“Caw! caw!” said he. “She sends you her compliments; and here is a roll for you. She took it out of the kitchen, where there is bread enough. 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 bedroom, and she knows where she can find the key.”
And they went into the garden by the large avenue, where one leaf after another was falling; and when the lights in the palace had all gradually disappeared, the Raven led little Gerda to the back door, which stood half open. Oh, how Gerda’s heart beat with 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 intelligent 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 will, no doubt, be glad to see you,—to hear what a long way you have come for his sake; to know how unhappy all at home were when he did not come back.”
Her heart thrilled with fear and joy.
They were now on the stairs. A single lamp was burning there; and on the floor stood the tame Raven, 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 Raven. “Your tale 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 something rushed past: it was like shadowy figures on the wall; horses with flowing manes and thin legs, huntsmen, ladies and gentlemen on horseback.
“They are only dreams,” said the Raven. “They come to fetch the thoughts of the high personages to the chase: ’tis well, for now you can look at them in their beds quite safely.”
They now entered the first room, which was of rose-coloured satin, embroidered with flowers. Here the dreams were rushing past, but they hastened by so quickly that Gerda could not see the high personages. One hall was more magnificent than the other; and at last they came to a bedroom. The ceiling of the room was like a large palm-tree, with leaves of costly glass; and in the middle of the floor two beds shaped like lilies hung from thick, golden stems. One was white, and in this lay the Princess: the other was red, and it was there that Gerda was to look for little Kay. She bent back one of the red leaves, and saw a brown neck—Oh, that was Kay! She called him quite loud by name, held the lamp toward him, he awoke, turned his head, and—it was not little Kay!
The Prince was only like him about the neck; but he was young and handsome. And out of the white lily leaves the Princess peeped, too, and asked what was the matter. Then little Gerda cried and told her her whole history, and all that the Ravens had done for her.
“Poor little thing!” said the Prince and the Princess. They praised the Ravens very much, and told them they were not at all angry with them, but they were not to do so again. However, they should have a reward.