Thereupon he began to stride about upon the bridge, brandishing his axle, and the men of Novgorod fell in great heaps about him. At this the leaders drew off unobserved and went with the Elder at their head to the peace-loving widow mother, begging her to calm her wild son before he had completely wiped out all the citizens of Novgorod; but she said, “I dare not do that, you men of Novgorod, for I did him grievous wrong by confining him in a dungeon and sowing distrust of his valour in the hearts of his brave bodyguard. But my son has a godfather who is known as the Ancient Pilgrim, and who dwells in the monastery upon the hill. He is a man of discretion—for what can a woman do alone in such a strait? Ask him for help against my turbulent son.”
So the men of Novgorod with the Elder at their head went to the Ancient Pilgrim and told him all their trouble, at which he sorrowed greatly; and he made ready at once to leave the peace of his monastery and go with them to see what he could do. Now he was known as the Ancient Pilgrim, but he was really a great Russian hero who was spending some time in quiet, but who had known what it was in the earlier days to stand up against a host. Hearing that there was stern fighting going on, it came into his mind that he might possibly need protection, and having no armour or helmet at hand he climbed up very nimbly for an Ancient Pilgrim into the belfry, loosed the great service bell and put it upon his heroic head.
“This will serve me in good stead,” he said, “in the place where heads are being broken.” Then finding the clapper of the bell somewhat in his way, he detached it and used it as a staff; and as he stepped across the great drawbridge which led from the monastery it bent and groaned beneath his weight.
He walked straightway to Vasily and looked him squarely in the eyes. “My godson,” he said in a coaxing voice, “curb your heroic turbulence. Spare at least a few of these men to carry on the business of the town.”
These words added fuel to the fire within the breast of Vasily, and he replied:
“Hail, godfather! If I gave you no white peace egg at Easter yet take this red one from me on St. Peter’s Day.”
Then he heaved up the great axle and brought it down with a resounding clang upon the great service bell on the heroic head of the Ancient Pilgrim; and with that single blow the life of the hero of old time was ended. His staff now served Vasily for a new weapon, and he continued to strike down the men of Novgorod in dozens and twenties. The Elder and his companions kept carefully upon the outside of the throng, and when they saw the fall of the Ancient Pilgrim they went again to the widow mother and asked her to make intercession for them with her turbulent son.
So she dressed herself in a robe of black, threw a cloak of fine sables about her shoulders, set a helmet from her husband’s armoury upon her aged head, and went to plead with her son. She did not, however, as the Ancient Pilgrim had done, walk straight up to Vasily and look him squarely in the eyes; she crept up behind him and laid her trembling hands upon his mighty shoulders, entreating him to spare the men of Novgorod in his wild anger. And at the sound of her gentle voice Vasily dropped his arms, the bell clapper fell from his hands upon the lap of moist Mother Earth, and he said in a gentle voice:
“Lady mother, you are a cunning old woman and a wise one too. Well you knew how to break my power by coming at me from behind, for if you had approached me from before I should not have spared even you in my anger, so blinded was I with fury against these traders of Novgorod.”
The Elder and the councillors now took heart, and having conceived a tremendous respect for Vasily came forward and prayed that he would be their honoured guest at a banquet, where he should sit in the great corner and eat and drink of the best. Vasily consented to go with them, but he felt ill at ease at the banquet, for he was the only fighting man there and had no conversation for traders. So he slipped away from the feast as soon as he could, and went home to his widow mother and his brave body-guard; and he sat among them by the stove until long past midnight, talking of many things which had happened and of things which were to come.