<SPAN name="chap24"></SPAN>
<h3 align="center"> CHAPTER 24 </h3>
<h3 align="center"> Irene Behaves Like a Princess </h3>
<p>When the princess awoke from the sweetest of sleeps, she found her
nurse bending over her, the housekeeper looking over the nurse's
shoulder, and the laundry-maid looking over the housekeeper's. The room
was full of women-servants; and the gentlemen-at-arms, with a long
column of servants behind them, were peeping, or trying to peep in at
the door of the nursery.</p>
<p>'Are those horrid creatures gone?' asked the princess, remembering
first what had terrified her in the morning.</p>
<p>'You naughty, naughty little princess!' cried Lootie.</p>
<p>Her face was very pale, with red streaks in it, and she looked as if
she were going to shake her; but Irene said nothing—only waited to
hear what should come next.</p>
<p>'How could you get under the clothes like that, and make us all fancy
you were lost! And keep it up all day too! You are the most obstinate
child! It's anything but fun to us, I can tell you!'</p>
<p>It was the only way the nurse could account for her disappearance.</p>
<p>'I didn't do that, Lootie,' said Irene, very quietly.</p>
<p>'Don't tell stories!' cried her nurse quite rudely.</p>
<p>'I shall tell you nothing at all,' said Irene.</p>
<p>'That's just as bad,' said the nurse.</p>
<p>'Just as bad to say nothing at all as to tell stories?' exclaimed the
princess. 'I will ask my papa about that. He won't say so. And I
don't think he will like you to say so.'</p>
<p>'Tell me directly what you mean by it!' screamed the nurse, half wild
with anger at the princess and fright at the possible consequences to
herself.</p>
<p>'When I tell you the truth, Lootie,' said the princess, who somehow did
not feel at all angry, 'you say to me "Don't tell stories": it seems I
must tell stories before you will believe me.'</p>
<p>'You are very rude, princess,' said the nurse.</p>
<p>'You are so rude, Lootie, that I will not speak to you again till you
are sorry. Why should I, when I know you will not believe me?'
returned the princess. For she did know perfectly well that if she
were to tell Lootie what she had been about, the more she went on to
tell her, the less would she believe her.</p>
<p>'You are the most provoking child!' cried her nurse. 'You deserve to
be well punished for your wicked behaviour.'</p>
<p>'Please, Mrs Housekeeper,' said the princess, 'will you take me to your
room, and keep me till my king-papa comes? I will ask him to come as
soon as he can.'</p>
<p>Every one stared at these words. Up to this moment they had all
regarded her as little more than a baby.</p>
<p>But the housekeeper was afraid of the nurse, and sought to patch
matters up, saying:</p>
<p>'I am sure, princess, nursie did not mean to be rude to you.'</p>
<p>'I do not think my papa would wish me to have a nurse who spoke to me
as Lootie does. If she thinks I tell lies, she had better either say
so to my papa, or go away. Sir Walter, will you take charge of me?'</p>
<p>'With the greatest of pleasure, princess,' answered the captain of the
gentlemen-at-arms, walking with his great stride into the room.</p>
<p>The crowd of servants made eager way for him, and he bowed low before
the little princess's bed. 'I shall send my servant at once, on the
fastest horse in the stable, to tell your king-papa that Your Royal
Highness desires his presence. When you have chosen one of these
under-servants to wait upon you, I shall order the room to be cleared.'</p>
<p>'Thank you very much, Sir Walter,' said the princess, and her eye
glanced towards a rosy-cheeked girl who had lately come to the house as
a scullery-maid.</p>
<p>But when Lootie saw the eyes of her dear princess going in search of
another instead of her, she fell upon her knees by the bedside, and
burst into a great cry of distress.</p>
<p>'I think, Sir Walter,' said the princess, 'I will keep Lootie. But I
put myself under your care; and you need not trouble my king-papa until
I speak to you again. Will you all please to go away? I am quite safe
and well, and I did not hide myself for the sake either of amusing
myself, or of troubling my people. Lootie, will you please to dress
me.'</p>
<br/><br/><br/>
<SPAN name="chap25"></SPAN>
<h3 align="center"> CHAPTER 25 </h3>
<h3 align="center"> Curdie Comes to Grief </h3>
<p>Everything was for some time quiet above ground. The king was still
away in a distant part of his dominions. The men-at-arms kept watching
about the house. They had been considerably astonished by finding at
the foot of the rock in the garden the hideous body of the goblin
creature killed by Curdie; but they came to the conclusion that it had
been slain in the mines, and had crept out there to die; and except an
occasional glimpse of a live one they saw nothing to cause alarm.
