Going up to it, he found it was a piece of mica, or Muscovy glass, called sheep-silver in Scotland, and the light flickering as if from a fire behind it. After trying in vain for some time to discover an entrance to the place where it was burning, he came at length to a small chamber in which an opening high in the wall revealed a glow beyond. To this opening he managed to scramble up, and then he saw a strange sight. Below sat a little group of goblins around a fire, the smoke of which vanished in the darkness far aloft. The sides of the cave were full of shining minerals like those of the palace-hall; and the company was evidently of a superior order, for every one wore stones about head, or arms, or waist, shining, dull, gorgeous colors in the light of the fire. Nor had Curdie looked long before he recognized the king himself, and found that he had made his way into the inner apartment of the royal family. He had never had such a good chance of hearing something! He crept through the hole as softly as he could, scrambled a good way down the wall toward them without attracting attention, and then sat down and listened. The king, evidently the queen, and probably the crown-prince and the prime minister were talking together. He was sure of the queen by her shoes, for as she warmed her feet at the fire, he saw them quite plainly. "That _will_ be fun!" said the one he took for the crown-prince. It was the first whole sentence he heard. "I don't see why you should think it such a grand affair!" said his stepmother, tossing her head backward. "You must remember, my spouse," interposed his Majesty, as if making excuse for his son, "he has got the same blood in him. His mother--" "Don't talk to me of his mother! You positively encourage his unnatural fancies. Whatever belongs to _that_ mother, ought to be cut out of him." "You forget yourself, my dear!" said the king. "I don't," said the queen, "nor you either. If you expect _me_ to approve of such coarse tastes, you will find yourself mistaken. _I_ don't wear shoes for nothing." "You must acknowledge, however," the king said, with a little groan, "that this at least is no whim of Harelip's, but a matter of state-policy. You are well aware that his gratification comes purely from the pleasure of sacrificing himself to the public good. Does it not, Harelip?" "Yes, father; of course it does. Only it _will_ be nice to make her cry. I'll have the skin taken off between her toes, and tie them up till they grow together. Then her feet will be like other people's, and there will be no occasion for her to wear shoes." "Do you mean to insinuate _I've_ got toes, you unnatural wretch?" cried the queen; and she moved angrily toward Harelip. The councilor, however, who was betwixt them, leaned forward so as to prevent her touching him, but only as if to address the prince.