skins lined with softest silk from Samarcand.
When mother and son had rested for a while and talked of many things, Golden Tress enquiring particularly how the stoves were drawing in the palace of the Great White Tsar, the young man said, “Mother, let us go home now, for it is time, and besides, under the mountains my brothers are waiting for me. And on the way I must rescue three Tsaritzas who are living in the castles of Whirlwind the Whistler.”
In a short time mother and son were ready for the journey, and though the castle was full of untold treasure they carried away with them not even a diamond of the size of a pin point. But they carried as many linen sheets as they could bear, not for vanity of housewifery but for a useful purpose. After a long journey they came to the Golden Tsaritza, Elena the Beautiful, and led her forth, asking her to carry with her as many linen sheets as she could comfortably bear. In a similar manner they led forth the Silver Tsaritza and the Copper Tsaritza, and these also brought linen sheets for the device which Ivan had designed.
When they came to the top of the precipice they tore the sheets into broad strips, knotted them together, and made a long linen rope of them; and by means of this stout rope, one end of which they fastened to the trunk of a lofty pine which had seen the dawn of history, they let themselves down to the plain below, first the Copper Tsaritza, then the Silver Tsaritza, then the Golden Tsaritza, Elena the Beautiful, and last of all Golden Tress, the Tsaritza of the Great White Tsar.
Now the two elder brothers of Ivan were standing below, waiting and watching, and when they saw the lovely ladies step daintily one after the other upon the earth they said to each other:
“Let us leave Ivan up there and let us take the three lovely maidens and our mother to our father, and tell him that we rescued them from Whirlwind the Whistler.”
“Right and just,” said Peter quickly, “I will take the Golden Tsaritza, Elena the Beautiful, for myself, and you, Vasily, take the Silver Tsaritza for yourself, and we will give the Copper Tsaritza to some general.”