第1章

CONTENTS

1TheMountain2TheWhitePigeon3TheMistressoftheSilverMoon4Curdie’sFatherandMother5TheMiners6TheEmerald7WhatIsinaName？

8Curdie’sMission9Hands10TheHeath11Lina12MoreCreatures13TheBaker’sWife14TheDogsofGwyntystorm15DerbaandBarbara16TheMattock17TheWineCellar18TheKing’sKitchen19TheKing’sChamber20Counterplotting21TheLoaf22TheLordChamberlain23DrKelman24TheProphecy25TheAvengers26TheVengeance27MoreVengeance28ThePreacher29Barbara30Peter31TheSacrifice32TheKing’sArmy33TheBattle34Judgement35TheEndCHAPTER1

TheMountainCurdiewasthesonofPetertheminer。Helivedwithhisfatherandmotherinacottagebuiltonamountain，andheworkedwithhisfatherinsidethemountain。

Amountainisastrangeandawfulthing。Inoldtimes，withoutknowingsomuchoftheirstrangenessandawfulnessaswedo，peoplewereyetmoreafraidofmountains。Butthensomehowtheyhadnotcometoseehowbeautifultheyareaswellasawful，andtheyhatedthem—andwhatpeoplehatetheymustfear。Nowthatwehavelearnedtolookatthemwithadmiration，perhapswedonotfeelquiteaweenoughofthem。Tometheyarebeautifulterrors。

Iwilltrytotellyouwhattheyare。Theyareportionsoftheheartoftheearththathaveescapedfromthedungeondownbelow，andrushedupandout。Fortheheartoftheearthisagreatwallowingmass，notofblood，asintheheartsofmenandanimals，butofglowinghot，meltedmetalsandstones。Andasourheartskeepusalive，sothatgreatlumpofheatkeepstheearthalive：itisahugepowerofburiedsunlight—thatiswhatitis。

Nowthink：outofthatcauldron，whereallthebubbleswouldbeasbigastheAlpsifitcouldgetroomforitsboiling，certainbubbleshavebubbledoutandescaped—upandaway，andtheretheystandinthecool，coldsky—mountains。Thinkofthechange，andyouwillnomorewonderthatthereshouldbesomethingawfulabouttheverylookofamountain：fromthedarkness—forwherethelighthasnothingtoshineupon，muchthesameasdarkness—fromtheheat，fromtheendlesstumultofboilingunrest—up，withasuddenheavenwardshoot，intothewind，andthecold，andthestarshine，andacloakofsnowthatlieslikeermineabovetheblue—greenmailoftheglaciers;andthegreatsun，theirgrandfather，upthereinthesky;andtheirlittleoldcoldaunt，themoon，thatcomeswanderingaboutthehouseatnight;andeverlastingstillness，exceptforthewindthatturnstherocksandcavernsintoaroaringorganfortheyoungarchangelsthatarestudyinghowtoletoutthepent—uppraisesoftheirhearts，andthemoltenmusicofthestreams，rushingeverfromthebosomsoftheglaciersfreshborn。

Think，too，ofthechangeintheirownsubstance—nolongermoltenandsoft，heavingandglowing，buthardandshiningandcold。

Thinkofthecreaturesscamperingoverandburrowinginit，andthebirdsbuildingtheirnestsuponit，andthetreesgrowingoutofitssides，likehairtoclotheit，andthelovelygrassinthevalleys，andthegraciousflowersevenattheveryedgeofitsarmourofice，liketherichembroideryofthegarmentbelow，andtheriversgallopingdownthevalleysinatumultofwhiteandgreen！Andalongwithallthese，thinkoftheterribleprecipicesdownwhichthetravellermayfallandbelost，andthefrightfulgulfsofblueaircrackedintheglaciers，andthedarkprofoundlakes，coveredlikelittlearcticoceanswithfloatinglumpsofice。

Allthisoutsidethemountain！Buttheinside，whoshalltellwhatliesthere？Cavernsofawfullestsolitude，theirwallsmilesthick，sparklingwithoresofgoldorsilver，copperoriron，tinormercury，studdedperhapswithpreciousstones—perhapsabrook，witheyelessfishinit，running，runningceaselessly，coldandbabbling，throughbankscrustedwithcarbunclesandgoldentopazes，oroveragravelofwhichsomeofthestonesarcrubiesandemeralds，perhapsdiamondsandsapphires—whocantell？—andwhoevercan’ttellisfreetothink—allwaitingtoflash，waitingformillionsofages—eversincetheearthflewofffromthesun，agreatblotoffire，andbegantocool。

Thentherearecavernsfullofwater，numbinglycold，fiercelyhot—hotterthananyboilingwater。Fromsomeofthesethewatercannotgetout，andfromothersitrunsinchannelsasthebloodinthebody：littleveinsbringitdownfromtheiceaboveintothegreatcavernsofthemountain’sheart，whencethearteriesletitoutagain，gushinginpipesandcleftsandductsofallshapesandkinds，throughandthroughitsbulk，untilitspringsnewborntothelight，andrushesdowntheMountainsideintorrents，anddownthevalleysinrivers—down，down，rejoicing，tothemightylungsoftheworld，thatisthesea，whereitistossedinstormsandcyclones，heavedupinbillows，twistedinwaterspouts，dashedtomistuponrocks，beatenbymillionsoftails，andbreathedbymillionsofgills，whenceatlast，meltedintovapourbythesun，itislifteduppureintotheair，andbornebytheservantwindsbacktothemountaintopsandthesnow，thesolidice，andthemoltenstream。

Well，whentheheartoftheearthhasthuscomerushingupamongherchildren，bringingwithitgiftsofallthatshepossesses，thenstraightwayintoitrushherchildrentoseewhattheycanfindthere。Withpickaxeandspadeandcrowbar，withboringchiselandblastingpowder，theyforcetheirwayback：isittosearchforwhattoystheymayhaveleftintheirlong—forgottennurseries？

Hencethemountainsthatlifttheirheadsintotheclearair，andaredottedoverwiththedwellingsofmen，aretunnelledandboredinthedarknessoftheirbosomsbythedwellersinthehouseswhichtheyholduptothesunandair。

Curdieandhisfatherwereofthese：theirbusinesswastobringtolighthiddenthings;theysoughtsilverintherockandfoundit，andcarrieditout。Ofthemanyotherpreciousthingsintheirmountaintheyknewlittleornothing。Silverorewaswhattheyweresenttofind，andindarknessanddangertheyfoundit。Butoh，howsweetwastheaironthemountainfacewhentheycameoutatsunsettogohometowifeandmother！Theydidbreathedeepthen！

Theminesbelongedtothekingofthecountry，andtheminerswerehisservants，workingunderhisoverseersandofficers。Hewasarealking—thatis，onewhoruledforthegoodofhispeopleandnottopleasehimself，andhewantedthesilvernottobuyrichthingsforhimself，buttohelphimtogovernthecountry，andpaytheonesthatdefendeditfromcertaintroublesomeneighbours，andthejudgeswhomhesettoportionoutrighteousnessamongthepeople，thatsotheymightlearnitthemselves，andcometodowithoutjudgesatall。Nothingthatcouldbegotfromtheheartoftheearthcouldhavebeenputtobetterpurposesthanthesilvertheking’sminersgotforhim。Therewerepeopleinthecountrywho，whenitcameintotheirhands，degradeditbylockingitupinachest，andthenitgrewdiseasedandwascalledmammon，andbredallsortsofquarrels;butwhenfirstitlefttheking’shandsitnevermadeanybutfriends，andtheairoftheworldkeptitclean。

