slippers and stood in the doorway, was almost too proud even to be looked at."
"It must be awful!" said little Gerda, "and yet Kay has won the Princess.
"If I had not been a crow, I should have taken her myself, notwithstanding that I am engaged. They say he spoke as well as I could have done myself, when I speak crow-language; at least so my sweetheart says. He was a picture of good looks and gallantry, and, then, he had not come with any idea of wooing the Princess, but simply to hear her wisdom. He admired her just as much as she admired him!"
"Indeed it was Kay then," said Gerda; "he was so clever he could do mental arithmetic up to fractions. Oh, won't you take me to the Palace?"
"It's easy enough to talk," said the crow; "but how are we to manage it! I will talk to my tame sweetheart about it; she will have some advice to give us, I dare say, but I am bound to tell you that a little girl like you will never be admitted!"
"Oh, indeed I shall," said Gerda; "when Kay hears that I am here, he will come out at once to fetch me."
"Wait here for me by the stile," said the crow; then he wagged his head and flew off.
The evening had darkened in before he came back. "Caw, caw," he said, "she sends you greeting, and here is a little roll for you; she got it out of the kitchen where there is bread enough, and I dare say you are hungry! It is not possible for you to get into the Palace—you have bare feet; the guards in silver and the lackeys in gold would never allow you to pass. But don't cry, we shall get you in somehow; my sweetheart knows a little back staircase which leads up to the bedroom, and she knows where the key is kept."
Then they went into the garden, into the great avenue where the leaves were, softly one by one; and when the Palace lights went out, one after the other, the crow led little Gerda to the back door, which was ajar.
