In this hall were many of the dwarfs assembled. All were simply clad, like the dwarf that had acted as guide to the Countess; all had grave, wise countenances and beaming eyes, dimmed now with anxiety and grief. As the Countess entered they bowed low, holding in their hands the little caps with the silver bells, which, by making them invisible, enable them to play many tricks on the human race. Now they arrived at the third room, which was the Queen's bed-chamber. At the ceiling of this room hovered a golden eagle with its wings outspread, and holding in its beak four diamond chains, on which the Queen's bed swung gently to and fro. The bed was a single gigantic ruby, skilfully cut, and on it rested on pillows of white satin the dying Queen of this enchanted realm. The stillness of death reigned in the place. Goldemar, the mighty dwarf-king, stood by the ruby couch, sunk in silent grief. His hair and beard, gleaming like silver, flowed down over his mantle of royal purple; he had taken the shining crown from his head and laid it at the feet of the dying Queen. His nobles stood in a wide circle round the King, and seemed to share his grief. The Countess went up to the couch. There, on pillows of white satin, rested the loveliest being that her eyes had ever beheld; she was smaller than her subjects, while her husband, on the contrary, exceeded them in stature; but her form was exquisitely symmetrical, and her tender limbs seemed formed of wax. Round her closed eyes and blanched lips the smile of youthfulness and kindliness still hovered, while her wondrous hair flowed round her whole form like liquid gold. The Countess bent silently over the dying Queen, listening for a breath, but in vain. Not a sound disturbed the solemn stillness. Only the golden eagle flapped his mighty wings, making a current of cool air through the lofty apartment, so that the rosy flames flickered in the crystal vessels, and threw a quivering reflection on the gilding of the walls and on the diamond crown at the dying Queen's feet. "It is too late!" thought the Countess; but she did as her little guide directed, laying one hand on the brow, the other on the breast of the dying Queen, and then awaited the result in anxious silence. Slowly and sorrowfully the moments passed by. The Countess was about to remove her hands, when she saw Goldemar's eye fixed on her in earnest entreaty, and she had not the courage to rob the sorrowing King of his last hope; so she let her warm hand remain a little longer on the rigid form. Suddenly, whether it was a reality or only her own fancy, a slight tremor seemed to move the delicate frame, then a second and a third time, and gently, very gently, the heart began to throb once more.