Aboutayearbeforethisstorybegan，aseriesofveryremarkableeventshadjustended。Iwillnarrateasmuchofthemaswillservetoshowthetopsoftherootsofmytree。

Uponthemountain，ononeofitsmanyclaws，stoodagrandoldhouse，halffarmhouse，halfcastle，belongingtotheking;andtherehisonlychild，thePrincessIrene，hadbeenbroughtuptillshewasnearlynineyearsold，andwoulddoubtlesshavecontinuedmuchlonger，butforthestrangeeventstowhichIhavereferred。

Atthattimethehollowplacesofthemountainwereinhabitedbycreaturescalledgoblins，whoforvariousreasonsandinvariouswaysmadethemselvestroublesometoall，buttothelittleprincessdangerous。MainlybythewatchfuldevotionandenergyofCurdie，however，theirdesignshadbeenutterlydefeated，andmadetorecoiluponthemselvestotheirowndestruction，sothatnowtherewereveryfewofthemleftalive，andtheminersdidnotbelievetherewasasinglegoblinremaininginthewholeinsideofthemountain。

Thekinghadbeensopleasedwiththeboy—thenapproachingthirteenyearsofage—thatwhenhecarriedawayhisdaughterheaskedhimtoaccompanythem;buthewasstillbetterpleasedwithhimwhenhefoundthathepreferredstayingwithhisfatherandmother。Hewasarightgoodkingandknewthattheloveofaboywhowouldnotleavehisfatherandmothertobemadeagreatmanwasworthtenthousandofferstodieforhissake，andwouldprovesowhentherighttimecame。Asforhisfatherandmother，theywouldhavegivenhimupwithoutagrumble，fortheywerejustasgoodastheking，andheandtheyunderstoodeachotherperfectly;

butinthismatter，notseeingthathecoulddoanythingforthekingwhichoneofhisnumerousattendantscouldnotdoaswell，Curdiefeltthatitwasforhimtodecide。Sothekingtookakindfarewellofthemallandrodeaway，withhisdaughteronhishorsebeforehim。

Agloomfelluponthemountainandtheminerswhenshewasgone，andCurdiedidnotwhistleforawholeweek。Asforhisverses，therewasnooccasiontomakeanynow。Hehadmadethemonlytodriveawaythegoblins，andtheywereallgone—agoodriddance—

onlytheprincesswasgonetoo！Hewouldratherhavehadthingsastheywere，exceptfortheprincess’ssake。Butwhoeverisdiligentwillsoonbecheerful，andthoughtheminersmissedthehouseholdofthecastle，theyyetmanagedtogetonwithoutthem。

Peterandhiswife，however，weretroubledwiththefancythattheyhadstoodinthewayoftheirboy’sgoodfortune。itwouldhavebeensuchafinethingforhimandthem，too，theythought，ifhehadriddenwiththegoodking’strain。Howbeautifulhelooked，theysaid，whenherodetheking’sownhorsethroughtheriverthatthegoblinshadsentoutofthehill！Hemightsoonhavebeenacaptain，theydidbelieve！Thegood，kindpeopledidnotreflectthattheroadtothenextdutyistheonlystraightone，orthat，fortheirfanciedgood，weshouldneverwishourchildrenorfriendstodowhatwewouldnotdoourselvesifwewereintheirposition。Wemustacceptrighteoussacrificesaswellasmakethem。

CHAPTER2

TheWhitePigeonWheninthewintertheyhadhadtheirsupperandsataboutthefire，orwheninthesummertheylayontheborderoftherock—marginedstreamthatranthroughtheirlittlemeadowclosebythedooroftheircottage，issuingfromthefar—upwhitenessoftenfoldedinclouds，Curdie’smotherwouldnotseldomleadtheconversationtoonepeculiarpersonagesaidandbelievedtohavebeenmuchconcernedinthelateissueofevents。

Thatpersonagewasthegreat—great—grandmotheroftheprincess，ofwhomtheprincesshadoftentalked，butwhomneitherCurdienorhismotherhadeverseen。Curdiecouldindeedremember，althoughalreadyitlookedmorelikeadreamthanhecouldaccountforifithadreallytakenplace，howtheprincesshadonceledhimupmanystairstowhatshecalledabeautifulroominthetopofthetower，whereshewentthroughallthe—whatshouldhecallit？—thebehaviourofpresentinghimtohergrandmother，talkingnowtoherandnowtohim，whileallthetimehesawnothingbutabaregarret，aheapofmustystraw，asunbeam，andawitheredapple。

Lady，hewouldhavedeclaredbeforethekinghimself，youngorold，therewasnone，excepttheprincessherself，whowascertainlyvexedthathecouldnotseewhatsheatleastbelievedshesaw。

Asforhismother，shehadonceseen，longbeforeCurdiewasborn，acertainmysteriouslightofthesamedescriptionasoneIrenespokeof，callingithergrandmother’smoon;andCurdiehimselfhadseenthissamelight，shiningfromabovethecastle，justasthekingandprincessweretakingtheirleave。Sincethattimeneitherhadseenorheardanythingthatcouldbesupposedconnectedwithher。Strangelyenough，however，nobodyhadseenhergoaway。ifshewassuchanoldlady，shecouldhardlybesupposedtohavesetoutaloneandonfootwhenallthehousewasasleep。Still，awayshemusthavegone，for，ofcourse，ifshewassopowerful，shewouldalwaysbeabouttheprincesstotakecareofher。

ButasCurdiegrewolder，hedoubtedmoreandmorewhetherIrenehadnotbeentalkingofsomedreamshehadtakenforreality：hehadhearditsaidthatchildrencouldnotalwaysdistinguishbetwixtdreamsandactualevents。Atthesametimetherewashismother’stestimony：whatwashetodowiththat？Hismother，throughwhomhehadlearnedeverything，couldhardlybeimaginedbyherowndutifulsontohavemistakenadreamforafactofthewakingworld。

Soherathershrankfromthinkingaboutit，andthelesshethoughtaboutit，thelesshewasinclinedtobelieveitwhenhedidthinkaboutit，andtherefore，ofcourse，thelessinclinedtotalkaboutittohisfatherandmother;foralthoughhisfatherwasoneofthosemenwhoforonewordtheysaythinktwentythoughts，Curdiewaswellassuredthathewouldratherdoubthisowneyesthanhiswife’stestimony。

