“Well,” she said, “you have it?”
“Yes,” said I, “I have it.”
“Good,” said she. “The Prince’s friend has been here many times. He will come to-morrow. I will return to claim you afterward. Good.”
She rose, leaned on her stick, and nodding her head and grinning to herself hobbled out of the shop. My resolution to save myself from this outrageous creature became absolutely fixed.
The Button Is Sewed on with the Unicorn’s Hair
I drew out the black hair of the unicorn’s tail, and gave myself up to the pleasant task of sewing on the button. It was soon done, and it was well done. Nothing could be more secure. I placed the doublet under my pillow and went to bed.
In the morning I arose with a light heart. In order that the doublet might be near me, I put it on; and during the day three accidents proved its quality. First, a hot iron with which I was pressing my spangled coat slipped from my right hand and came down squarely on my left, and I felt no pain whatever. Next, a needle pricked my finger, and I was aware of no inconvenience. And last, as I was standing in the doorway, some wicked boys, with whom I was never a favorite, hurled a stone at me, striking me violently on the temple; but its effect was no more than that of a soft cushion. Undoubtedly the unicorn’s hair was the authentic thread.
At nightfall, after I had put up my shutters, I stored the doublet secretly away, and was making ready to go to bed, when a knock sounded at the door, and I admitted the Prince’s friend, smiling and gracious as before. He looked inquiringly at me. I bowed and smiled.
“Yes,” I said, “the work is done.”