The Princess and the Goblin by George MacDonald (best historical biographies txt) 📕

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 halfway 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 clumsy granite 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