“It must have been terrible,” said little Gerda.  “And did Kay get the Princess?”

“Were I not a Crow, I should have taken the Princess myself, although I am engaged.  It is said he spoke as well as I speak when I talk crow language; this I learned from my tame sweetheart.  He was bold and nicely behaved; he had not come to woo the Princess, but only to hear her wisdom.  She pleased him and he pleased her.”

“Yes, yes, for certain that was Kay,” said Gerda.  “He was so clever; he could do sums with fractions.  Oh, won’t you take me to the palace?”

“That is very easily said,” answered the Crow.  “But how are we to manage it?  I’ll speak to my tame sweetheart about it; she can tell us what to do; for so much I must tell you, such a little girl as you are will never get leave to go in the common way.”

“Oh, yes, I shall,” said Gerda:  “when Kay hears that I am here, he will come out at once to fetch me.”

“Wait for me here on these steps,” said the Crow.  He wagged his head and flew away.

When it grew dark the Crow came back.  “Caw! caw!” said he.  “I bring you a great many good wishes from her; and here is a bit of bread for you.  She took it out of the kitchen, where there is bread enough, and you are hungry, no doubt.  It is not possible for you to enter the palace, for you are barefoot; the guards in silver and the lackeys in gold would not allow it:  but do not cry, you shall come in still.  My sweetheart knows a little back stair that leads to the chamber, and she knows where she can get the key of it.”

And they went into the garden by the broad path, where one leaf was falling after the other; and when the lights in the palace were all put out, one after the other, the Crow led little Gerda to the back door, which stood ajar.

Oh, how Gerda’s heart beat with doubt and longing!  It was just as if she had been about to do something wrong; and yet she only wanted to know if little Kay was there.  Yes, he must be there.  She called to mind his clear eyes and his long hair so vividly, she could quite see him as he used to laugh when they were sitting under the roses at home.  He would surely be glad to see her—­to hear what a long way she had come for his sake; to know how unhappy all at home were when he did not come back.  Oh, what a fright and what a joy it was!

Now they were on the stairs.  A single lamp was burning there; and on the floor stood the tame Crow, turning her head on every side and looking at Gerda, who bowed as her grandmother had taught her to do.

“My intended has told me so much good of you, my dear young lady,” said the tame Crow.  “Your Life, as they call it, is very affecting.  If you will take the lamp, I will go before.  We will go straight on, for we shall meet no one.”

“I think there is somebody just behind us,” said Gerda; and it rushed past her.  It was like shadows on the wall:  horses with flowing manes and thin legs, huntsmen, ladies and gentlemen on horseback.