Curdie kept watching in the mountain, and the goblins kept burrowing
deeper into the earth. As long as they went deeper there was, Curdie
judged, no immediate danger.</p>
<p>To Irene the summer was as full of pleasure as ever, and for a long
time, although she often thought of her grandmother during the day, and
often dreamed about her at night, she did not see her. The kids and
the flowers were as much her delight as ever, and she made as much
friendship with the miners' children she met on the mountain as Lootie
would permit; but Lootie had very foolish notions concerning the
dignity of a princess, not understanding that the truest princess is
just the one who loves all her brothers and sisters best, and who is
most able to do them good by being humble towards them. At the same
time she was considerably altered for the better in her behaviour to
the princess. She could not help seeing that she was no longer a mere
child, but wiser than her age would account for. She kept foolishly
whispering to the servants, however—sometimes that the princess was
not right in her mind, sometimes that she was too good to live, and
other nonsense of the same sort.</p>
<p>All this time Curdie had to be sorry, without a chance of confessing,
that he had behaved so unkindly to the princess. This perhaps made him
the more diligent in his endeavours to serve her. His mother and he
often talked on the subject, and she comforted him, and told him she
was sure he would some day have the opportunity he so much desired.</p>
<p>Here I should like to remark, for the sake of princes and princesses in
general, that it is a low and contemptible thing to refuse to confess a
fault, or even an error. If a true princess has done wrong, she is
always uneasy until she has had an opportunity of throwing the
wrongness away from her by saying: 'I did it; and I wish I had not; and
I am sorry for having done it.' So you see there is some ground for
supposing that Curdie was not a miner only, but a prince as well. Many
such instances have been known in the world's history.</p>
<p>At length, however, he began to see signs of a change in the
proceedings of the goblin excavators: they were going no deeper, but
had commenced running on a level; and he watched them, therefore, more
closely than ever. All at once, one night, coming to a slope of very
hard rock, they began to ascend along the inclined plane of its
surface. Having reached its top, they went again on a level for a
night or two, after which they began to ascend once more, and kept on
at a pretty steep angle. At length Curdie judged it time to transfer
his observation to another quarter, and the next night he did not go to
the mine at all; but, leaving his pickaxe and clue at home, and taking
only his usual lumps of bread and pease pudding, went down the mountain
to the king's house. He climbed over the wall, and remained in the
garden the whole night, creeping on hands and knees from one spot to
the other, and lying at full length with his ear to the ground,
listening. But he heard nothing except the tread of the men-at-arms as
they marched about, whose observation, as the night was cloudy and
there was no moon, he had little difficulty in avoiding. For several
following nights he continued to haunt the garden and listen, but with
no success.</p>
<p>At length, early one evening, whether it was that he had got careless
of his own safety, or that the growing moon had become strong enough to
expose him, his watching came to a sudden end. He was creeping from
behind the rock where the stream ran out, for he had been listening all
round it in the hope it might convey to his ear some indication of the
whereabouts of the goblin miners, when just as he came into the
moonlight on the lawn, a whizz in his ear and a blow upon his leg
startled him. He instantly squatted in the hope of eluding further
notice. But when he heard the sound of running feet, he jumped up to
take the chance of escape by flight. He fell, however, with a keen
shoot of pain, for the bolt of a crossbow had wounded his leg, and the
blood was now streaming from it. He was instantly laid Hold of by two
or three of the men-at-arms. It was useless to struggle, and he
submitted in silence.</p>
<p>'It's a boy!' cried several of them together, in a tone of amazement.
'I thought it was one of those demons. What are you about here?'</p>
<p>'Going to have a little rough usage, apparently,' said Curdie,
laughing, as the men shook him.</p>
<p>'Impertinence will do you no good. You have no business here in the
king's grounds, and if you don't give a true account of yourself, you
shall fare as a thief.'</p>
<p>'Why, what else could he be?' said one.</p>
<p>'He might have been after a lost kid, you know,' suggested another.</p>
<p>'I see no good in trying to excuse him. He has no business here,
anyhow.'</p>
<p>'Let me go away, then, if you please,' said Curdie.</p>
<p>'But we don't please—not except you give a good account of yourself.'</p>
<p>'I don't feel quite sure whether I can trust you,' said Curdie.</p>
<p>'We are the king's own men-at-arms,' said the captain courteously, for
he was taken with Curdie's appearance and courage.</p>
<p>'Well, I will tell you all about it—if you will promise to listen to
me and not do anything rash.'</p>
<p>'I call that cool!' said one of the party, laughing. 'He will tell us
what mischief he was about, if we promise to do as pleases him.'</p>
<p>'I was about no mischief,' said Curdie.</p>
<p>But ere he could say more he turned faint, and fell senseless on the
grass. Then first they discovered that the bolt they had shot, taking
him for one of the goblin creatures, had wounded him.</p>
<p>They carried him into the house and laid him down in the hall. The
report spread that they had caught a robber, and the servants crowded
in to see the villain. Amongst the rest came the nurse. The moment she
saw him she exclaimed with indignation:</p>
<p>'I declare it's the same young rascal of a miner that was rude to me
and the princess on the mountain. He actually wanted to kiss the
princess. I took good care of that—the wretch! And he was prowling
about, was he? Just like his impudence!' The princess being fast
asleep, she could misrepresent at her pleasure.</p>
<p>When he heard this, the captain, although he had considerable doubt of
its truth, resolved to keep Curdie a prisoner until they could search
into the affair. So, after they had brought him round a little, and
attended to his wound, which was rather a bad one, they laid him, still
exhausted from the loss of blood, upon a mattress in a disused
room—one of those already so often mentioned—and locked the door, and
left him. He passed a troubled night, and in the morning they found
him talking wildly. In the evening he came to himself, but felt very
weak, and his leg was exceedingly painful. Wondering where he was, and
seeing one of the men-at-arms in the room, he began to question him and
soon recalled the events of the preceding night. As he was himself
unable to watch any more, he told the soldier all he knew about the
goblins, and begged him to tell his companions, and stir them up to
watch with tenfold vigilance; but whether it was that he did not talk
quite coherently, or that the whole thing appeared incredible,
certainly the man concluded that Curdie was only raving still, and
tried to coax him into holding his tongue. This, of course, annoyed
Curdie dreadfully, who now felt in his turn what it was not to be
believed, and the consequence was that his fever returned, and by the
time when, at his persistent entreaties, the captain was called, there
could be no doubt that he was raving. They did for him what they
could, and promised everything he wanted, but with no intention of
fulfilment. At last he went to sleep, and when at length his sleep
grew profound and peaceful, they left him, locked the door again, and
withdrew, intending to revisit him early in the morning.</p>
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