A	>>	B	>>	C	>>	D	>>	E
F	>>	G	>>	H	>>	I	>>	J
K	>>	L	>>	M	>>	N	>>	O
P	>>	R	>>	S	>>	T	>>	U
V	>>	W	>>			X	>>	Z

Herman Melville - "A Romance of the South Sea"

Andrew Lang - "Ban and Arriere Ban"

Helen Keller - "Story of My Life"

Sir Arthur Conan Doyle - "The Disappearance of Lady Frances Carfax"

The Princess and Curdie

G >> George MacDonald >> The Princess and Curdie




To the cellar they all set out to look for the missing pie and
loaf. Lina heard them coming, as well she might, for they were
talking and quarrelling loud, and gave her master warning. They
snatched up everything, and got all signs of their presence out at
the back door before the servants entered. When they found
nothing, they all turned on the chambermaid, and accused her, not
only of lying against the pages, but of having taken the things
herself. Their language and behaviour so disgusted Curdie, who
could hear a great part of what passed, and he saw the danger of
discovery now so much increased, that he began to devise how best
at once to rid the palace of the whole pack of them. That,
however, would be small gain so long as the treacherous officers of
state continued in it. They must be first dealt with. A thought
came to him, and the longer he looked at it the better he liked it.

As soon as the servants were gone, quarrelling and accusing all the
way, they returned and finished their supper. Then Curdie, who had
long been satisfied that Lina understood almost every word he said,
communicated his plan to her, and knew by the wagging of her tail
and the flashing of her eyes that she comprehended it. Until they
had the king safe through the worst part of the night, however,
nothing could be done.

They had now merely to go on waiting where they were till the
household should be asleep. This waiting and waiting was much the
hardest thing Curdie had to do in the whole affair. He took his
mattock and, going again into the long passage, lighted a candle
end and proceeded to examine the rock on all sides. But this was
not merely to pass the time: he had a reason for it. When he broke
the stone in the street, over which the baker fell, its appearance
led him to pocket a fragment for further examination; and since
then he had satisfied himself that it was the kind of stone in
which gold is found, and that the yellow particles in it were pure
metal. If such stone existed here in any plenty, he could soon
make the king rich and independent of his ill-conditioned subjects.
He was therefore now bent on an examination of the rock; nor had he
been at it long before he was persuaded that there were large
quantities of gold in the half-crystalline white stone, with its
veins of opaque white and of green, of which the rock, so far as he
had been able to inspect it, seemed almost entirely to consist.
Every piece he broke was spotted with particles and little lumps of
a lovely greenish yellow - and that was gold. Hitherto he had
worked only in silver, but he had read, and heard talk, and knew,
therefore, about gold. As soon as he had got the king free of
rogues and villains, he would have all the best and most honest
miners, with his father at the head of them, to work this rock for
the king.
It was a great delight to him to use his mattock once more. The
time went quickly, and when he left the passage to go to the king's
chamber, he had already a good heap of fragments behind the broken
door.



CHAPTER 23
Dr Kelman


As soon as he had reason to hope the way was clear, Curdie ventured
softly into the hall, with Lina behind him. There was no one
asleep on the bench or floor, but by the fading fire sat a girl
weeping. It was the same who had seen him carrying off the food,
and had been so hardly used for saying so. She opened her eyes
when he appeared, but did not seem frightened at him.

'I know why you weep,' said Curdie, 'and I am sorry for you.'

'It is hard not to be believed just because one speaks the truth,'
said the girl, 'but that seems reason enough with some people. My
mother taught me to speak the truth, and took such pains with me
that I should find it hard to tell a lie, though I could invent
many a story these servants would believe at once; for the truth is
a strange thing here, and they don't know it when they see it.
Show it them, and they all stare as if it were a wicked lie, and
that with the lie yet warm that has just left their own mouths!
You are a stranger,' she said, and burst out weeping afresh, 'but
the stranger you are to such a place and such people the better!'

'I am the person,' said Curdie, whom you saw carrying the things
from the supper table.' He showed her the loaf. 'If you can
trust, as well as speak the truth, I will trust you. Can you trust
me?'

She looked at him steadily for a moment.

'I can,' she answered.

'One thing more,' said Curdie: 'have you courage as well as truth?'

'I think so.'

'Look my dog in the face and don't cry out. Come here, Lina.'