Therewerenootherstowhomhecouldhavetalkedaboutit。Theminerswereamingledcompany—somegood，somenotsogood，someratherbad—noneofthemsobadorsogoodastheymighthavebeen;Curdielikedmostofthem，andwasafavouritewithall;buttheyknewverylittleabouttheupperworld，andwhatmightormightnottakeplacethere。Theyknewsilverfromcopperore;theyunderstoodtheundergroundwaysofthings，andtheycouldlookverywisewiththeirlanternsintheirhandssearchingafterthisorthatsignofore，orforsomemarktoguidetheirwayinthehollowsoftheearth;butastogreat—great—grandmothers，theywouldhavemockedCurdiealltherestofhislifefortheabsurdityofnotbeingabsolutelycertainthatthesolemnbeliefofhisfatherandmotherwasnothingbutridiculousnonsense。Why，tothemtheveryword’great—great—grandmother’wouldhavebeenaweek’slaughter！Iamnotsurethattheywereablequitetobelievethereweresuchpersonsasgreat—great—grandmothers;theyhadneverseenone。Theywerenotcompanionstogivethebestofhelptowardprogress，andasCurdiegrew，hegrewatthistimefasterinbodythaninmind—withtheusualconsequence，thathewasgettingratherstupid—oneofthechiefsignsofwhichwasthathebelievedlessandlessinthingshehadneverseen。AtthesametimeIdonotthinkhewaseversostupidastoimaginethatthiswasasignofsuperiorfacultyandstrengthofmind。Still，hewasbecomingmoreandmoreaminer，andlessandlessamanoftheupperworldwherethewindblew。Onhiswaytoandfromtheminehetooklessandlessnoticeofbeesandbutterflies，mothsanddragonflies，theflowersandthebrooksandtheclouds。Hewasgraduallychangingintoacommonplaceman。

Thereisthisdifferencebetweenthegrowthofsomehumanbeingsandthatofothers：intheonecaseitisacontinuousdying，intheotheracontinuousresurrection。Oneofthelattersortcomesatlengthtoknowatoncewhetherathingistruethemomentitcomesbeforehim;oneoftheformerclassgrowsmoreandmoreafraidofbeingtakenin，soafraidofitthathetakeshimselfinaltogether，andcomesatlengthtobelieveinnothingbuthisdinner：tobesureofathingwithhimistohaveitbetweenhisteeth。

Curdiewasnotinaverygoodway，then，atthattime。Hisfatherandmotherhad，itistrue，nofaulttofindwithhimandyet—andyet—neitherofthemwasreadytosingwhenthethoughtofhimcameup。Theremustbesomethingwrongwhenamothercatchesherselfsighingoverthetimewhenherboywasinpetticoats，orafatherlookssadwhenhethinkshowheusedtocarryhimonhisshoulder。Theboyshouldencloseandkeep，ashislife，theoldchildattheheartofhim，andneverletitgo。Hemuststill，tobearightman，behismother’sdarling，andmore，hisfather’spride，andmore。Thechildisnotmeanttodie，buttobeforeverfreshborn。

Curdiehadmadehimselfabowandsomearrows，andwasteachinghimselftoshootwiththem。Oneeveningintheearlysummer，ashewaswalkinghomefromtheminewiththeminhishand，alightflashedacrosshiseyes。Helooked，andtherewasasnow—whitepigeonsettlingonarockinfrontofhim，intheredlightofthelevelsun。Thereitfellatoncetoworkwithoneofitswings，inwhichafeatherortwohadgotsomespraystwisted，causingacertainroughnessunpleasanttothefastidiouscreatureoftheair。

Itwasindeedalovelybeing，andCurdiethoughthowhappyitmustbeflittingthroughtheairwithaflash—aliveboltoflight。

Foramomenthebecamesoonewiththebirdthatheseemedtofeelbothitsbillanditsfeathers，astheoneadjustedtheothertoflyagain，andhisheartswelledwiththepleasureofitsinvoluntarysympathy。Anothermomentanditwouldhavebeenaloftinthewavesofrosylight—itwasjustbendingitslittlelegstospring：thatmomentitfellonthepathbroken—wingedandbleedingfromCurdie’scruelarrow。

Withagushofprideathisskill，andpleasureathissuccess，herantopickuphisprey。Imustsayforhimhepickeditupgently—perhapsitwasthebeginningofhisrepentance。Butwhenhehadthewhitethinginhishandsitswhitenessstainedwithanotherredthanthatofthesunsetfloodinwhichithadbeenrevelling—ahGod！whoknowsthejoyofabird，theecstasyofacreaturethathasneitherstorehousenorbarn！—whenheheldit，Isay，inhisvictorioushands，thewingedthinglookedupinhisface—andwithsucheyes！—askingwhatwasthematter，andwheretheredsunhadgone，andtheclouds，andthewindofitsflight。Thentheyclosed，buttoopenagainpresently，withthesamequestionsinthem。

Andastheyclosedandopened，theirlookwasfixedonhis。Itdidnotonceflutterortrytogetaway;itonlythrobbedandbledandlookedathim。Curdie’sheartbegantogrowverylargeinhisbosom。Whatcoulditmean？Itwasnothingbutapigeon，andwhyshouldhenotkillapigeon？Butthefactwasthatnottillthisverymomenthadheeverknownwhatapigeonwas。Agoodmanydiscoveriesofasimilarkindhavetobemadebymostofus。Oncemoreitopeneditseyes—thenclosedthemagain，anditsthrobbingceased。Curdiegaveasob：itslastlookremindedhimoftheprincess—hedidnotknowwhy。Herememberedhowhardhehadlabouredtosetherbeyonddanger，andyetwhatdangersshehadhadtoencounterforhissake：theyhadbeensaviourstoeachother—

andwhathadhedonenow？Hehadstoppedsaving，andhadbegunkilling！Whathadhebeensentintotheworldfor？Surelynottobeadeathtoitsjoyandloveliness。Hehaddonethethingthatwascontrarytogladness;hewasadestroyer！HewasnottheCurdiehehadbeenmeanttobe！

Thentheundergroundwatersgushedfromtheboy’sheart。Andwiththetearscametheremembrancethatawhitepigeon，justbeforetheprincesswentawaywithherfather，camefromsomewhere—yes，fromthegrandmother’slamp，andflewroundthekingandIreneandhimself，andthenflewaway：thismightbethatverypigeon！

Horribletothink！Andifitwasn’t，yetitwasawhitepigeon，thesameasthis。AndifshekeptagreatManypigeons—andwhiteones，asIrenehadtoldhim，thenwhosepigeoncouldhehavekilledbutthegrandoldprincess’s？

Suddenlyeverythingroundabouthimseemedagainsthim。Theredsunsetstunghim;therocksfrownedathim;thesweetwindthathadbeenlavinghisfaceashewalkedupthehilldropped—asifhewasn’tfittobekissedanymore。Wasthewholeworldgoingtocasthimout？Wouldhehavetostandthereforever，notknowingwhattodo，withthedeadpigeoninhishand？Thingslookedbadindeed。Wasthewholeworldgoingtomakeaworkaboutapigeon—

awhitepigeon？Thesunwentdown。Greatcloudsgatheredoverthewest，andshortenedthetwilight。Thewindgaveahowl，andthenlaydownagain。Thecloudsgatheredthicker。Thencamearumbling。Hethoughtitwasthunder。Itwasarockthatfellinsidethemountain。Agoatranpasthimdownthehill，followedbyadogsenttofetchhimhome。Hethoughttheyweregoblincreatures，andtrembled。Heusedtodespisethem。Andstillheheldthedeadpigeontenderlyinhishand。

