Children's stories; Fairy tales; Fantasy literature
"I told you they wouldn't believe me, sir," said the housemaid. "I have
been here all day."
He took her hand, and said, "You are a good, brave girl. Now come with
me, lest your enemies imprison you again."
He took her to the cellar, locked the door, lighted a bit of candle,
gave her a little wine, told her to wait there till he came, and went
out the back way.
Swiftly he swung himself up into the dungeon. Lina had done her part.
The place was swarming with creatures--animal forms wilder and more
grotesque than ever ramped in nightmare dream. Close by the hole,
waiting his coming, her green eyes piercing the gulf below, Lina had but
just laid herself down when he appeared. All about the vault and up the
slope of the rubbish-heap lay and stood and squatted the forty-nine
whose friendship Lina had conquered in the wood. They all came crowding
about Curdie.
He must get them into the cellar as quickly as ever he could. But when
he looked at the size of some of them, he feared it would be a long
business to enlarge the hole sufficiently to let them through. At it he
rushed, hitting vigorously at its edge with his mattock. At the very
first blow came a splash from the water beneath, but ere he could heave
a third, a creature like a tapir, only that the grasping point of its
proboscis was hard as the steel of Curdie's hammer, pushed him gently
aside, making room for another creature, with a head like a great club,
which it began banging upon the floor with terrible force and noise.
After about a minute of this battery, the tapir came up again, shoved
Clubhead aside, and putting its own head into the hole began gnawing at
the sides of it with the finger of its nose, in such a fashion that the
fragments fell in a continuous gravelly shower into the water. In a few
minutes the opening was large enough for the biggest creature amongst
them to get through it.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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