and nobody knew what.
The day before, the men-at-arms belonging to the house, as soon as
they were satisfied the
princess had been carried away, rushed
after the goblins into the hole, but found that they had already so
skilfully blockaded the narrowest part, not many feet below the
cellar, that without miners and their tools they could do nothing.
Not one of them knew where the mouth of the mine lay, and some of
those who had set out to find it had been overtaken by the storm
and had not even yet returned. Poor Sir Walter was especially
filled with shame, and almost hoped the king would order his head
to be cut off, for to think of that sweet little face down amongst
the goblins was unendurable.
When Curdie ran in at the gate with the
princess in his arms, they
were all so absorbed in their own
misery and awed by the king's
presence and grief, that no one observed his
arrival. He went
straight up to the king, where he sat on his horse.
'Papa! papa!' the
princess cried, stretching out her arms to him;
'here I am!'
The king started. The colour rushed to his face. He gave an
inarticulate cry. Curdie held up the
princess, and the king bent
down and took her from his arms. As he clasped her to his bosom,
the big tears went dropping down his cheeks and his beard. And
such a shout arose from all the bystanders that the startled horses
pranced and capered, and the
armour rang and clattered, and the
rocks of the mountain echoed back the noises. The
princess greeted
them all as she nestled in her father's bosom, and the king did not
set her down until she had told them all the story. But she had
more to tell about Curdie than about herself, and what she did tell
about herself none of them could understand - except the king and
Curdie, who stood by the king's knee stroking the neck of the great
white horse. And still as she told what Curdie had done, Sir
Walter and others added to what she told, even Lootie joining in
the praises of his courage and energy.
Curdie held his peace, looking quietly up in the king's face. And
his mother stood on the
outskirts of the crowd listening with
delight, for her son's deeds were pleasant in her ears, until the
princess caught sight of her.
'And there is his mother, king-papa!' she said. 'See - there. She
is such a nice mother, and has been so kind to me!'
They all parted
asunder as the king made a sign to her to come
forward. She obeyed, and he gave her his hand, but could not
speak.
'And now, king-papa,' the
princess went on, 'I must tell you
another thing. One night long ago Curdie drove the goblins away
and brought Lootie and me safe from the mountain. And I promised
him a kiss when we got home, but Lootie wouldn't let me give it
him. I don't want you to scold Lootie, but I want you to tell her
that a
princess must do as she promises.'
'Indeed she must, my child - except it be wrong,' said the king.
'There, give Curdie a kiss.'
And as he spoke he held her towards him.
The
princess reached down, threw her arms round Curdie's neck, and
kissed him on the mouth,
saying: 'There, Curdie! There's the kiss
I promised you!'
Then they all went into the house, and the cook rushed to the
kitchen and the servants to their work. Lootie dressed Irene in
her shiningest clothes, and the king put off his
armour, and put on
purple and gold; and a
messenger was sent for Peter and all the
miners, and there was a great and a grand feast, which continued
long after the
princess was put to bed.
CHAPTER 31
The Subterranean Waters
The king's harper, who always formed a part of his
escort, was
chanting a
ballad which he made as he went on playing on his
instrument - about the
princess and the goblins, and the
prowess of
Curdie, when all at once he ceased, with his eyes on one of the
doors of the hall. Thereupon the eyes of the king and his guests
turned thitherward also. The next moment, through the open doorway
came the
princess Irene. She went straight up to her father, with
her right hand stretched out a little sideways, and her forefinger,
as her father and Curdie understood, feeling its way along the
invisible thread. The king took her on his knee, and she said in
his ear:
'King-papa, do you hear that noise?'
'I hear nothing,' said the king.
'Listen,' she said,
holding up her forefinger.
The king listened, and a great
stillness fell upon the company.
Each man,
seeing that the king listened, listened also, and the
harper sat with his harp between his arms, and his finger silent
upon the strings.
'I do hear a noise,' said the king at length - 'a noise as of
distant
thunder. It is coming nearer and nearer. What can it be?'
They all heard it now, and each seemed ready to start to his feet
as he listened. Yet all sat
perfectly still. The noise came
rapidly nearer.
'What can it be?' said the king again.
'I think it must be another storm coming over the mountain,' said
Sir Walter.
Then Curdie, who at the first word of the king had slipped from his
seat, and laid his ear to the ground, rose up quickly, and
approaching the king said,
speaking very fast:
'Please, Your Majesty, I think I know what it is. I have no time
to explain, for that might make it too late for some of us. Will
Your Majesty give orders that everybody leave the house as quickly
as possible and get up the mountain?'
The king, who was the wisest man in the kingdom, knew well there
was a time when things must be done and questions left till
afterwards. He had faith in Curdie, and rose
instantly, with Irene
in his arms. 'Every man and woman follow me,' he said, and strode
out into the darkness.
