Quick, at the cry of herald And clattering of hoof, From door and wall and window, From balcony and roof, Black hung the crowd; with praises Did all the city ring— With praises for the warriors, With praises for the King:— So loud, the infant Gerda Was wakened from her sleep, And, writhing in her cradle, Forsooth began to weep, The while they praised her father Till all the air did ring, The while the people shouted, “Forever live the King!” [Illustration: There in the masonry, Black space and then a stairway.—PAGE 177.] II. All day it rained. The white doves Came not at Gerda’s call, To flock about the casement High up the palace wall, To coo ’neath her caresses, And plume their wings of snow, And pick the crumbs she scattered Upon the ledge below. It rained all day. The sunbeams Were weak and wan and rare— The beams that seven summers Had played with Gerda’s hair. All day it rained unceasing. The quaint old lofty room, For lack of bird and sunbeam, Was drear and full of gloom; And left among the shadows, The while the raindrops beat, With restless little fingers, With restless little feet, Went Princess Gerda roaming The quaint old room around, And thus behind the tapestry, It chanced, a picture found— A painting blurred and faded: Two men had fought, and one Lay vanquished, while the other, With foot his neck upon, A murd’rous weapon brandished Above the prostrate head. “Thou hateful, hateful fellow!” In anger Gerda said, And clenched her small fist straightway And smote the lifted hand. Lo! backward swung the picture, As tho’ a fairy’s wand Obeying; and before her, There in the masonry, Black space and then a stairway— So much did Gerda see. “Where does it go?” she wondered, And, no one being nigh, Into the darkness ventured, Nor waited for reply. Down, down, and ever downward, The granite steps led on; With now and then a winding, With ever and anon A pause, a narrow landing, But never ray of light. On, on, went little Gerda, And downward thro’ the night, Recalling wondrous stories The good nurse Hedvig told Of a strange realm and dreamlike, All paved and ceiled with gold, Where ruled the merry elf-king— A realm far underground, That a few favored mortals By patient search had found.