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 tunnelling 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 fact 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 should leave the lawn, to report the place clear.
CHAPTER 14
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.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account