Lina obeyed. The girl looked at her, and laid her hand on Lina's
head.

'Now I know you are a true woman,' said curdie. 'I am come to set
things right in this house. Not one of the servants knows I am
here. Will you tell them tomorrow morning that, if they do not
alter their ways, and give over drinking, and lying, and stealing,
and unkindness, they shall every one of them be driven from the
palace?'

'They will not believe me.'

'Most likely; but will you give them the chance?'

'I will.'

'Then I will be your friend. Wait here till I come again.'

She looked him once more in the face, and sat down.

When he reached the royal chamber, he found His Majesty awake, and
very anxiously expecting him. He received him with the utmost
kindness, and at once, as it were, put himself in his hands by
telling him all he knew concerning the state he was in. His voice
was feeble, but his eye was clear, although now and then his words
and thoughts seemed to wander. Curdie could not be certain that
the cause of their not being intelligible to him did not lie in
himself. The king told him that for some years, ever since his
queen's death, he had been losing heart over the wickedness of his
people. He had tried hard to make them good, but they got worse
and worse. Evil teachers, unknown to him, had crept into the
schools; there was a general decay of truth and right principle at
least in the city; and as that set the example to the nation, it
must spread.

The main cause of his illness was the despondency with which the
degeneration of his people affected him. He could not sleep, and
had terrible dreams; while, to his unspeakable shame and distress,
he doubted almost everybody. He had striven against his suspicion,
but in vain, and his heart was sore, for his courtiers and
councillors were really kind; only he could not think why none of
their ladies came near his princess. The whole country was
discontented, he heard, and there were signs of gathering storm
outside as well as inside his borders. The master of the horse
gave him sad news of the insubordination of the army; and his great
white horse was dead, they told him; and his sword had lost its
temper: it bent double the last time he tried it! - only perhaps
that was in a dream; and they could not find his shield; and one of
his spurs had lost the rowel.

Thus the poor king went wandering in a maze of sorrows, some of
which were purely imaginary, while others were truer than he
understood. He told how thieves came at night and tried to take
his crown, so that he never dared let it out of his hands even when
he slept; and how, every night, an evil demon in the shape of his
physician came and poured poison down his throat. He knew it to be
poison, he said, somehow, although it tasted like wine.

Here he stopped, faint with the unusual exertion of talking.

Curdie seized the flagon, and ran to the wine cellar.

In the servants' hall the girl still sat by the fire, waiting for
him. As he returned he told her to follow him, and left her at the
chamber door until he should rejoin her. When the king had had a
little wine, he informed him that he had already discovered certain
of His Majesty's enemies, and one of the worst of them was the
doctor, for it was no other demon than the doctor himself who had
been coming every night, and giving him a slow poison.

'So!' said the king. 'Then I have not been suspicious enough, for
I thought it was but a dream! Is it possible Kelman can be such a
wretch? Who then am I to trust?'

'Not one in the house, except the princess and myself,' said
Curdie.

'I will not go to sleep,' said the king.

'That would be as bad as taking the poison,' said Curdie. 'No, no,
sire; you must show your confidence by leaving all the watching to
me, and doing all the sleeping Your Majesty can.'

The king smiled a contented smile, turned on his side, and was
presently fast asleep. Then Curdie persuaded the princess also to
go to sleep, and telling Lina to watch, went to the housemaid. He
asked her if she could inform him which of the council slept in the
palace, and show him their rooms. She knew every one of them, she
said, and took him the round of all their doors, telling him which
slept in each room. He then dismissed her, and returning to the
king's chamber, seated himself behind a curtain at the head of the
bed, on the side farthest from the king. He told Lina to get under
the bed, and make no noise.

About one o'clock the doctor came stealing in. He looked round for
the princess, and seeing no one, smiled with satisfaction as he
approached the wine where it stood under the lamp. Having partly
filled a glass, he took from his pocket a small phial, and filled
up the glass from it. The light fell upon his face from above, and
Curdie saw the snake in it plainly visible. He had never beheld
such an evil countenance: the man hated the king, and delighted in
doing him wrong.

With the glass in his hand, he drew near the bed, set it down, and
began his usual rude rousing of His Majesty. Not at once
succeeding, he took a lancet from his pocket, and was parting its
cover with an involuntary hiss of hate between his closed teeth,
when Curdie stooped and whispered to Lina.

