'Because I don't mind them. I'm used to them.'
'What difference does that make?'
'If you're not afraid of them, they're afraid of you. I'm not afraid
of them. That's all. But it's all that's wanted--up here, that is.
It's a different thing down there. They won't always mind that song
even, down there. And if anyone sings it, they stand grinning at him
awfully; and if he gets frightened, and misses a word, or says a wrong
one, they--oh! don't they give it him!'
'What do they do to him?' asked Irene, with a trembling voice.
'Don't go frightening the princess,' said the nurse.
'The princess!' repeated the little miner, taking off his curious cap.
'I beg your pardon; but you oughtn't to be out so late. Everybody knows
that's against the law.'
'Yes, indeed it is!' said the nurse, beginning to cry again. 'And I
shall have to suffer for it.'
'What does that matter?' said the boy. 'It must be your fault. It is
the princess who will suffer for it. I hope they didn't hear you call
her the princess. If they did, they're sure to know her again: they're
awfully sharp.'
'Lootie! Lootie!' cried the princess. 'Take me home.'
'Don't go on like that,' said the nurse to the boy, almost fiercely.
'How could I help it? I lost my way.'
'You shouldn't have been out so late. You wouldn't have lost your way
if you hadn't been frightened,' said the boy. 'Come along. I'll soon
set you right again. Shall I carry your little Highness?'
'Impertinence!' murmured the nurse, but she did not say it aloud, for
she thought if she made him angry he might take his revenge by telling
someone belonging to the house, and then it would be sure to come to
the king's ears. 'No, thank you,' said Irene. 'I can walk very well,
though I can't run so fast as nursie. If you will give me one hand,
Lootie will give me another, and then I shall get on famously.'
They soon had her between them, holding a hand of each.
'Now let's run,' said the nurse.
'No, no!' said the little miner. 'That's the worst thing you can do.
If you hadn't run before, you would not have lost your way. And if you
run now, they will be after you in a moment.'
'I don't want to run,' said Irene.
'You don't think of me,' said the nurse.
'Yes, I do, Lootie. The boy says they won't touch us if we don't run.'
'Yes, but if they know at the house that I've kept you out so late I
shall be turned away, and that would break my heart.'
'Turned away, Lootie! Who would turn you away?'
'Your papa, child.'
'But I'll tell him it was all my fault. And you know it was, Lootie.'
'He won't mind that. I'm sure he won't.'
'Then I'll cry, and go down on my knees to him, and beg him not to take
away my own dear Lootie.'
The nurse was comforted at hearing this, and said no more. They went
on, walking pretty fast, but taking care not to run a step.
'I want to talk to you,' said Irene to the little miner; 'but it's so
awkward! I don't know your name.'
'My name's Curdie, little princess.'
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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