The goblins, as Curdie had discovered, were mining on--at work both day
and night, in divisions, urging the scheme after which he lay in wait.
In the course of their tunneling, they had broken into the channel of a
small stream, but the break being in the top of it, no water had escaped
to interfere with their work. Some of the creatures, hovering as they
often did about their masters, had found the hole, and had, with the
curiosity which had grown to a passion from the restraints of their
unnatural circumstances, proceeded to explore the channel. The stream
was the same which ran out by the seat on which Irene and her king-papa
had sat as I have told, and the goblin-creatures found it jolly fun to
get out for a romp on a smooth lawn such as they had never seen in all
their poor miserable lives. But although they had partaken enough of the
nature of their owners to delight in annoying and alarming any of the
people whom they met on the mountain, they were of course incapable of
designs of their own, or of intentionally furthering those of their
masters.
For several nights after the men-at-arms were at length of one mind as
to the facts of the visits of some horrible creatures, whether bodily or
spectral they could not yet say, they watched with special attention
that part of the garden where they had last seen them. Perhaps indeed
they gave in consequence too little attention to the house. But the
creatures were too cunning to be easily caught; nor were the watchers
quick-eyed enough to descry the head, or the keen eyes in it, which,
from the opening whence the stream issued, would watch them in turn,
ready, the moment they left the lawn to report the place clear.
CHAPTER XIV
THAT NIGHT WEEK
DURING the whole of the week, Irene had been thinking every other moment
of her promise to the old lady, although even now she could not feel
quite sure that she had not been dreaming. Could it really be that an
old lady lived up in the top of the house with pigeons and a
spinning-wheel, and a lamp that never went out? She was, however, none
the less determined, on the coming Friday, to ascend the three stairs,
walk through the passages with the many doors, and try to find the tower
in which she had either seen or dreamed her grandmother.
Her nurse could not help wondering what had come to the child--she would
sit so thoughtfully silent, and even in the midst of a game with her,
would so suddenly fall into a dreamy mood. But Irene took care to betray
nothing, whatever efforts Lootie might make to get at her thoughts. And
Lootie had to say to herself, "What an odd child she is!" and give it
up.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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