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Poor Walter was very much troubled. He went in, however, and presented himself to the queen, who received him very graciously. He told her all that had happened, and learnt from her that she had bought Gertrude from the gipsies. But when he begged that she would let him take his dear little cousin away with him, she consented only on condition that the child herself should be willing, for Gertrude had become very dear to the old queen. So she called the little maid in, and said–

“Now look here, my child: this really is your Cousin Walter. Do you no longer love him, and will you not go away with him?”

The child looked at the knight from head to foot, and then said in a troubled voice–

“Since you both declare that it is Walter, I suppose I must believe it. Ah! if only he were still as little as he was a year ago, I would go into the wide world with him, wherever he wanted; but now, I never can. It would be no good, whilst he is like that. If I wanted to play hide-and-seek, as we used to do, his armour would shine, and his spurs rattle, and I should know where he was directly. If I wanted to go to school with him, he could not sit by me on the little benches at the little tables. Then what could a poor child like me do for such a stately knight? If I tried to work for him, I should burn my little hands; if I tried to make his clothes, I should prick my little fingers; and if I ran races with him, I should hurt my little feet. If I were a grown-up princess, indeed, it would be a different thing.”

Walter could not but feel that what Gertrude said was true. So he took leave of them both, mounted his horse, and rode away; but the queen and Gertrude watched him from the battlements of the castle.

He had not ridden many steps when a voice from a tree called “Walter! Walter!” and when he looked up, there was the raven, who said–

“A year has passed since you wished to be a knight. If you have another wish, speak, and it shall be granted; but observe, what you wished before will then be at an end.”

To these last words Walter paid no attention. The raven had no sooner said that he might have another wish than he interrupted it, exclaiming: “Then I wish Gertrude to be a grown-up princess!”

But even as he spoke he himself became a child again, and his horse a hobby-horse, just as they had been a year ago. But when he looked up to the battlements, there stood by the queen a wonderfully beautiful princess, tall and slim and stately; and this was–his Gertrude! Then the boy, taking his hobby-horse, went back up to the castle steps, and wept bitterly. But the queen was sorry for him, took him in, and tried to comfort him.

And now there was another trouble. Dearly as the Princess Gertrude and the boy Walter loved each other, they were not so happy as they should have been. If Walter said to her, “Come, Gertrude, and we’ll run races, and jump over the ditches,” she would answer, “Oh! that would never do for a princess; what would people say?”

If Walter said, “Come and play hide-and-seek,” Gertrude would answer again, “Oh! but that would never do for a princess; I should leave my train hanging on the thorns, and my coronet would be tumbling off my head.”

Then if Gertrude asked Walter to bring in some venison for the table, the boy would bring her a mouse instead; and if a bull or a mad dog came after them, Gertrude must snatch Walter up in her arms, and run off with him, for she was so much bigger than he, and could run a great deal quicker. Meanwhile he remained in the castle, and the boy became very dear to the old queen.

Another year passed by, and one morning Gertrude sat under a tree in the garden with her embroidery, whilst Walter played at her feet. Then, as before, a voice called out of the tree, “Walter! Walter!” And when the boy looked up, the raven was sitting on a branch, who said: “Now once more you may wish, and it shall be granted; but this is the last time, therefore think it well over.”

But Walter did not think long before he answered: “Ah! let us both be children all our lives long.”

And as he wished so it happened. They both became children as before, played together more happily than ever, and were of one heart and of one soul.

But when another year had passed by, and the children sat plucking flowers and singing together in the garden, an angel flew down from heaven, who took them both in his arms and carried them away–away to the celestial gardens of Paradise, where they are yet together, gathering the flowers that never fade, and singing songs so wondrously beautiful, that even the blessed angels hear with joy.