'Take him by the leg, Lina.' She darted noiselessly upon him.
With a face of horrible consternation, he gave his leg one tug to
free it; the next instant Curdie heard the one scrunch with which
she crushed the bone like a stick of celery. He tumbled on the
floor with a yell.

'Drag him out, Lina,' said Curdie.
Lina took him by the collar, and dragged him out. Her master
followed her to direct her, and they left the doctor lying across
the lord chamberlain's door, where he gave another horrible yell,
and fainted.

The king had waked at his first cry, and by the time Curdie
re-entered he had got at his sword where it hung from the centre of
the tester, had drawn it, and was trying to get out of bed. But
when Curdie told him all was well, he lay down again as quietly as
a child comforted by his mother from a troubled dream. Curdie went
to the door to watch.

The doctor's yells had aroused many, but not one had yet ventured
to appear. Bells were rung violently, but none were answered; and
in a minute or two Curdie had what he was watching for. The door
of the lord chamberlain's room opened, and, pale with hideous
terror, His Lordship peeped out. Seeing no one, he advanced to
step into the corridor, and tumbled over the doctor. Curdie ran
up, and held out his hand. He received in it the claw of a bird of
prey - vulture or

eagle, he could not tell which.

His Lordship, as soon as he was on his legs, taking him for one of
the pages abused him heartily for not coming sooner, and threatened
him with dismissal from the king's service for cowardice and
neglect. He began indeed what bade fair to be a sermon on the
duties of a page, but catching sight of the man who lay at his
door, and seeing it was the doctor, he fell upon Curdie afresh for
standing there doing nothing, and ordered him to fetch immediate
assistance. Curdie left him, but slipped into the King's chamber,
closed and locked the door, and left the rascals to look after each
other. Ere long he heard hurrying footsteps, and for a few minutes
there was a great muffled tumult of scuffling feet, low voices and
deep groanings; then all was still again.

Irene slept through the whole - so confidently did she rest,
knowing Curdie was in her father's room watching over him.



CHAPTER 24
The Prophecy


Curdie sat and watched every motion of the sleeping king. All the
night, to his ear, the palace lay as quiet as a nursery of
healthful children. At sunrise he called the princess.

'How has His Majesty slept?' were her first words as she entered
the room.

'Quite quietly,' answered Curdie; 'that is, since the doctor was
got rid of.'
'How did you manage that?' inquired Irene; and Curdie had to tell
all about it.

'How terrible!' she said. 'Did it not startle the king
dreadfully?'

'it did rather. I found him getting out of bed, sword in hand.'

'The brave old man!' cried the princess.

'Not so old!' said Curdie, 'as you will soon see. He went off
again in a minute or so; but for a little while he was restless,
and once when he lifted his hand it came down on the spikes of his
crown, and he half waked.'

'But where is the crown?' cried Irene, in sudden terror.

'I stroked his hands,' answered Curdie, 'and took the crown from
them; and ever since he has slept quietly, and again and again
smiled in his sleep.'

'I have never seen him do that,' said the princess. 'But what have
you done with the crown, Curdie?'
'Look,' said Curdie, moving away from the bedside.

Irene followed him - and there, in the middle of the floor, she saw
a strange sight. Lina lay at full length, fast asleep, her tail
stretched out straight behind her and her forelegs before her:
between the two paws meeting in front of it, her nose just touching
it behind, glowed and flashed the crown, like a nest of the humming
birds of heaven.

Irene gazed, and looked up with a smile.

'But what if the thief were to come, and she not to wake?' she
said. 'Shall I try her?' And as she spoke she stooped toward the
crown.

'No, no, no!' cried Curdie, terrified. 'She would frighten you out
of your wits. I would do it to show you, but she would wake your
father. You have no conception with what a roar she would spring
at my throat. But you shall see how lightly she wakes the moment
I speak to her. Lina!'

She was on her feet the same instant, with her great tail sticking
out straight behind her, just as it had been lying.

'Good dog!' said the princess, and patted her head. Lina wagged
her tail solemnly, like the boom of an anchored sloop. Irene took
the crown, and laid it where the king would see it when he woke.

'Now, Princess,' said Curdie, 'I must leave you for a few minutes.
You must bolt the door, please, and not open it to any one.'

