'They had some of their horrible creatures with them too, and Imust confess I was dreadfully frightened.They had torn my clothes very much, and I was afraid they were going to tear myself to pieces, when suddenly a great white soft light shone upon me.Ilooked up.A broad ray, like a shining road, came down from a large globe of silvery light, not very high up, indeed not quite so high as the horizon - so it could not have been a new star or another moon or anything of that sort.The cobs dropped persecuting me, and looked dazed, and I thought they were going to run away, but presently they began again.The same moment, however, down the path from the globe of light came a bird, shining like silver in the sun.It gave a few rapid flaps first, and then, with its wings straight out, shot,sliding down the slope of the light.It looked to me just like a white pigeon.But whatever it was, when the cobs caught sight of it coming straight down upon them, they took to their heels and scampered away across the mountain, leaving me safe, only much frightened.As soon as it had sent them off, the bird went gliding again up the light, and the moment it reached the globe the light disappeared, just as if a shutter had been closed over a window, and I saw it no More.But I had no more trouble with the cobs that night or ever after.'
'How strange!' exclaimed Curdie.
'Yes, it was strange; but I can't help believing it, whether you do or not,' said his mother.
'It's exactly as your mother told it to me the very next morning,'
said his father.
'You don't think I'm doubting my own mother?' cried Curdie.
'There are other people in the world quite as well worth believing as your own mother,' said his mother.'I don't know that she's so much the fitter to be believed that she happens to be your mother, Mr.Curdie.There are mothers far more likely to tell lies than the little girl I saw talking to the primroses a few weeks ago.If she were to lie I should begin to doubt my own word.'
'But princesses have told lies as well as other people,' said Curdie.
'Yes, but not princesses like that child.She's a good girl, I am certain, and that's more than being a princess.Depend upon it you will have to be sorry for behaving so to her, Curdie.You ought at least to have held your tongue.'
'I am sorry now,' answered Curdie.
'You ought to go and tell her so, then.'
'I don't see how I could manage that.They wouldn't let a miner boy like me have a word with her alone; and I couldn't tell her before that nurse of hers.She'd be asking ever so many questions, and I don't know how many the little princess would like me to answer.She told me that Lootie didn't know anything about her coming to get me out of the mountain.I am certain she would have prevented her somehow if she had known it.But I may have a chance before long, and meantime I must try to do something for her.Ithink, father, I have got on the track at last.'
'Have you, indeed, my boy?' said Peter.'I am sure you deserve some success; you have worked very hard for it.What have you found out?'
'It's difficult, you know, father, inside the mountain, especially in the dark, and not knowing what turns you have taken, to tell the lie of things outside.'
'Impossible, my boy, without a chart, or at least a compass,'
returned his father.
'Well, I think I have nearly discovered in what direction the cobs are mining.If I am right, I know something else that I can put to it, and then one and one will make three.'
'They very often do, Curdie, as we miners ought to be very well aware.Now tell us, my boy, what the two things are, and see whether we can guess at the same third as you.'
'I don't see what that has to do with the princess,' interposed his mother.