Itgrewdarkeranddarker。Anevilsomethingbegantomoveinhisheart。’WhatafoolIam！’hesaidtohimself。Thenhegrewangry，andwasjustgoingtothrowthebirdfromhimandwhistle，whenabrightnessshoneallroundhim。Heliftedhiseyes，andsawagreatglobeoflight—likesilveratthehottestheat：hehadonceseensilverrunfromthefurnace。Itshonefromsomewhereabovetheroofsofthecastle：itmustbethegreatoldprincess’smoon！Howcouldshebethere？Ofcourseshewasnotthere！Hehadaskedthewholehousehold，andnobodyknewanythingaboutherorherglobeeither。itcouldn’tbe！Andyetwhatdidthatsignify，whentherewasthewhiteglobeshining，andherewasthedeadwhitebirdinhishand？Thatmomentthepigeongavealittleflutter。’It’snotdead！’criedCurdie，almostwithashriek。Thesameinstanthewasrunningfullspeedtowardthecastle，neverlettinghisheelsdown，lestheshouldshakethepoor，woundedbird。

CHAPTER3

TheMistressoftheSilverMoonWhenCurdiereachedthecastle，andranintothelittlegardeninfrontofit，therestoodthedoorwideopen。Thiswasashehadhoped，forwhatcouldhehavesaidifhehadhadtoknockatit？

Thosewhosebusinessitistoopendoors，sooftenmistakeandshutthem！Butthewomannowinchargeoftenpuzzledherselfgreatlytoaccountforthestrangefactthathoweveroftensheshutthedoor，which，liketherest，shetookagreatdealofunnecessarytroubletodo，shewascertain，thenexttimeshewenttoit，tofinditopen。Ispeaknowofthegreatfrontdoor，ofcourse：thebackdoorsheaspersistentlykeptwide：ifpeoplecouldonlygoinbythat，shesaid，shewouldthenknowwhatsorttheywere，andwhattheywanted。ButshewouldneitherhaveknownwhatsortCurdiewas，norwhathewanted，andwouldassuredlyhavedeniedhimadmittance，forsheknewnothingofwhowasinthetower。Sothefrontdoorwasleftopenforhim，andinhewalked。

Butwheretogonexthecouldnottell。Itwasnotquitedark：adull，shinelesstwilightfilledtheplace。Allheknewwasthathemustgoup，andthatprovedenoughforthepresent，fortherehesawthegreatstaircaserisingbeforehim。Whenhereachedthetopofit，heknewtheremustbemorestairsyet，forhecouldnotbenearthetopofthetower。Indeedbythesituationofthestairs，hemustbeagoodwayfromthetoweritself。Butthosewhoworkwellinthedepthsmoreeasilyunderstandtheheights，forindeedintheirtruenaturetheyareoneandthesame;minersareinmountains;andCurdie，fromknowingthewaysoftheking’smines，andbeingabletocalculatehiswhereaboutsinthem，wasnowabletofindhiswayabouttheking’shouse。Heknewitsoutsideperfectly，andnowhisbusinesswastogethisnotionoftheinsiderightwiththeoutside。

Soheshuthiseyesandmadeapictureoftheoutsideofitinhismind。Thenhecameinatthedoorofthepicture，andyetkeptthepicturebeforehimallthetime—foryoucandothatkindofthinginyourmind—andtookeveryturnofthestairoveragain，alwayswatchingtoremember，everytimeheturnedhisface，howthetowerlay，andthenwhenhecametohimselfatthetopwherehestood，heknewexactlywhereitwas，andwalkedatonceintherightdirection。

Onhisway，however，hecametoanotherstair，andupthathewent，ofcourse，watchingstillateveryturnhowthetowermustlie。Atthetopofthisstairwasyetanother—theywerethestairsupwhichtheprincessranwhenfirst，withoutknowingit，shewasonherwaytofindhergreat—great—grandmother。Atthetopofthesecondstairhecouldgonofarther，andmustthereforesetoutagaintofindthetower，which，asitrosefarabovetherestofthehouse，musthavethelastofitsstairsinsideitself。

Havingwatchedeveryturntotheverylast，hestillknewquitewellinwhatdirectionhemustgotofindit，soheleftthestairandwentdownapassagethatled，ifnotexactlytowardit，yetnearerit。Thispassagewasratherdark，foritwasverylong，withonlyonewindowattheend，andalthoughthereweredoorsonbothsidesofit，theywereallshut。Atthedistantwindowglimmeredthechilleast，withafewfeeblestarsinit，anditslikewasdrearyandold，growingbrown，andlookingasifitwerethinkingaboutthedaythatwasjustgone。Presentlyheturnedintoanotherpassage，whichalsohadawindowattheendofit;andinatthatwindowshoneallthatwasleftofthesunset，justafewashes，withhereandtherealittletouchofwarmth：itwasnearlyassadastheeast，onlytherewasonedifference—itwasveryplainlythinkingoftomorrow。

ButatpresentCurdiehadnothingtodowithtodayortomorrow;hisbusinesswaswiththebird，andthetowerwheredweltthegrandoldprincesstowhomitbelonged。Sohekeptonhisway，stilleastward，andcametoyetanotherpassage，whichbroughthimtoadoor。Hewasafraidtoopenitwithoutfirstknocking。Heknocked，butheardnoanswer。Hewasanswerednevertheless;forthedoorgentlyopened，andtherewasanarrowstair—andsosteepthat，bigladashewas，he，too，likethePrincessIrenebeforehim，foundhishandsneedfulfortheclimbing。Anditwasalongclimb，buthereachedthetopatlast—alittlelanding，withadoorinfrontandoneoneachside。Whichshouldheknockat？

Ashehesitated，heheardthenoiseofaspinningwheel。Heknewitatonce，becausehismother’sspinningwheelhadbeenhisgovernesslongago，andstilltaughthimthings。Itwasthespinningwheelthatfirsttaughthimtomakeverses，andtosing，andtothinkwhetherallwasrightinsidehim;oratleastithadhelpedhiminallthesethings。Henceitwasnowonderheshouldknowaspinningwheelwhenhehearditsing—evenalthoughasthebirdofparadisetootherbirdswasthesongofthatwheeltothesongofhismother’s。

Hestoodlistening，soentrancedthatheforgottoknock，andthewheelwentonandon，spinninginhisbrainsongsandtalesandrhymes，tillhewasalmostasleepaswellasdreaming，forsleepdoesnotalwayscomefirst。Butsuddenlycamethethoughtofthepoorbird，whichhadbeenlyingmotionlessinhishandallthetime，andthatwokehimup，andatonceheknocked。

’Comein，Curdie，’saidavoice。

Curdieshook。Itwasgettingratherawful。Theheartthathadnevermuchheededanarmyofgoblinstrembledatthesoftwordofinvitation。Butthentherewasthered—spottedwhitethinginhishand！Hedarednothesitate，though。Gentlyheopenedthedoorthroughwhichthesoundcame，andwhatdidhesee？Nothingatfirst—exceptindeedagreatslopingshaftofmoonlightthatcameinatahighwindow，andrestedonthefloor。Hestoodandstaredatit，forgettingtoshutthedoor。

