Day by day and week by week the year went round. Michael lived and
worked with Simon. His fame spread till people said that no one sewed
boots so neatly and strongly as Simon's workman, Michael; and from all
the district round people came to Simon for their boots, and he began to
be well off.
One winter day, as Simon and Michael sat working, a carriage on
sledge-runners, with three horses and with bells, drove up to the hut.
They looked out of the window; the carriage stopped at their door, a
fine servant jumped down from the box and opened the door. A gentleman
in a fur coat got out and walked up to Simon's hut. Up jumped Matryona
and opened the door wide. The gentleman stooped to enter the hut, and
when he drew himself up again his head nearly reached the ceiling, and
he seemed quite to fill his end of the room.
Simon rose, bowed, and looked at the gentleman with astonishment. He had
never seen any one like him. Simon himself was lean, Michael was thin,
and Matryona was dry as a bone, but this man was like some one from
another world: red-faced, burly, with a neck like a bull's, and looking
altogether as if he were cast in iron.
The gentleman puffed, threw off his fur coat, sat down on the bench, and
said, "Which of you is the master bootmaker?"
"I am, your Excellency," said Simon, coming forward.