CHAPTER 29 - Masonwork
He had all at once remembered the resolution of
the goblins to carry out their second plan upon the failure of the first. No
doubt they were already busy, and the mine was therefore in the greatest danger
of being flooded and rendered useless—not to speak of the lives of the miners.
When he reached the mouth of the mine, after
rousing all the miners within reach, he found his father and a good many more
just entering. They all hurried to the gang by which he had found a way into
the goblin country. There the foresight of Peter had already collected a great
many blocks of stone, with cement, ready for building up the weak place—well
enough known to the goblins. Although there was not room for more than two to
be actually building at once, they managed, by setting all the rest to work in
preparing the cement and passing the stones, to finish in the course of the day
a huge buttress filling the whole gang, and supported everywhere by the live
rock. Before the hour when they usually dropped work, they were satisfied the
mine was secure.
They had heard goblin hammers and pickaxes busy
all the time, and at length fancied they heard sounds of water they had never
heard before. But that was otherwise accounted for when they left the mine, for
they stepped out into a tremendous storm which was raging all over the
mountain. The thunder was bellowing, and the lightning lancing out of a huge
black cloud which lay above it and hung down its edges of thick mist over its
sides. The lightning was breaking out of the mountain, too, and flashing up
into the cloud. From the state of the brooks, now swollen into raging torrents,
it was evident that the storm had been storming all day.
The wind was blowing as if it would blow him off
the mountain, but, anxious about his mother and the princess, Curdie darted up
through the thick of the tempest. Even if they had not set out before the storm
came on, he did not judge them safe, for in such a storm even their poor little
house was in danger. Indeed he soon found that but for a huge rock against
which it was built, and which protected it both from the blasts and the waters,
it must have been swept if it was not blown away; for the two torrents into
which this rock parted the rush of water behind it united again in front of the
cottage—two roaring and dangerous streams, which his mother and the princess
could not possibly have passed. It was with great difficulty that he forced his
way through one of them, and up to the door.
The moment his hand fell on the latch, through all
the uproar of winds and Waters came the joyous cry of the princess:
'There's Curdie! Curdie! Curdie!'
She was sitting wrapped in blankets on the bed,
his mother trying for the hundredth time to light the fire which had been
drowned by the rain that came down the chimney. The clay floor was one mass of
mud, and the whole place looked wretched. But the faces of the mother and the
princess shone as if their troubles only made them the merrier. Curdie burst
out laughing at the sight of them.
'I never had such fun!' said the princess, her
eyes twinkling and her pretty teeth shining. 'How nice it must be to live in a
cottage on the mountain!'
'It all depends on what kind your inside house
is,' said the mother.
'I know what you mean,' said Irene. 'That's the
kind of thing my grandmother says.'
By the time Peter returned the storm was nearly
over, but the streams were so fierce and so swollen that it was not only out of
the question for the princess to go down the mountain, but most dangerous for
Peter even or Curdie to make the attempt in the gathering darkness.
'They will be dreadfully frightened about you,'
said Peter to the princess, 'but we cannot help it. We must wait till the
morning.'
With Curdie's help, the fire was lighted at last,
and the mother set about making their supper; and after supper they all told
the princess stories till she grew sleepy. Then Curdie's mother laid her in
Curdie's bed, which was in a tiny little garret-room. As soon as she was in
bed, through a little window low down in the roof she caught sight of her
grandmother's lamp shining far away beneath, and she gazed at the beautiful
silvery globe until she fell asleep.
CHAPTER 30 - The King and the
Kiss
The next morning the sun rose so bright that Irene
said the rain had washed his face and let the light out clean. The torrents
were still roaring down the side of the mountain, but they were so much smaller
as not to be dangerous in the daylight. After an early breakfast, Peter went to
his work and Curdie and his mother set out to take the princess home. They had
difficulty in getting her dry across the streams, and Curdie had again and
again to carry her, but at last they got safe on the broader part of the road,
and walked gently down towards the king's house. And what should they see as
they turned the last corner but the last of the king's troop riding through the
gate!
'Oh, Curdie!' cried Irene, clapping her hands
right joyfully,'my king-papa is come.'
The moment Curdie heard that, he caught her up in
his arms, and set off at full speed, crying:
'Come on, mother dear! The king may break his
heart before he knows that she is safe.'
Irene clung round his neck and he ran with her
like a deer. When he entered the gate into the court, there sat the king on his
horse, with all the people of the house about him, weeping and hanging their
heads. The king was not weeping, but his face was white as a dead man's, and he
looked as if the life had gone out of him. The men-at-arms he had brought with
him sat with horror-stricken faces, but eyes flashing with rage, waiting only
for the word of the king to do something—they did not know what, 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
stream overtook 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
gentlemen.'
'Yes, that we will, Curdie!' said the princess.
'And next summer we'll come back and see you wear it, Curdie's mother,' she
added. 'Shan't we, king-papa?'
'Yes, my love; I hope so,' said the king.
Then turning to the miners, he said:
'Will you do the best you can for my servants
tonight? I hope they will be able to return to the house tomorrow.'
The miners with one voice promised their hospitality.
Then the king commanded his servants to mind whatever Curdie should say to
them, and after shaking hands with him and his father and mother, the king and
the princess and all their company rode away down the side of the new stream,
which had already devoured half the road, into the starry night.
CHAPTER 32 - The Last Chapter
All the rest went up the mountain, and separated
in groups to the homes of the miners. Curdie and his father and mother took
Lootie with them. And the whole way a light, of which all but Lootie understood
the origin, shone upon their path. But when they looked round they could see
nothing of the silvery globe.
For days and days the water continued to rush from
the doors and windows of the king's house, and a few goblin bodies were swept
out into the road.
Curdie saw that something must be done. He spoke
to his father and the rest of the miners, and they at once proceeded to make
another outlet for the waters. By setting all hands to the work, tunnelling
here and building there, they soon succeeded; and having also made a little
tunnel to drain the water away from under the king's house, they were soon able
to get into the wine cellar, where they found a multitude of dead goblins—among
the rest the queen, with the skin-shoe gone, and the stone one fast to her
ankle—for the water had swept away the barricade, which prevented the
men-at-arms from following the goblins, and had greatly widened the passage.
They built it securely up, and then went back to their labours in the mine.
A good many of the goblins with their creatures
escaped from the inundation out upon the mountain. But most of them soon left
that part of the country, and most of those who remained grew milder in
character, and indeed became very much like the Scotch brownies. Their skulls
became softer as well as their hearts, and their feet grew harder, and by
degrees they became friendly with the inhabitants of the mountain and even with
the miners. But the latter were merciless to any of the cobs' creatures that
came in their way, until at length they all but disappeared.
The rest of the history of The Princess and Curdie
must be kept for another volume.