Away to the cellar he went with Lina, taking care, as they passed
through the servants' hall, to get her a good breakfast. In about
one minute she had eaten what he gave her, and looked up in his
face: it was not more she wanted, but work. So out of the cellar
they went through the passage, and Curdie into the dungeon, where
he pulled up Lina, opened the door, let her out, and shut it again
behind her. As he reached the door of the king's chamber, Lina was
flying out of the gate of Gwyntystorm as fast as her mighty legs
could carry her.

'What's come to the wench?' growled the menservants one to another,
when the chambermaid appeared among them the next morning. There
was something in her face which they could not understand, and did
not like.

'Are we all dirt?' they said. 'What are you thinking about? Have
you seen yourself in the glass this morning, miss?'

She made no answer.

'Do you want to be treated as you deserve, or will you speak, you
hussy?' said the first woman-cook. 'I would fain know what right
you have to put on a face like that!'
'You won't believe me,' said the girl.

'Of course not. What is it?'

'I must tell you, whether you believe me or not,' she said.

'of course you must.'

'It is this, then: if you do not repent of your bad ways, you are
all going to be punished - all turned out of the palace together.'

'A mighty punishment!' said the butler. 'A good riddance, say I,
of the trouble of keeping minxes like you in order! And why, pray,
should we be turned out? What have I to repent of now, your
holiness?'

'That you know best yourself,' said the girl.

'A pretty piece of insolence! How should I know, forsooth, what a
menial like you has got against me! There are people in this house
- oh! I'm not blind to their ways! - but every one for himself, say
I! Pray, Miss judgement, who gave you such an impertinent message
to His Majesty's household?'

'One who is come to set things right in the king's house.'

'Right, indeed!' cried the butler; but that moment the thought came
back to him of the roar he had heard in the cellar, and he turned
pale and was silent.

The steward took it up next.
'And pray, pretty prophetess,' he said, attempting to chuck her
under the chin, 'what have I got to repent of?'

'That you know best yourself,' said the girl. 'You have but to
look into your books or your heart.'

'Can you tell me, then, what I have to repent of?' said the groom
of the chambers. 'That you know best yourself,' said the girl once
more. 'The person who told me to tell you said the servants of
this house had to repent of thieving, and lying, and unkindness,
and drinking; and they will be made to repent of them one way, if
they don't do it of themselves another.'

Then arose a great hubbub; for by this time all the servants in the
house were gathered about her, and all talked together, in towering
indignation.

'Thieving, indeed!' cried one. 'A pretty word in a house where
everything is left lying about in a shameless way, tempting poor
innocent girls! A house where nobody cares for anything, or has
the least respect to the value of property!'

'I suppose you envy me this brooch of mine,' said another. 'There
was just a half sheet of note paper about it, not a scrap more, in
a drawer that's always open in the writing table in the study!
What sort of a place is that for a jewel? Can you call it stealing
to take a thing from such a place as that? Nobody cared a straw
about it. it might as well have been in the dust hole! If it had
been locked up - then, to be sure!'

'Drinking!' said the chief porter, with a husky laugh. 'And who
wouldn't drink when he had a chance? Or who would repent it,
except that the drink was gone? Tell me that, Miss Innocence.'

'Lying!' said a great, coarse footman. 'I suppose you mean when I
told you yesterday you were a pretty girl when you didn't pout?
Lying, indeed! Tell us something worth repenting of! Lying is the
way of Gwyntystorm. You should have heard Jabez lying to the cook
last night! He wanted a sweetbread for his pup, and pretended it
was for the princess! Ha! ha! ha!'

'Unkindness! I wonder who's unkind! Going and listening to any
stranger against her fellow servants, and then bringing back his
wicked words to trouble them!' said the oldest and worst of the
housemaids. 'One of ourselves, too! Come, you hypocrite! This is
all an invention of yours and your young man's, to take your
revenge of us because we found you out in a lie last night. Tell
true now: wasn't it the same that stole the loaf and the pie that
sent you with the impudent message?'

As she said this, she stepped up to the housemaid and gave her,
instead of time to answer, a box on the ear that almost threw her
down; and whoever could get at her began to push and bustle and
pinch and punch her.
'You invite your fate,' she said quietly.

They fell furiously upon her, drove her from the hall with kicks
and blows, hustled her along the passage, and threw her down the
stair to the wine cellar, then locked the door at the top of it,
and went back to their breakfast.

