Read The Snow Queen for Free Online Page B

pounds of it, on my longer journeys. It keeps well, and there’s nothing more nourishing.”
    â€œAnd what else?”
    â€œWhat else? Let me see.” The woman began to tick things off on her gloved fingers, beginning with her thumb. “Lamp wicks. You can’t have too many of those; you simply can’t get them out in the wilds. Candles, of course. Plenty of candles. And as to clothing — vests, drawers, petticoats, all of wool; eiderdown is best for your coat. Make sure it has a fur collar you can pull up, and sleeves long enough to cover your hands. In the cold weather I would wear a sheepskin over that, and finally a coat of reindeer skin. In those climes the last spring frost comes in the middle of June, and the first one of winter arrives before the end of August.”
    What a sight you must have looked, thought Gerda, imagining this plump little person in her three thick coats, one on top of the other.
    â€œNot to mention two pairs of thick stockings,” Madame Eriksson went on. By now she was on the fingers of the second hand. “Felt boots — the kind that come up over the knee. A fur-lined cap, and a few rugs and shawls won’t come amiss.”
    â€œI should never be able to afford to buy all those things,” sighed Gerda.
    â€œThen,” said her companion, “you’d do best to cut your visit short. Once the snows come, and the northern nights set in, you will find you need every bit of that, and more.” She rummaged in her bag, brought out a bottle of red wine and a loaf of black bread. “And in the summer, of course, you’ll do well not to be eaten alive.”
    â€œBy wolves?” asked Gerda, alarmed.
    â€œBy mosquitoes. You can run away from wolves. From the mosquitoes, there is no possibility of escape. Well, now, my dear,” she said, breaking off a piece of the bread and offering it to Gerda, “we have a good long trip ahead of us. Suppose you tell me what sends you off into the northern lands.”
    As the carriage rattled over the stones Gerda chewed on her crust, sipped wine straight from the bottle, and told her story. The wine was making her too sleepy to think of lies, and it seemed to her that this grandmotherly woman, with her kind, uncritical gaze, could be trusted with the simple truth.
    â€œWell,” said Madame Eriksson, when Gerda had finished, “I must say, I admire your enterprise. Though I’ve never yet met a man worth going to the ends of the earth for.” She looked at Gerda with kindly cynicism. “Ah yes, my girl, I see it in your eyes. You think this Kai of yours is different. Well, you’re young, you’re entitled to your illusions.” She held out her hand for the wine bottle. “I worry about you, though, traipsing off on your own into the wilderness, when you’re unaccustomed to travel.”
    â€œI will manage,” Gerda said, trying to keep her voice from trembling.
    â€œI doubt it,” the woman said. “No maps, no provisions, no money . . . ”
    â€œI have money,” said Gerda.
    â€œOh, I dare say — but it won’t be enough. Listen,” the woman said, “if I were ten years younger, I would be tempted to come with you. As it is — I have a friend who might be persuaded to help. This adventure of yours is just mad enough to appeal to her.”
    â€œHelp me? How?”
    â€œWell, let’s think what you need. Good advice, for a start. But then if you were one to listen to advice, you would not have come as far as you have. I expect the princess could easily spare a carriage and some warmer clothes. I propose that the two of us pay her a visit.”
    â€œShe’s not really a princess, is she?”
    â€œOh, every bit of it, her blood is as blue as my magnesia bottle. She’s a princess in her own right, in a nice little southern kingdom whose name I’ve forgotten. Married beneath her, you might say, for