I released myself, awkwardly enough, and as I did so I saw all the shadows up the street fall flat to the ground, as if they had been knocked over by a ball; and they began to slip swiftly away in every direction across the pavement. In an instant Skag, the old Ragpicker’s shadow, lay at the young woman’s feet. She screamed and shrank away, but in another instant the shadow’s shape was changed, and in its place on the ground was the shadow of the young woman herself. She clapped her hands with joy. _A Singular Commotion on the Housetops_ The shadows of the children were climbing the walls of the houses; and all of a sudden I heard a great clamor from the housetops, as of hundreds of children crying out together. “We can’t get down! Oh, I’m falling! Help! I can’t hold on! Oh, Mother! We can’t get down! I’m slipping! I’m going to fall! Hurry! Mother! Come quick!” I looked up, and there on the housetops, where the storks had been, children were clinging to the chimney pots, straddling the ridgepoles, hanging on to the gables, big children and little children, boys and girls, shrieking out at the top of their voices, and struggling to keep from toppling off into the street. One tiny boy suddenly disappeared down a chimney; a big girl lost her hold and rolled down the roof into a wide leaden gutter, where she hung, half on and half off. Dozens of boys and girls sat astride the ridgepoles, as if riding cockhorses. The big boys began to shout with glee, but the little ones were crying with fright; and at the hubbub all the doors flew open and all the fathers and mothers ran out, and when they saw what it was, a mighty shout went up, and it wasn’t a minute before a ladder stood against every wall, and not more than two minutes before all the children were safe on the ground, hugged up in their mothers’ and fathers’ arms, with such laughing and weeping and cheering as never were, I am sure, in this world before. “Oh, isn’t it wonderful!” cried the beautiful young woman. “I’m so glad, so glad!” “The Princess!” I cried. “Look at the Princess!” _The Princess Is Herself Again, but--_ She was her own lovely self again, and she was standing at the same place on the curb before the sorcerer’s house, and the sorcerer himself was standing beside her. The young woman and myself ran swiftly to her, and I shouted a joyous greeting as I approached; but to my surprise, she did not reply. She was standing perfectly motionless, with her eyes wide open, and one hand raised to her neck as if about to unfasten her necklace. On her shoulder, shown by the open neck of her dress, was a tiny spot of blood. The young woman kissed the sorcerer’s hand and thanked him. “But the Princess!” I cried. “What is the matter with the Princess?”