'There's such a lot of stones!' she said. 'It will take me a long
time to get them all away.'
'How far on have you got?' asked Curdie.
'I've got about the half away, but the other half is ever so much
bigger.'
'I don't think you will have to move the lower half. Do you see a
slab laid up against the wall?'
Irene looked, and felt about with her hands, and soon perceived the
outlines of the slab.
'Yes,' she answered, 'I do.'
'Then, I think,' rejoined Curdie, 'when you have cleared the slab
about
half-way down, or a bit more, I shall be able to push it
over.'
'I must follow my thread,' returned Irene, 'whatever I do.'
'What do you mean?'exclaimed Curdie.
'You will see when you get out,' answered the
princess, and went on
harder than ever.
But she was soon satisfied that what Curdie wanted done and what
the thread wanted done were one and the same thing. For she not
only saw that by following the turns of the thread she had been
clearing the face of the slab, but that, a little more than
half-way down, the thread went through the chink between the slab
and the wall into the place where Curdie was confined, so that she
could not follow it any farther until the slab was out of her way.
As soon as she found this, she said in a right
joyous whisper:
'Now, Curdie, I think if you were to give a great push, the slab
would tumble over.'
'Stand quite clear of it, then,' said Curdie, 'and let me know when
you are ready.'
Irene got off the heap, and stood on one side of it. 'Now,
Curdie!' she cried.
Curdie gave a great rush with his shoulder against it. Out tumbled
the slab on the heap, and out crept Curdie over the top of it.
'You've saved my life, Irene!' he whispered.
'Oh, Curdie! I'm so glad! Let's get out of this
horrid place as
fast as we can.'
'That's easier said than done,' returned he.
'Oh, no, it's quite easy,' said Irene. 'We have only to follow my
thread. I am sure that it's going to take us out now.'
She had already begun to follow it over the fallen slab into the
hole, while Curdie was searching the floor of the
cavern for his
pickaxe.
'Here it is!' he cried. 'No, it is not,' he added, in a
disappointed tone. 'What can it be, then? I declare it's a torch.
That is jolly! It's better almost than my pickaxe. Much better if
it weren't for those stone shoes!' he went on, as he lighted the
torch by blowing the last embers of the expiring fire.
When he looked up, with the lighted torch casting a glare into the
great darkness of the huge
cavern, he caught sight of Irene
disappearing in the hole out of which he had himself just come.
'Where are you going there?' he cried. 'That's not the way out.
That's where I couldn't get out.'
'I know that,' whispered Irene. 'But this is the way my thread
goes, and I must follow it.'
'What
nonsense the child talks!' said Curdie to himself. 'I must
follow her, though, and see that she comes to no harm. She will
soon find she can't get out that way, and then she will come with
me.'
So he crept over the slab once more into the hole with his torch in
his hand. But when he looked about in it, he could see her
nowhere. And now he discovered that although the hole was narrow,
it was much longer than he had
supposed; for in one direction the
roof came down very low, and the hole went off in a narrow passage,
of which he could not see the end. The
princess must have crept in
there. He got on his knees and one hand,
holding the torch with
the other, and crept after her. The hole twisted about, in some
parts so low that he could hardly get through, in others so high
that he could not see the roof, but everywhere it was narrow - far
too narrow for a
goblin to get through, and so I
presume they never
thought that Curdie might. He was
beginning to feel very
uncomfortable lest something should have
befallen the
princess,
when he heard her voice almost close to his ear, whispering:
'Aren't you coming, Curdie?'
And when he turned the next corner there she stood
waiting for him.
'I knew you couldn't go wrong in that narrow hole, but now you must
keep by me, for here is a great wide place,' she said.
'I can't understand it,' said Curdie, half to himself, half to
Irene.
'Never mind,' she returned. 'Wait till we get out.'
Curdie, utterly astonished that she had already got so far, and by
a path he had known nothing of, thought it better to let her do as
she pleased. 'At all events,' he said again to himself, 'I know
nothing about the way, miner as I am; and she seems to think she
does know something about it, though how she should passes my
comprehension. So she's just as likely to find her way as I am,
and as she insists on
taking the lead, I must follow. We can't be
much worse off than we are, anyhow.' Reasoning thus, he followed
her a few steps, and came out in another great
cavern, across which
Irene walked in a straight line, as
confidently as if she knew
every step of the way. Curdie went on after her, flashing his
torch about, and
trying to see something of what lay around them.
Suddenly he started back a pace as the light fell upon something
close by which Irene was passing. It was a
platform of rock raised
a few feet from the floor and covered with sheepskins, upon which
lay two
horrible figures asleep, at once recognized by Curdie as
the king and queen of the
goblins. He lowered his torch
instantly
lest the light should awake them. As he did so it flashed upon his
pickaxe, lying by the side of the queen, whose hand lay close by
the handle of it.
'Stop one moment,' he whispered. 'Hold my torch, and don't let the
light on their faces.'