’Whydon’tyoucomein，Curdie？’saidthevoice。’Didyouneverseemoonlightbefore？’

’Neverwithoutamoon，’answeredCurdie，inatremblingtone，butgatheringcourage。

’Certainlynot，’returnedthevoice，whichwasthinandquavering：

’Ineversawmoonlightwithoutamoon。’

’Butthere’snomoonoutside，’saidCurdie。

’Ah！butyou’reinsidenow，’saidthevoice。

TheanswerdidnotsatisfyCurdie;butthevoicewenton。

’Therearemoremoonsthanyouknowof，Curdie。Wherethereisonesuntherearemanymoons—andofmanysorts。Comeinandlookoutofmywindow，andyouwillsoonsatisfyyourselfthatthereisamoonlookinginatit。’

ThegentlenessofthevoicemadeCurdierememberhismanners。Heshutthedoor，anddrewasteportwonearertothemoonlight。

Allthetimethesoundofthespinninghadbeengoingonandon，andCurdienowcaughtsightofthewheel。Oh，itwassuchathin，delicatething—remindinghimofaspider’swebinahedge。Itstoodinthemiddleofthemoonlight，anditseemedasifthemoonlighthadnearlymelteditaway。Astepnearer，hesaw，withastart，twolittlehandsatworkwithit。Andthenatlast，intheshadowontheothersideofthemoonlightwhichcamelikesilverbetween，hesawtheformtowhichthehandsbelonged：asmallwitheredcreature，sooldthatnoagewouldhaveseemedtoogreattowriteunderherpicture，seatedonastoolbeyondthespinningwheel，whichlookedverylargebesideher，but，asIsaid，verythin，likealong—leggedspiderholdingupitsownweb，whichwastheroundwheelitselfShesatcrumpledtogether，afilmythingthatitseemedapuffwouldblowaway，morelikethebodyofaflythebigspiderhadsuckedemptyandlefthanginginhisweb，thananythingelseIcanthinkof。

WhenCurdiesawher，hestoodstillagain，agooddealinwonder，averylittleinreverence，alittleindoubt，and，Imustadd，alittleinamusementattheoddlookoftheoldmarvel。Hergreyhairmixedwiththemoonlightsothathecouldnottellwheretheonebeganandtheotherended。Hercrookedbackbentforwardoverherchest，hershouldersnearlyswallowedupherheadbetweenthem，andhertwolittlehandswerejustlikethegreyclawsofahen，scratchingatthethread，whichtoCurdiewasofcourseinvisibleacrossthemoonlight。IndeedCurdielaughedwithinhimself，justalittle，atthesight;andwhenhethoughtofhowtheprincessusedtotalkaboutherhuge，great，oldgrandmother，helaughedmore。Butthatmomentthelittleladyleanedforwardintothemoonlight，andCurdiecaughtaglimpseofhereyes，andallthelaughwentoutofhim。

’Whatdoyoucomeherefor，Curdie？’shesaid，asgentlyasbefore。

ThenCurdierememberedthathestoodthereasaculprit，andworstofall，asonewhohadhisconfessionyettomake。Therewasnotimetohesitateoverit。

’Oh，ma’am！Seehere，’hesaid，andadvancedasteportwo，holdingoutthepigeon。

’Whathaveyougotthere？’sheasked。

AgainCurdieadvancedafewsteps，andheldouthishandwiththepigeon，thatshemightseewhatitwas，intothemoonlight。Themomenttheraysfelluponitthepigeongaveafaintflutter。Theoldladyputoutheroldhandsandtookit，andheldittoherbosom，androckedit，murmuringoveritasifitwereasickbaby。

WhenCurdiesawhowdistressedshewashegrewsorrierstill，andsaid：

’Ididn’tmeantodoanyharm，ma’am。Ididn’tthinkofitsbeingyours。’

’Ah，Curdie！Ifitweren’tmine，whatwouldbecomeofitnow？’shereturned。’Yousayyoudidn’tmeananyharm：didyoumeananygood，Curdie？’

’No，’answeredCurdie。

’Remember，then，thatwhoeverdoesnotmeangoodisalwaysindangerofharm。ButItrytogiveeverybodyfairplay;andthosethatareinthewrongareinfarmoreneedofitalwaysthanthosewhoareintheright：theycanaffordtodowithoutit。ThereforeIsayforyouthatwhenyoushotthatarrowyoudidnotknowwhatapigeonis。Nowthatyoudoknow，youaresorry。Itisverydangeroustodothingsyoudon’tknowabout。’

’But，please，ma’am—Idon’tmeantoberudeortocontradictyou，’saidCurdie，’butifabodywasnevertodoanythingbutwhatheknewtobegood，hewouldhavetolivehalfhistimedoingnothing。’

’Thereyouaremuchmistaken，’saidtheoldquaveringvoice。’Howlittleyoumusthavethought！Why，youdon’tseemeventoknowthegoodofthethingsyouareconstantlydoing。Nowdon’tmistakeme。

Idon’tmeanyouaregoodfordoingthem。Itisagoodthingtoeatyourbreakfast，butyoudon’tfancyit’sverygoodofyoutodoit。Thethingisgood，notyou。’

Curdielaughed。

’Thereareagreatmanymoregoodthingsthanbadthingstodo。

Nowtellmewhatbadthingyouhavedonetodaybesidesthissorehurttomylittlewhitefriend。’

WhileshetalkedCurdiehadsunkintoasortofreverie，inwhichhehardlyknewwhetheritwastheoldladyorhisownheartthatspoke。Andwhensheaskedhimthatquestion，hewasatfirstmuchinclinedtoconsiderhimselfaverygoodfellowonthewhole。’I

reallydon’tthinkIdidanythingelsethatwasverybadallday，’

hesaidtohimself。Butatthesametimehecouldnothonestlyfeelthathewasworthstandingupfor。Allatoncealightseemedtobreakinuponhismind，andhewokeupandtherewasthewitheredlittleatomyoftheoldladyontheothersideofthemoonlight，andtherewasthespinningwheelsingingonandoninthemiddleofit！

’Iknownow，ma’am;Iunderstandnow，’hesaid。’Thankyou，ma’am，forspinningitintomewithyourwheel。IseenowthatIhavebeendoingwrongthewholeday，andsuchamanydaysbesides！

Indeed，Idon’tknowwhenIeverdidright，andyetitseemsasifIhaddonerightsometimeandhadforgottenhow。WhenIkilledyourbirdIdidnotknowIwasdoingwrong，justbecauseIwasalwaysdoingwrong，andthewronghadsoakedallthroughme。’

’Whatwrongwereyoudoingallday，Curdie？Itisbettertocometothepoint，youknow，’saidtheoldlady，andhervoicewasgentlereventhanbefore。

’Iwasdoingthewrongofneverwantingortryingtobebetter。

AndnowIseethatIhavebeenlettingthingsgoastheywouldforalongtime。WhatevercameintomyheadIdid，andwhateverdidn’tcomeintomyheadIdidn’tdo。Ineversentanythingaway，andneverlookedoutforanythingtocome。Ihaven’tbeenattendingtomymother—ormyfathereither。AndnowIthinkofit，IknowI

haveoftenseenthemlookingtroubled，andIhaveneveraskedthemwhatwasthematter。AndnowIsee，too，thatIdidnotaskbecauseIsuspectedithadsomethingtodowithmeandmybehaviour，anddidn’twanttohearthetruth。AndIknowIhavebeengrumblingatmywork，anddoingahundredotherthingsthatarewrong。’

