"At last, you old rascal! I have you here with me! Now you shall see
my city and my fleet, which I have built myself, for you have taught
me. Bring the cabriolet here, boy! and a grapnel from the boat; we
will go, and tack about. Quickly!"
"Dear heart alive!" said the old man, picking the tobacco-ashes out
of his beard, "to think that I have seen the Carpenter-Czar before I
die; that is...."
"Into the cabriolet, old fellow! Boy, hang the grapnel behind. Where
are you to sit? On my knees, of course!"
The cabriolet had only room for one person, and the captain actually
had to sit on the Czar's lap. Three horses were yoked to it
tandem-fashion, and a fourth ran beside the leader. The whip
cracked, and the Czar played being at sea. "A good wind, isn't it?
Twelve knots! Furl the sheet! so!"
A toll-gate appeared, and the captain, who knew the Czar's wild
tricks but also his skill, began to cry "There is a toll-gate!
Stop!"
But the Czar, who had found again his youth with his old friend of
former times, and with his indestructible boyishness, liked
practical jokes and dangers, whipped on the horses, whistled and
shouted, "Let her go! Clear for action! Jump!"
The toll-gate was burst clean open, and the old man laughed so that
he swayed on the Czar's knees.
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