In the meantime the king and the princess had had their bread and
wine, and the princess, with Curdie's help, had made the room as
tidy as she could - they were terribly neglected by the servants.
And now Curdie set himself to interest and amuse the king, and
prevent him from thinking too much, in order that he might the
sooner think the better. Presently, at His Majesty's request, he
began from the beginning, and told everything he could recall of
his life, about his father and mother and their cottage on the
mountain, of the inside of the mountain and the work there, about
the goblins and his adventures with them.

When he came to finding the princess and her nurse overtaken by the
twilight on the mountain, Irene took up her share of the tale, and
told all about herself to that point, and then Curdie took it up
again; and so they went on, each fitting in the part that the other
did not know, thus keeping the hoop of the story running straight;
and the king listened with wondering and delighted ears, astonished
to find what he could so ill comprehend, yet fitting so well
together from the lips of two narrators.

At last, with the mission given him by the wonderful princess and
his consequent adventures, Curdie brought up the whole tale to the
present moment. Then a silence fell, and Irene and Curdie thought
the king was asleep. But he was far from it; he was thinking about
many things. After a long pause he said:

'Now at last, MY children, I am compelled to believe many things I
could not and do not yet understand - things I used to hear, and
sometimes see, as often as I visited my mother's home. Once, for
instance, I heard my mother say to her father - speaking of me -
"He is a good, honest boy, but he will be an old man before he
understands"; and my grandfather answered, "Keep up your heart,
child: my mother will look after him." I thought often of their
words, and the many strange things besides I both heard and saw in
that house; but by degrees, because I could not understand them, I
gave up thinking of them. And indeed I had almost forgotten them,
when you, my child, talking that day about the Queen Irene and her
pigeons, and what you had seen in her garret, brought them all back
to my mind in a vague mass. But now they keep coming back to me,
one by one, every one for itself; and I shall just hold my peace,
and lie here quite still, and think about them all till I get well
again.'

What he meant they could not quite understand, but they saw plainly
that already he was better.

'Put away my crown,' he said. 'I am tired of seeing it, and have
no more any fear of its safety.' They put it away together,
withdrew from the bedside, and left him in peace.



CHAPTER 25
The Avengers


There was nothing now to be dreaded from Dr Kelman, but it made
Curdie anxious, as the evening drew near, to think that not a soul
belonging to the court had been to visit the king, or ask how he
did, that day. He feared, in some shape or other, a more
determined assault. He had provided himself a place in the room,
to which he might retreat upon approach, and whence he could watch;
but not once had he had to betake himself to it.

Towards night the king fell asleep. Curdie thought more and more
uneasily of the moment when he must again leave them for a little
while. Deeper and deeper fell the shadows. No one came to light
the lamp. The princess drew her chair close to Curdie: she would
rather it were not so dark, she said. She was afraid of something
- she could not tell what; nor could she give any reason for her
fear but that all was so dreadfully still.

When it had been dark about an hour, Curdie thought Lina might have
returned; and reflected that the sooner he went the less danger was
there of any assault while he was away. There was more risk of his
own presence being discovered, no doubt, but things were now
drawing to a crisis, and it must be run. So, telling the princess
to lock all the doors of the bedchamber, and let no one in, he took
his mattock, and with here a run, and there a halt under cover,
gained the door at the head of the cellar stair in safety. To his
surprise he found it locked, and the key was gone. There was no
time for deliberation. He felt where the lock was, and dealt it a
tremendous blow with his mattock. It needed but a second to dash
the door open. Someone laid a hand on his arm.

'Who is it?' said Curdie.

'I told you they wouldn't believe me, sir,' said the housemaid. 'I
have been here all day.'

He took her hand, and said, 'You are a good, brave girl. Now come
with me, lest your enemies imprison you again.'

He took her to the cellar, locked the door, lighted a bit of
candle, gave her a little wine, told her to wait there till he
came, and went out the back way.

Swiftly he swung himself up into the dungeon. Lina had done her
part. The place was swarming with creatures - animal forms wilder
and more grotesque than ever ramped in nightmare dream. Close by
the hole, waiting his coming, her green eyes piercing the gulf
below, Lina had but just laid herself down when he appeared. All
about the vault and up the slope of the rubbish heap lay and stood
and squatted the forty-nine whose friendship Lina had conquered in
the wood. They all came crowding about Curdie.

Copyright (c) 2007. fullstories.net. All rights reserved.