As soon as all was quiet Ivan took out his whistle and blew, whereupon Lame and Crooked appeared as before.
“What is your pleasure?” he asked, and the young Prince told him what was required.
“We obey!” said Lame and Crooked, who did not even ask for the precious stones from the Tsar’s treasury which the shoemaker had used to wipe out his score at the inn.
Ivan lay down to sleep, and when he awoke next morning he thought that the sun had risen two hours too soon for his room was filled with fiery golden light. But it was only the brilliance of the precious stones set in the dainty shoes on the table by his bedside. He jumped up, dressed himself in the light of the shining gems which shone not by reflected radiance, but from the depth of their glowing hearts. Then he picked up the dainty shoes, kissed them lightly, and took them to his master whom he roused with a shake.
“It is time to rise,” he said in the man’s ear.
“What!” cried the shoemaker, sitting bolt upright with a tremendous start. “Have they come for me? Bring me the keg quickly and draw the blind to keep out the light, which shines too cheerfully for a poor fellow who is to be hanged about ten o’clock. Here is a cup. Pour the spirits in. They shall hang me drunk.”
“But the shoes are made,” said Ivan quietly, looking at the man with amusement almost conquered by disgust.
“Made? How made? Who made them? Where are they? Can’t you draw the blind and keep out that silly light?”
Ivan drew the blind but the light was not thereby diminished, and now the bewildered shoemaker saw that the radiance came from the precious stones in the shoes which Ivan held in his hand.
The man rubbed his eyes in a dazed manner and then said, “They are made sure enough and look small enough even for Elena the Beautiful. When did we make them?”