“One must buy wit,” he growled. “Well, jump on my back, and I will see what I can do for you.”
Then he ran so swiftly that it seemed as though his feet were winged, and the elves and goblins that guarded the kingdom of Helen the Beautiful scattered before him in all directions, thinking him to be a specter. When he came to the golden streamlet that bordered the queen’s magic garden, he told Prince Ivan that he must now dismount.
“Go back by the road we came,” he commanded, “and wait for me in the shade of that spreading oak tree we passed just now.”
Prince Ivan did as he was told, and the Gray Wolf crouched under a bush of juniper, and waited until evening fell. As the light faded out of the sunset sky and the pale little moon rose slowly over the mountain-tops, Queen Helen walked in her garden. She was so fair and sweet to look upon that even the heart of the Gray Wolf was moved to admiration, and he wished her a worthier mate than the stern Tsar Afron, who knew not how to be gentle even in his love. After a while she approached the streamlet, winding round her dainty throat a cloud of milk-white gossamer, that she might not feel the touch of the evening breeze.
“Do not fear, sweet lady! I will not harm you!” the Gray Wolf cried, as he sprang from his hiding place and crossed the stream. Holding her tenderly by her flowing draperies, he leaped back to the other side, and galloped with her to the prince, who waited under the spreading oak.
When the queen and prince beheld each other, it was as if a veil had fallen from their eyes. Never had the world appeared so beautiful, and as they gazed at each other in the soft twilight, the queen’s fears fled. As for Prince Ivan, he knew from that moment that she was intended for his wife, and when they rode away together on the Gray Wolf’s back, he already felt that she belonged to him.
The journey was all too short, and soon Tsar Afron’s palace loomed before them.
“Why are you weeping?” the Gray Wolf inquired, as their tears splashed on his head. Queen Helen could make no answer, but Prince Ivan’s words poured forth like a raging flood.
“How can we help it, Gray Wolf,” he cried, “since we love each other, and I must resign my beautiful queen to the stern Tsar Afron, or else be branded before all nations as a robber and a thief?”
“I have kept my promise, Prince Ivan,” said the Gray Wolf, “and served you well, but I will do more for you still. By means of magic known to myself alone, I, the Gray Wolf, will take the form of beautiful Queen Helen. You shall leave the real queen here, in the shade of this grove of pine trees, and when you have taken Tsar Afron his strange wolf bride, who will appear to him as a lovely woman with golden hair, he will give you the gold-maned horse. Bid him farewell as quickly as you can, and, taking your queen behind you, ride swiftly toward the west. When I have given you time to journey far, I will ask Tsar Afron to let me walk with my maidens in the woods. Then, if you call me to your mind, I shall disappear, from their midst even as they watch me, and join you and your queen.”