’Youhavegotit，Curdie，’saidtheoldlady，inavoicethatsoundedalmostasifshehadbeencrying。’Whenpeopledon’tcaretobebettertheymustbedoingeverythingwrong。Iamsogladyoushotmybird！’

’Ma’am！’exclaimedCurdie。’Howcanyoube？’

’Becauseithasbroughtyoutoseewhatsortyouwerewhenyoudidit，andwhatsortyouwillgrowtobeagain，onlyworse，ifyoudon’tmind。Nowthatyouaresorry，mypoorbirdwillbebetter。

Lookup，mydovey。’

Thepigeongaveaflutter，andspreadoutoneofitsred—spottedwingsacrosstheoldwoman’sbosom。

’Iwillmendthelittleangel，’shesaid，’andinaweekortwoitwillbeflyingagain。Soyoumayeaseyourheartaboutthepigeon。’

’Oh，thankyou！Thankyou！’criedCurdie。’Idon’tknowhowtothankyou。’

’ThenIwilltellyou。ThereisonlyonewayIcarefor。Dobetter，andgrowbetter，andbebetter。Andneverkillanythingwithoutagoodreasonforit。’

’Ma’am，Iwillgoandfetchmybowandarrows，andyoushallburnthemyourself。’

’Ihavenofirethatwouldburnyourbowandarrows，Curdie。’

’ThenIpromiseyoutoburnthemallundermymother’sporridgepottomorrowmorning。’

’No，no，Curdie。Keepthem，andpracticewiththemeveryday，andgrowagoodshot。Thereareplentyofbadthingsthatwantkilling，andadaywillcomewhentheywillproveuseful。ButI

mustseefirstwhetheryouwilldoasItellyou。’

’ThatIwill！’saidCurdie。’Whatisit，ma’am？’

’Onlysomethingnottodo，’answeredtheoldlady;’ifyoushouldhearanyonespeakaboutme，nevertolaughormakefunofme。’

’Oh，ma’am！’exclaimedCurdie，shockedthatsheshouldthinksucharequestneedful。

’Stop，stop，’shewenton。’Peoplehereaboutsometimestellveryoddandinfactridiculousstoriesofanoldwomanwhowatcheswhatisgoingon，andoccasionallyinterferes。Theymeanme，thoughwhattheysayisoftengreatnonsense。NowwhatIwantofyouisnottolaugh，orsidewiththeminanyway;becausetheywilltakethattomeanthatyoudon’tbelievethereisanysuchpersonabitmorethantheydo。Nowthatwouldnotbethecase—wouldit，Curdie？’

’No，indeed，ma’am。I’veseenyou。’

Theoldwomansmiledveryoddly。

’Yes，you’veseenme，’shesaid。’Butmind，’shecontinued，’I

don’twantyoutosayanything—onlytoholdyourtongue，andnotseemtosidewiththem。’

’Thatwillbeeasy，’saidCurdie，’nowthatI’veseenyouwithmyveryowneyes，ma’am。’

’Notsoeasyasyouthink，perhaps，’saidtheoldlady，withanothercurioussmile。’Iwanttobeyourfriend，’sheaddedafteralittlepause，’butIdon’tquiteknowyetwhetheryouwillletme。’

’IndeedIwill，ma’am，’saidCurdie。

’Thatisformetofindout，’sherejoined，withyetanotherstrangesmile。’inthemeantimeallIcansayis，cometomeagainwhenyoufindyourselfinanytrouble，andIwillseewhatIcandoforyou—onlythecanningdependsonyourself。Iamgreatlypleasedwithyouforbringingmemypigeon，doingyourbesttosetrightwhatyouhadsetwrong。’

Asshespokesheheldoutherhandtohim，andwhenhetookitshemadeuseofhistohelpherselfupfromherstool，and—whenorhowitcameabout，Curdiecouldnottell—thesameinstantshestoodbeforehimatall，strongwoman—plainlyveryold，butasgrandasshewasold，andonlyrathersevere—looking。Everytraceofthedecrepitudeandwitherednesssheshowedasshehoveredlikeafilmaboutherwheel，hadvanished。Herhairwasverywhite，butithungaboutherheadingreatplenty，andshonelikesilverinthemoonlight。Straightasapillarshestoodbeforetheastonishedboy，andthewoundedbirdhadnowspreadoutbothitswingsacrossherbosom，likesomegreatmysticalornamentoffrostedsilver。

’Oh，nowIcanneverforgetyou！’criedCurdie。’Iseenowwhatyoureallyare！’

’DidInottellyouthetruthwhenIsatatmywheel？’saidtheoldlady。

’Yes，ma’am，’answeredCurdie。

’Icandonomorethantellyouthetruthnow，’sherejoined。’Itisabadthingindeedtoforgetonewhohastoldusthetruth。Nowgo。’

Curdieobeyed，andtookafewstepstowardthedoor。’Please，ma’am—whatamItocallyou？’hewasgoingtosay;butwhenheturnedtospeak，hesawnobody。Whethershewasthereornothecouldnottell，however，forthemoonlighthadvanished，andtheroomwasutterlydark。Agreatfear，suchashehadneverbeforeknown，cameuponhim，andalmostoverwhelmedhim。Hegropedhiswaytothedoor，andcrawleddownthestair—indoubtandanxietyastohowheshouldfindhiswayoutofthehouseinthedark。Andthestairseemedeversomuchlongerthanwhenhecameup。Norwasthatanywonder，fordownanddownhewent，untilatlengthhisfootstruckadoor，andwhenheroseandopenedit，hefoundhimselfunderthestarry，moonlessskyatthefootofthetower。

Hesoondiscoveredthewayoutofthegarden，withwhichhehadsomeacquaintancealready，andinafewminuteswasclimbingthemountainwithasolemnandcheerfulheart。Itwasratherdark，butheknewthewaywell。Ashepassedtherockfromwhichthepoorpigeonfellwoundedwithhisarrow，agreatjoyfilledhisheartatthethoughtthathewasdeliveredfromthebloodofthelittlebird，andheranthenexthundredyardsatfullspeedupthehill。

Somedarkshadowspassedhim：hedidnotevencaretothinkwhattheywere，butletthemrun。Whenhereachedhome，hefoundhisfatherandmotherwaitingsupperforhim。

CHAPTER4

Curdie’sFatherandMotherTheeyesofthefathersandmothersarequicktoreadtheirchildren’slooks，andwhenCurdieenteredthecottage，hisparentssawatoncethatsomethingunusualhadtakenplace。Whenhesaidtohismother，’Ibegyourpardonforbeingsolate，’therewassomethinginthetonebeyondthepolitenessthatwenttoherheart，foritseemedtocomefromtheplacewherealllovelythingswerebornbeforetheybegantogrowinthisworld。Whenhesethisfather’schairtothetable，anattentionhehadnotshownhimforalongtime，Peterthankedhimwithmoregratitudethantheboyhadeveryetfeltinallhislife。Itwasasmallthingtodoforthemanwhohadbeenservinghimsinceeverhewasborn，butIsuspectthereisnothingamancanbesogratefulforasthattowhichhehasthemostright。