Irene shuddered when she saw the
frightful creatures, whom she had
passed without observing them, but she did as he requested, and
turning her back, held the torch low in front of her. Curdie drew
his pickaxe carefully away, and as he did so spied one of her feet,
projecting from under the skins. The great
clumsygranite shoe,
exposed thus to his hand, was a
temptation not to be resisted. He
laid hold of it, and, with
cautious efforts, drew it off. The
moment he succeeded, he saw to his
astonishment that what he had
sung in
ignorance, to annoy the queen, was
actually true: she had
six
horrible toes. Overjoyed at his success, and
seeing by the
huge bump in the sheepskins where the other foot was, he proceeded
to lift them
gently, for, if he could only succeed in carrying away
the other shoe as well, he would be no more afraid of the
goblins
than of so many flies. But as he pulled at the second shoe the
queen gave a growl and sat up in bed. The same
instant the king
awoke also and sat up beside her.
'Run, Irene!' cried Curdie, for though he was not now in the least
afraid for himself, he was for the
princess.
Irene looked once round, saw the
fearful creatures awake, and like
the wise
princess she was, dashed the torch on the ground and
extinguished it, crying out:
'Here, Curdie, take my hand.'
He darted to her side, forgetting neither the queen's shoe nor his
pickaxe, and caught hold of her hand, as she sped fearlessly where
her thread guided her. They heard the queen give a great bellow;
but they had a good start, for it would be some time before they
could get torches lighted to
pursue them. just as they thought
they saw a gleam behind them, the thread brought them to a very
narrow
opening, through which Irene crept easily, and Curdie with
difficulty.
'Now,'said Curdie; 'I think we shall be safe.'
'Of course we shall,' returned Irene. 'Why do you think so?'asked
Curdie.
'Because my
grandmother is
taking care of us.'
'That's all
nonsense,' said Curdie. 'I don't know what you mean.'
'Then if you don't know what I mean, what right have you to call it
nonsense?' asked the
princess, a little offended.
'I beg your
pardon, Irene,' said Curdie; 'I did not mean to vex
you.'
'Of course not,' returned the
princess. 'But why do you think we
shall be safe?'
'Because the king and queen are far too stout to get through that
hole.'
'There might be ways round,' said the
princess.
'To be sure there might: we are not out of it yet,' acknowledged
Curdie.
'But what do you mean by the king and queen?' asked the
princess.
'I should never call such creatures as those a king and a queen.'
'Their own people do, though,' answered Curdie.
The
princess asked more questions, and Curdie, as they walked
leisurely along, gave her a full
account, not only of the character
and habits of the
goblins, so far as he knew them, but of his own
adventures with them,
beginning from the very night after that in
which he had met her and Lootie upon the mountain. When he had
finished, he begged Irene to tell him how it was that she had come
to his
rescue. So Irene too had to tell a long story, which she
did in rather a
roundabout manner, interrupted by many questions
concerning things she had not explained. But her tale, as he did
not believe more than half of it, left everything as un
accountable
to him as before, and he was nearly as much perplexed as to what he
must think of the
princess. He could not believe that she was
deliberately telling stories, and the only
conclusion he could come
to was that Lootie had been playing the child tricks, inventing no
end of lies to
frighten her for her own purposes.
'But how ever did Lootie come to let you go into the mountains
alone?'he asked.
'Lootie knows nothing about it. I left her fast asleep - at least
I think so. I hope my
grandmother won't let her get into trouble,
for it wasn't her fault at all, as my
grandmother very well knows.'
'But how did you find your way to me?' persisted Curdie.
'I told you already,' answered Irene; 'by keeping my finger upon my
grandmother's thread, as I am doing now.'
'You don't mean you've got the thread there?'
'Of course I do. I have told you so ten times already. I have
hardly - except when I was removing the stones - taken my finger
off it. There!' she added, guiding Curdie's hand to the thread,
'you feel it yourself - don't you?'
'I feel nothing at all,' replied Curdie.
'Then what can be the matter with your finger? I feel it
perfectly. To be sure it is very thin, and in the
sunlight looks
just like the thread of a
spider, though there are many of them
twisted together to make it - but for all that I can't think why
you shouldn't feel it as well as I do.'
Curdie was too
polite to say he did not believe there was any
thread there at all. What he did say was:
'Well, I can make nothing of it.'
'I can, though, and you must be glad of that, for it will do for
both of us.'
'We're not out yet,' said Curdie.
'We soon shall be,' returned Irene
confidently. And now the thread
went
downwards, and led Irene's hand to a hole in the floor of the
cavern,
whence came a sound of
running water which they had been
hearing for some time.
'It goes into the ground now, Curdie,' she said, stopping.
He had been listening to another sound, which his practised ear had
caught long ago, and which also had been growing louder. It was
the noise the
goblin-miners made at their work, and they seemed to
be at no great distance now. Irene heard it the moment she
stopped.
'What is that noise?' she asked. 'Do you know, Curdie?'