Before he had reached the gate, the noise had grown to a great
thundering roar, and the ground trembled beneath their feet, and
before the last of them had crossed the court, out after them from
the great hall door came a huge rush of turbid water, and almost
swept them away. But they got safe out of the gate and up the
mountain, while the
torrent went roaring down the road into the
valley beneath.
Curdie had left the king and the
princess to look after his mother,
whom he and his father, one on each side, caught up when the
streamovertook them and carried safe and dry.
When the king had got out of the way of the water, a little up the
mountain, he stood with the
princess in his arms, looking back with
amazement on the issuing
torrent, which glimmered
fierce and foamy
through the night. There Curdie rejoined them.
'Now, Curdie,' said the king, 'what does it mean? Is this what you
expected?'
'It is, Your Majesty,' said Curdie; and proceeded to tell him about
the second
scheme of the goblins, who, fancying the miners of more
importance to the upper world than they were, had
resolved, if they
should fail in carrying off the king's daughter, to flood the mine
and drown the miners. Then he explained what the miners had done
to prevent it. The goblins had, in pursuance of their design, let
loose all the
underground reservoirs and
streams, expecting the
water to run down into the mine, which was lower than their part of
the mountain, for they had, as they
supposed, not
knowing of the
solid wall close behind, broken a passage through into it. But the
readiest
outlet the water could find had turned out to be the
tunnel they had made to the king's house, the
possibility of which
catastrophe had not occurred to the young miner until he had laid
his ear to the floor of the hall.
What was then to be done? The house appeared in danger of falling,
and every moment the
torrent was increasing.
'We must set out at once,' said the king. 'But how to get at the
horses!'
'Shall I see if we can manage that?' said Curdie.
'Do,' said the king.
Curdie gathered the men-at-arms, and took them over the garden
wall, and so to the stables. They found their horses in terror;
the water was rising fast around them, and it was quite time they
were got out. But there was no way to get them out, except by
riding them through the
stream, which was now pouring from the
lower windows as well as the door. As one horse was quite enough
for any man to manage through such a
torrent, Curdie got on the
king's white
charger and, leading the way, brought them all in
safety to the rising ground.
'Look, look, Curdie!' cried Irene, the moment that, having
dismounted, he led the horse up to the king.
Curdie did look, and saw, high in the air, somewhere about the top
of the king's house, a great globe of light shining like the purest
silver.
'Oh!' he cried in some
consternation, 'that is your
grandmother's
lamp! We must get her out. I will go an find her. The house may
fall, you know.'
'My
grandmother is in no danger,' said Irene, smiling.
'Here, Curdie, take the
princess while I get on my horse,' said the
king.
Curdie took the
princess again, and both turned their eyes to the
globe of light. The same moment there shot from it a white bird,
which, descending with
outstretched wings, made one
circle round
the king an Curdie and the
princess, and then glided up again. The
light and the
pigeon vanished together.
'Now, Curdie!' said the
princess, as he lifted her to her father's
arms, 'you see my
grandmother knows all about it, and isn't
frightened. I believe she could walk through that water and it
wouldn't wet her a bit.'
'But, my child,' said the king, 'you will be cold if you haven't
Something more on. Run, Curdie, my boy, and fetch anything you can
lay your hands on, to keep the
princess warm. We have a long ride
before us.'
Curdie was gone in a moment, and soon returned with a great rich
fur, and the news that dead goblins were tossing about in the
current through the house. They had been caught in their own
snare; instead of the mine they had flooded their own country,
whence they were now swept up drowned. Irene shuddered, but the
king held her close to his bosom. Then he turned to Sir Walter,
and said:
'Bring Curdie's father and mother here.'
'I wish,' said the king, when they stood before him, 'to take your
son with me. He shall enter my bodyguard at once, and wait further
promotion.'
Peter and his wife,
overcome, only murmured almost inaudible
thanks. But Curdie spoke aloud.
'Please, Your Majesty,' he said, 'I cannot leave my father and
mother.'
'That's right, Curdie!' cried the
princess. 'I wouldn't if I was
you.'
The king looked at the
princess and then at Curdie with a glow of
satisfaction on his countenance.
'I too think you are right, Curdie,' he said, 'and I will not ask
you again. But I shall have a chance of doing something for you
some time.'
'Your Majesty has already allowed me to serve you,' said Curdie.
'But, Curdie,' said his mother, 'why shouldn't you go with the
king? We can get on very well without you.'
'But I can't get on very well without you,' said Curdie. 'The king
is very kind, but I could not be half the use to him that I am to
you. Please, Your Majesty, if you wouldn't mind giving my mother
a red petticoat! I should have got her one long ago, but for the
goblins.'
'As soon as we get home,' said the king, 'Irene and I will search
out the warmest one to be found, and send it by one of the