The Princess and the Goblin, George MacDonald [uplifting books for women .TXT] 📗

he scrambled to get up, his hand fell upon his pickaxe, and before the horrid beasts could do him any serious harm, he was laying about with it right and left in the dark. The hideous cries which followed gave him the satisfaction of knowing that he had punished some of them pretty smartly for their rudeness, and by their scampering and their retreating howls, he perceived that he had routed them. He stood for a little, weighing his battle-axe in his hand as if it had been the most precious lump of metal⁠—but indeed no lump of gold itself could have been so precious at the time as that common tool⁠—then untied the end of the string from it, put the ball in his pocket, and still stood thinking. It was clear that the cobs’ creatures had found his axe, had between them carried it off, and had so led him he knew not where. But for all his thinking he could not tell what he ought to do, until suddenly he became aware of a glimmer of light in the distance. Without a moment’s hesitation he set out for it, as fast as the unknown and rugged way would permit. Yet again turning a corner, led by the dim light, he spied something quite new in his experience of the underground regions⁠—a small irregular shape of something shining. Going up to it, he found it was a piece of mica, or Muscovy glass, called sheep-silver in Scotland, and the light flickered as if from a fire behind it. After trying in vain for some time to discover an entrance to the place where it was burning, he came at length to a small chamber in which an opening, high in the wall, revealed a glow beyond. To this opening he managed to scramble up, and then he saw a strange sight.

Below sat a little group of goblins around a fire, the smoke of which vanished in the darkness far aloft. The sides of the cave were full of shining minerals like those of the palace hall; and the company was evidently of a superior order, for everyone wore stones about head, or arms, or waist, shining dull gorgeous colours in the light of the fire. Nor had Curdie looked long before he recognized the king himself, and found that he had made his way into the inner apartment of the royal family. He had never had such a good chance of hearing something. He crept through the hole as softly as he could, scrambled a good way down the wall towards them without attracting attention, and then sat down and listened. The king, evidently the queen, and probably the crown prince and the Prime Minister were talking together. He was sure of the queen by her shoes, for as she warmed her feet at the fire, he saw them quite plainly.

“That will be fun!” said the one he took for the crown prince. It was the first whole sentence he heard.

“I don’t see why you should think it such a grand affair!” said his stepmother, tossing her head backward.

“You must remember, my spouse,” interposed His Majesty, as if making excuse for his son, “he has got the same blood in him. His mother⁠—”

“Don’t talk to me of his mother! You positively encourage his unnatural fancies. Whatever belongs to that mother ought to be cut out of him.”

“You forget yourself, my dear!” said the king.

“I don’t,” said the queen, “nor you either. If you expect me to approve of such coarse tastes, you will find yourself mistaken. I don’t wear shoes for nothing.”

“You must acknowledge, however,” the king said, with a little groan, “that this at least is no whim of Harelip’s, but a matter of State policy. You are well aware that his gratification comes purely from the pleasure of sacrificing himself to the public good. Does it not, Harelip?”

“Yes, father; of course it does. Only it will be nice to make her cry. I’ll have the skin taken off between her toes, and tie them up till they grow together. Then her feet will be like other people’s, and there will be no occasion for her to wear shoes.”

“Do you mean to insinuate I’ve got toes, you unnatural wretch?” cried the queen; and she moved angrily towards Harelip. The councillor, however, who was betwixt them, leaned forward so as to prevent her touching him, but only as if to address the prince.

“Your Royal Highness,” he said, “possibly requires to be reminded that you have got three toes yourself⁠—one on one foot, two on the other.”

“Ha! ha! ha!” shouted the queen triumphantly.

The councillor, encouraged by this mark of favour, went on.

“It seems to me, Your Royal Highness, it would greatly endear you to your future people, proving to them that you are not the less one of themselves that you had the misfortune to be born of a sun-mother, if you were to command upon yourself the comparatively slight operation which, in a more extended form, you so wisely meditate with regard to your future princess.”

“Ha! ha! ha!” laughed the queen louder than before, and the king and the minister joined in the laugh. Harelip growled, and for a few moments the others continued to express their enjoyment of his discomfiture.

The queen was the only one Curdie could see with any distinctness. She sat sideways to him, and the light of the fire shone full upon her face. He could not consider her handsome. Her nose was certainly broader at the end than its extreme length, and her eyes, instead of being horizontal, were set up like two perpendicular eggs, one on the broad, the other on the small end. Her mouth was no bigger than a small buttonhole until she laughed, when it stretched from ear to ear⁠—only, to be sure, her ears were very nearly in the middle of her cheeks.

Anxious to hear everything they might say, Curdie ventured to slide down a smooth part of