he prince himself
helped Gerda to step in, and the princess waved to her as she drove off.

But although Gerda was now a grand little girl, she was very lonely. The
coachman and footman in the scarlet and gold livery did not speak a
word. She was glad when the field raven flew to the carriage and perched
by her side. He explained that his wife, for he was now married, would
have come also, but she had eaten too much breakfast and was not well.
But at the end of three miles the raven said good-by, and flapping his
shiny black wings, flew into an elm. There he watched the golden
carriage till it could no longer be seen.

Poor Gerda was lonely as ever! There were gingernuts and sugar-biscuits
and fruit in the carriage, but these could not comfort the little girl.

When would she find Kay?

* * *

In a dark forest lived a band of wild robbers. Among them was an old
robber-woman, with shaggy eyebrows and no teeth. She had one little
daughter.

"Look, look! what is that?" cried the little robber-girl one afternoon,
as something like a moving torch gleamed through the forest. It was
Gerda's golden carriage. The robbers rushed toward it, drove away the
coachman and the footman, and dragged out the little girl.

"How plump she is! You will taste nice, my dear," the old woman said to
Gerda, as she drew out her long, sharp knife. It glittered horribly.
"Now, just stand still, so, and--oh! stop, I say, stop," screamed the
old woman, for at that moment her daughter sprang upon her back and bit
her ear. And there she hung like some savage little animal. "Oh, my ear,
my ear, you bad, wicked child!" But the woman did not now try to kill
Gerda.

Then the robber-child said, "Little girl, I want you myself, and I want
to ride beside you." So together they stepped into the golden carriage
and drove deep into the wood. "No one will hurt you now, unless I get
angry with you," said the robber-girl, putting her arm round Gerda. "Are
you a princess?"

"No," said Gerda, and she told the robber-girl all her story. "Have you
seen little Kay?" she ended.

"Never," said the robber-girl, "never." Then she looked at Gerda and
added, "No one shall kill you even if I am angry with you. I shall do it
myself." And she dried Gerda's eyes. "Now this is nice," and she lay
back, her red hands in Gerda's warm, soft muff.

At last the carriage stopped at a robber's castle. It was a ruin. The
robber-girl led Gerda into a large,