Curdie gave a great rush with his shoulder against it. Out tumbled the slab on the heap, and out crept Curdie over the top of it. "You've saved my life, Irene!" he whispered. "Oh, Curdie! I'm so glad! Let's get out of this horrid place as fast as we can." "That's easier said than done," returned he. "Oh, no! it's quite easy," said Irene. "We have only to follow my thread. I am sure that it's going to take us out now." She had already begun to follow it over the fallen slab into the hole, while Curdie was searching the floor of the cavern for his pickaxe. [Illustration: Curdie went on after her, flashing his torch about.] "Here it is!" he cried. "No, it is not!" he added, in a disappointed tone. "What can it be then?--I declare it's a torch. That _is_ jolly! It's better almost than my pickaxe. Much better if it weren't for those stone shoes!" he went on, as he lighted the torch by blowing the last embers of the expiring fire. When he looked up, with the lighted torch casting a glare into the great darkness of the huge cavern, he caught sight of Irene disappearing in the hole out of which he had himself just come. "Where are you going there?" he cried. "That's not the way out. That's where I couldn't get out." "I know that," whispered Irene. "But this is the way my thread goes, and I must follow it." "What nonsense the child talks!" said Curdie to himself. "I must follow her, though, and see that she comes to no harm. She will soon find she can't get out that way, and then she will come with me." So he crept once more over the slab into the hole with his torch in his hand. But when he looked about in it, he could see her nowhere. And now he discovered that although the hole was narrow, it was much larger than he had supposed; for in one direction the roof came down very low, and the hole went off in a narrow passage, of which he could not see the end. The princess must have crept in there. He got on his knees and one hand, holding the torch with the other, and crept after her. The hole twisted about, in some parts so low that he could hardly get through, in others so high that he could not see the roof, but everywhere it was narrow--far too narrow for a goblin to get through, and so I presume they never thought that Curdie might. He was beginning to feel very uncomfortable lest he could not see the end. The princess when he heard her voice almost close to his ear, whispering-- "Aren't you coming, Curdie?" And when he turned the next corner, there she stood waiting for him. "I knew you couldn't go wrong in that narrow hole, but now you must keep by me, for here is a great wide place," she said. "I can't understand it," said Curdie, half to himself, half to Irene. "Never mind," she returned. "Wait till we get out." Curdie, utterly astonished that she had already got so far, and by a path he had known nothing of, thought it better to let her do as she pleased.