The tailor was sitting cross-legged on the table, finishing a brocade doublet, when the lord himself, the owner of Saddle Castle and its surroundings, looked in on him.
“Good morning, tailor,” the lord greeted him. “I see you are still working on my camisole.”
“Excellent material, my lord,” replied the tailor, without taking his eyes off his work. “It’s a pleasure to sew from one of these.”
The lord had nowhere to rush, and, not knowing what to do with himself, he leaned against the door and began to watch the tailor sew.
- Did you hear that he appeared again at the monastery cemetery? - continued the talkative lord.
The tailor nodded.
“The devil himself,” added the lord.
The tailor nodded again.
Eh, the lord would go his own way and let him work in peace. He should only scratch his tongue, this lord!
That's what the tailor thought. But, of course, he didn’t say anything out loud.
“Yes, you can’t find such a brave soul who would dare to spend the night in a cemetery,” the lord continued.
The tailor mumbled something.
- Do you agree with me? - the lord continued.
“Really, I don’t know, sir,” answered the tailor. Then the lord took a heavy purse of gold coins from his pocket and shook it in the air.
- Do you want us to bet? - he suggested. - Otherwise you just sit and scribble. We bet you this purse of gold: you won’t spend the night in the cemetery working and have new pants ready by morning!
The tailor did not answer; he was biting off the thread at that time.
- Well, what do you say, tailor? - the lord did not retreat. - Shall we argue?
The tailor raised his head and looked straight at the lord.
“If you leave now and let me finish the camisole in peace, we’ll bet!”
His answer seemed to sound calm, but the tailor was seriously worried.
He was a poor man and was used to working for pennies. Just think, it’s a big deal to spend the night in a cemetery! But to get a whole wallet of gold for one pair of pants - yes! There's a lot to be excited about here.
That same evening, the poor tailor, having thrust a piece of cloth under his arm—enough to fill a pair of trousers—and stuffing scissors, thread, needles and a thimble into his pockets, went to the cemetery.
The night was dark and quiet. Not a soul around. But this did not frighten the tailor; he himself was a dark, quiet man. And I got used to loneliness.
Having reached the cemetery, he hardly opened the creaking iron gates, which then closed behind him with a roar. With such a roar that it was time for the dead to wake up, however, even here the tailor was not at all afraid.
He found a comfortable, wide gravestone and sat down like a tailor, crossing his legs. He placed a lighted candle nearby and, without wasting time, began sewing.
He was in a hurry and never even raised his head from his pants, and therefore did not see what was happening around him. It is quite possible that spirits and witches, led by the devil himself, staged their dance around him, because from time to time the candle flame wavered and squatted.
But the tailor had no time to look around. And there was no time to be afraid.
The first time he raised his head was when he made the last stitch and bit off the last thread. He blew out the candle, put his trousers under his arm, put the scissors, threads, needles and thimble in his pockets, rose with difficulty to his feet - they were completely numb from sitting for a long time on the hard stone - and hurried to Saddle Castle.
He was not greeted very warmly at the castle.
“The lord is sleeping,” they told him.
“Wake him up anyway,” the tailor ordered. — I brought him new pants.
The lord was very surprised to see the tailor safe and sound, and with new pants under his arm.
An agreement is an agreement! Only the lord didn’t really want to fulfill this agreement. And he said:
- I agree, I agree, the pants turned out pretty good. But how do I know that you sewed them exactly that night, sitting in the cemetery?
The tailor realized where the lord was pushing and said:
“And you go to the castle gates, my lord, and you yourself will see the devil there.” He was hot on my heels from the very cemetery, I barely managed to slam your gate in his face. Can you hear him making noise there?
And it was a strong wind. But the lord did not want to go to the gate; he preferred to take the tailor’s word for it.
- Well done! - he praised the tailor. What else could he do?
And he handed the tailor a heavy purse of gold in exchange for a pair of pants.
Translated from Russian · original on wisdomlib.ru