TherewasachangeuponCurdie，andfatherandmotherfelttheremustbesomethingtoaccountforit，andthereforewereprettysurehehadsomethingtotellthem。Forwhenachild’sheartisallright，itisnotlikelyhewillwanttokeepanythingfromhisparents。ButthestoryoftheeveningwastoosolemnforCurdietocomeoutwithallatonce。Hemustwaituntiltheyhadhadtheirporridge，andtheaffairsofthisworldwereoverfortheday。

Butwhentheywereseatedonthegrassybankofthebrookthatwentsosweetlyblunderingoverthegreatstonesofitsrockychannel，forthewholemeadowlayonthetopofahugerock，thenhefeltthattherighthourhadcomeforsharingwiththemthewonderfulthingsthathadcometohim。Itwasperhapstheloveliestofallhoursintheyear。Thesummerwasyoungandsoft，andthiswasthewarmesteveningtheyhadyethad—dusky，darkevenbelow，whileabove，thestarswerebrightandlargeandsharpintheblackestbluesky。Thenightcameclosearoundthem，claspingtheminoneuniversalarmoflove，andalthoughitneitherspokenorsmiled，seemedalleyeandear，seemedtoseeandhearandknoweverythingtheysaidanddid。Itisawaythenighthassometimes，andthereisareasonforit。Theonlysoundwasthatofthebrook，fortherewasnowind，andnotreesforittomakeitsmusicuponiftherehadbeen，forthecottagewashighuponthemountain，onagreatshoulderofstonewheretreeswouldnotgrow。

There，totheaccompanimentofthewater，asithurrieddowntothevalleyandthesea，talkingbusilyofathousandtruethingswhichitcouldnotunderstand，Curdietoldhistale，outsideandin，tohisfatherandmother。Whataworldhadslippedinbetweenthemouthofthemineandhismother’scottage！Neitherofthemsaidaworduntilhehadended。

’NowwhatamItomakeofit，Mother？it’ssostrange！’hesaid，andstopped。

’It’seasyenoughtoseewhatCurdiehasgottomakeofit，isn’tit，Peter？’saidthegoodwoman，turningherfacetowardallshecouldseeofherhusband’s。

’itseemssotome，’answeredPeter，withasmilewhichonlythenightsaw，buthiswifefeltinthetoneofhiswords。Theywerethehappiestcoupleinthatcountry，becausetheyalwaysunderstoodeachother，andthatwasbecausetheyalwaysmeantthesamething，andthatwasbecausetheyalwayslovedwhatwasfairandtrueandrightbetter，notthananythingelse，butthaneverythingelseputtogether。

’ThenwillyoutellCurdie？’saidshe。

’Youcantalkbest，Joan，’saidhe。’Youtellhim，andIwilllisten—andlearnhowtosaywhatIthink，’headded。

’I，’saidCurdie，’don’tknowwhattothink。’

’itdoesnotmattersomuch，’saidhismother。’Ifonlyyouknowwhattomakeofathing，you’llknowsoonenoughwhattothinkofit。NowIneedn’ttellyou，surely，Curdie，whatyou’vegottodowiththis？’

’Isupposeyoumean，Mother，’answeredCurdie，’thatImustdoastheoldladytoldme？’

’ThatiswhatImean：whatelsecoulditbe？AmInotright，Peter？’

’Quiteright，Joan，’answeredPeter，’sofarasmyjudgementgoes。

Itisaverystrangestory，butyouseethequestionisnotaboutbelievingit，forCurdieknowswhatcametohim。’

’Andyouremember，Curdie，’saidhismother，’thatwhentheprincesstookyouupthattoweroncebefore，andtheretalkedtohergreat—great—grandmother，youcamehomequiteangrywithher，andsaidtherewasnothingintheplacebutanoldtub，aheapofstraw—oh，Irememberyourinventoryquitewell！—anoldtub，aheapofstraw，awitheredapple，andasunbeam。Accordingtoyoureyes，thatwasalltherewasinthegreat，old，mustygarret。Butnowyouhavehadaglimpseoftheoldprincessherself！’

’Yes，Mother，Ididseeher—orifIdidn’t—’saidCurdieverythoughtfully—thenbeganagain。’Thehardestthingtobelieve，thoughIsawitwithmyowneyes，waswhenthethin，filmycreaturethatseemedalmosttofloataboutinthemoonlightlikeabitofthesilverpapertheyputoverpictures，orlikeahandkerchiefmadeofspiderthreads，tookmyhand，androseup。Shewastallerandstrongerthanyou，Mother，eversomuch！—atleast，shelookedso。’

’Andmostcertainlywasso，Curdie，ifshelookedso，’saidMrsPeterson。

’Well，Iconfess，’returnedherson，’thatonething，iftherewerenoother，wouldmakemedoubtwhetherIwasnotdreaming，afterall，wideawakethoughIfanciedmyselftobe。’

’Ofcourse，’answeredhismother，’itisnotformetosaywhetheryouweredreamingornotifyouaredoubtfulofityourself;butitdoesn’tmakemethinkIamdreamingwheninthesummerIholdinmyhandthebunchofsweetpeasthatmakemyheartgladwiththeircolourandscent，andrememberthedry，withered—lookinglittlethingIdibbledintotheholeinthesamespotinthespring。I

onlythinkhowwonderfulandlovelyitallis。Itseemsjustasfullofreasonasitisofwonder。HowitisdoneIcan’ttell，onlythereitis！Andthereisthisinit，too，Curdie—ofwhichyouwouldnotbesoreadytothink—thatwhenyoucomehometoyourfatherandmother，andtheyfindyoubehavingmorelikeadear，goodsonthanyouhavebehavedforalongtime，theyatleastarenotlikelytothinkyouwereonlydreaming。’

’Still，’saidCurdie，lookingalittleashamed，’Imighthavedreamedmyduty。’

’Thendreamoften，myson;fortheremustthenbemoretruthinyourdreamsthaninyourwakingthoughts。Buthoweveranyofthesethingsmaybe，thisonepointremainscertain：therecanbenoharmindoingasshetoldyou。And，indeed，untilyouaresurethereisnosuchperson，youareboundtodoit，foryoupromised。’

’itseemstome，’saidhisfather，’thatifaladycomestoyouinadream，Curdie，andtellsyounottotalkaboutherwhenyouwake，theleastyoucandoistoholdyourtongue。’

’True，Father！Yes，Mother，I’lldoit，’saidCurdie。

Thentheywenttobed，andsleep，whichisthenightofthesoul，nexttooktheminitsarmsandmadethemwell。

