Clusters of white pillars rose in stately grandeur, surrounded with carved wreaths of leaves and flowers, looking as if formed of frozen snow in the blue waters; forests of ferns hung their delicate stone fronds in the shadowy depths; quaint shaped mushrooms and coral-like bushes grew here and there ’mid heavily fringed leaves of many a strange shape.
“Oh! may we go down there?” asked Hal.
“No,” replied Red Cap, “it would be death to mortals to go there; even fairies cannot enter; but they are allowed to bathe in the pools, or to dance with the gnomes on moonlight nights, when our King and Queen hold their court. Only the gnomes can enter the palace halls below the pool, and many strange sights and sounds are there, and it is hard work there for the gnomes, I can tell you. See,” went on Red Cap, “the King and Queen are away just now, and the gnomes are busy cleaning out the palace, and soon they will make the big fountain play, and fill the terrace baths afresh.”
“Where have the King and Queen gone?” asked Hal, “and shan’t we see them?”
“I think not to-night,” said Red Cap, “for they have gone to their summer palace over there,” and he pointed to the other side of the lake, where the children saw another terraced realm even more beautiful than the one they were on, being of a pale pink colour, like the tender flush of a warm sunset upon beds of snow, and over all the falling waters danced and gleamed.
“Are there as beautiful bathing places over there too?” asked Hal.
“Yes,” said Red Cap, “and there is a large bath with soft downy sides and floor in which mortals sometimes bathe. But they are seldom allowed to see into the depths of the huge cauldron at the top of this pink terrace, for, by the order of the King, soft clouds of steam cover it, which are rarely lifted. Some favoured ones who have looked into the boiling depths say the forests and beauteous flowery forms there are even more wonderful than those you see here at the entrance of the Winter Palace.”
“Oh! look!” cried Hal excitedly to Cis just as Red Cap ceased speaking; then, out of numberless small caves in the blue cauldron at their feet jumped hundreds of little black gnomes, having thick coats made out of sulphur cakes, and on their heads milky white helmets. Up from the blue waters they sprang, capering with wild delight round the edges of the cauldron and the numberless basins of the white terraces below, shouting, laughing, and then bursting ever and anon into wild chorus.
“’Tis done! ’tis done! our labour is o’er,