'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 Itold 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 Icould 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, Igave 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.