CHAPTER5

TheMinersItmuchincreasedCurdie’sfeelingofthestrangenessofthewholeaffair，that，thenextmorning，whentheywereatworkinthemine，thepartyofwhichheandhisfatherweretwo，justasiftheyhadknownwhathadhappenedtohimthenightbefore，begantalkingaboutallmannerofwonderfultalesthatwereabroadinthecountry，chiefly，ofcourse，thoseconnectedwiththemines，andthemountainsinwhichtheylay。Theirwivesandmothersandgrandmothersweretheirchiefauthorities。Forwhentheysatbytheirfiresidestheyheardtheirwivestellingtheirchildrentheselfsametales，withlittledifferences，andhereandthereonetheyhadnotheardbefore，whichtheyhadheardtheirmothersandgrandmotherstellinoneorotherofthesamecottages。

AtlengththeycametospeakofacertainstrangebeingtheycalledOldMotherWotherwop。Somesaidtheirwiveshadseenher。Itappearedastheytalkedthatnotonehadseenhermorethanonce。

Someoftheirmothersandgrandmothers，however，hadseenheralso，andtheyallhadtoldthemtalesaboutherwhentheywerechildren。

Theysaidshecouldtakeanyshapesheliked，butthatinrealityshewasawitheredoldwoman，sooldandsowitheredthatshewasasthinasasievewithalampbehindit;thatshewasneverseenexceptatnight，andwhensomethingterriblehadtakenplace，orwasgoingtotakeplace—suchasthefallinginoftheroofofamine，orthebreakingoutofwaterinit。

Shehadmorethanoncebeenseen—itwasalwaysatnight—besidesomewell，sittingonthebrinkofit，andleaningoverandstirringitwithherforefinger，whichwassixtimesaslongasanyoftherest。Andwhoeverformonthsafterdrankofthatwellwassuretobeill。Tothis，oneofthem，however，addedthatherememberedhismothersayingthatwhoeverinbadhealthdrankofthewellwassuretogetbetter。Butthemajorityagreedthattheformerwastherightversionofthestory—forwasshenotawitch，anoldhatingwitch，whosedelightwastodomischief？Onesaidhehadheardthatshetooktheshapeofayoungwomansometimes，asbeautifulasanangel，andthenwasmostdangerousofall，forshestruckeverymanwholookeduponherstone—blind。

Peterventuredthequestionwhethershemightnotaslikelybeanangelthattooktheformofanoldwoman，asanoldwomanthattooktheformofanangel。ButnobodyexceptCurdie，whowasholdinghispeacewithallhismight，sawanysenseinthequestion。Theysaidanoldwomanmightbeverygladtomakeherselflooklikeayoungone，butwhoeverheardofayoungandbeautifulonemakingherselflookoldandugly？

Peteraskedwhytheyweresomuchmorereadytobelievethebadthatwassaidofherthanthegood。Theyanswered，becauseshewasbad。Heaskedwhytheybelievedhertobebad，andtheyanswered，becauseshedidbadthings。Whenheaskedhowtheyknewthat，theysaid，becauseshewasabadcreature。Eveniftheydidn’tknowit，theysaid，awomanlikethatwassomuchmorelikelytobebadthangood。Whydidshegoaboutatnight？Whydidsheappearonlynowandthen，andonsuchoccasions？Onewentontotellhowonenightwhenhisgrandfatherhadbeenhavingajollytimeofitwithhisfriendsinthemarkettown，shehadservedhimsouponhiswayhomethatthepoormanneverdrankadropofanythingstrongerthanwaterafterittothedayofhisdeath。Shedraggedhimintoabog，andtumbledhimupanddowninittillhewasnearlydead。

’Isupposethatwasherwayofteachinghimwhatagoodthingwaterwas，’saidPeter;buttheman，wholikedstrongdrink，didnotseethejoke。

’Theydosay，’saidanother，’thatshehaslivedintheoldhouseoverthereeversincethelittleprincessleftit。Theysaytoothatthehousekeeperknowsallaboutit，andishandandglovewiththeoldwitch。Idon’tdoubttheyhavemanyaniceairingtogetheronbroomsticks。ButIdon’tdoubteitherit’sallnonsense，andthere’snosuchpersonatall。’

’Whenourcowdied，’saidanother，’shewasseengoingroundandroundthecowhousethesamenight。Tobesuresheleftafinecalfbehindher—Imeanthecowdid，notthewitch。Iwondershedidn’tkillthat，too，forshe’llbeafarfinercowthaneverhermotherwas。’

’Myoldwomancameuponheronenight，notlongbeforethewaterbrokeoutinthemine，sittingonastoneonthehillsidewithawholecongregationofcobsabouther。Whentheysawmywifetheyallscamperedoffasfastastheycouldrun，andwherethewitchwassittingtherewasnothingtobeseenbutawitheredbrackenbush。Imadenodoubtmyselfshewasputtingthemuptoit。’

Andsotheywentonwithonefoolishtaleafteranother，whilePeterputinawordnowandthen，andCurdiediligentlyheldhispeace。Buthissilenceatlastdrewattentionuponit，andoneofthemsaid：

’Come，youngCurdie，whatareyouthinkingof？’

’HowdoyouknowI’mthinkingofanything？’askedCurdie。

’Becauseyou’renotsayinganything。’

’Doesitfollowthenthat，asyouaresayingsomuch，you’renotthinkingatall？’saidCurdie。

’Iknowwhathe’sthinking，’saidonewhohadnotyetspoken;’he’sthinkingwhatasetoffoolsyouaretotalksuchrubbish;asifevertherewasorcouldbesuchanoldwomanasyousay！I’msureCurdieknowsbetterthanallthatcomesto。’

’Ithink，’saidCurdie，’itwouldbebetterthathewhosaysanythingabouthershouldbequitesureitistrue，lestsheshouldhearhim，andnotliketobeslandered。’

’Butwouldshelikeitanybetterifitweretrue？’saidthesameman。’IfsheisWhattheysay—Idon’tknow—butIneverknewamanthatwouldn’tgoinaragetobecalledtheverythinghewas。’

’ifbadthingsweretrueofher，andIknewit，’saidCurdie，’I

wouldnothesitatetosaythem，forIwillnevergiveintobeingafraidofanythingthat’sbad。Isuspectthatthethingstheytell，however，ifweknewallaboutthem，wouldturnouttohavenothingbutgoodinthem;andIwon’tsayawordmoreforfearI

shouldsaysomethingthatmightn’tbetohermind。’

Theyallburstintoaloudlaugh。

’Heartheparson！’theycried。’Hebelievesinthewitch！Ha！

ha！’

’He’safraidofher！’

’Andsaysallshedoesisgood！’

’Hewantstomakefriendswithher，thatshemayhelphimtofindthesilverore。’

’Givememyowneyesandagooddiviningrodbeforeallthewitchesintheworld！AndsoI’dadviseyoutoo，MasterCurdie;thatis，whenyoureyeshavegrowntobeworthanything，andyouhavelearnedtocutthehazelfork。’

Thustheyallmockedandjeeredathim，buthedidhisbesttokeephistemperandgoquietlyonwithhiswork。Hegotasclosetohisfatherashecould，however，forthathelpedhimtobearit。Assoonastheyweretiredoflaughingandmocking，Curdiewasfriendlywiththem，andlongbeforetheirmiddaymealallbetweenthemwasasithadbeen。

Butwhentheeveningcame，PeterandCurdiefeltthattheywouldratherwalkhometogetherwithoutothercompany，andthereforelingeredbehindwhentherestofthemenleftthemine。