The Mattock While The magistrate reinvigorated his selfishness with a greedy breakfast, Curdie found doing nothing in the dark rather tiresome work.it was useless attempting to think what he should do next, seeing the circumstances in which he was presently to find himself were altogether unknown to him.So he began to think about his father and mother in their little cottage home, high in the clear air of the open Mountainside, and the thought, instead of making his dungeon gloomier by the contrast, made a light in his soul that destroyed the power of darkness and captivity.
But he was at length startled from his waking dream by a swell in the noise outside.All the time there had been a few of the more idle of the inhabitants about the door, but they had been rather quiet.Now, however, the sounds of feet and voices began to grow, and grew so rapidly that it was plain a multitude was gathering.
For the people of Gwyntystorm always gave themselves an hour of pleasure after their second breakfast, and what greater pleasure could they have than to see a stranger abused by the officers of justice?
The noise grew till it was like the roaring of the sea, and that roaring went on a long time, for the magistrate, being a great man, liked to know that he was waited for: it added to the enjoyment of his breakfast, and, indeed, enabled him to eat a little more after he had thought his powers exhausted.
But at length, in the waves of the human noises rose a bigger wave, and by the running and shouting and outcry, Curdie learned that the magistrate was approaching.
Presently came the sound of the great rusty key in the lock, which yielded with groaning reluctance; the door was thrown back, the light rushed in, and with it came the voice of the city marshal, calling upon Curdie, by many legal epithets opprobrious, to come forth and be tried for his life, inasmuch as he had raised a tumult in His Majesty's city of Gwyntystorm, troubled the hearts of the king's baker and barber, and slain the faithful dogs of His Majesty's well-beloved butchers.
He was still reading, and Curdie was still seated in the brown twilight of the vault, not listening, but pondering with himself how this king the city marshal talked of could be the same with the Majesty he had seen ride away on his grand white horse with the Princess Irene on a cushion before him, when a scream of agonized terror arose on the farthest skirt of the crowd, and, swifter than flood or flame, the horror spread shrieking.In a moment the air was filled with hideous howling, cries of unspeakable dismay, and the multitudinous noise of running feet.The next moment, in at the door of the vault bounded Lina, her two green eyes flaming yellow as sunflowers, and seeming to light up the dungeon.With one spring she threw herself at Curdie's feet, and laid her head upon them panting.Then came a rush of two or three soldiers darkening the doorway, but it was only to lay hold of the key, pull the door to, and lock it; so that once more Curdie and Lina were prisoners together.
For a few moments Lina lay panting hard: it is breathless work leaping and roaring both at once, and that in a way to scatter thousands of people.Then she jumped up, and began snuffing about all over the place; and Curdie saw what he had never seen before -two faint spots of light cast from her eyes upon the ground, one on each side of her snuffing nose.He got out his tinder box - a miner is never without one - and lighted a precious bit of candle he carried in a division of it just for a moment, for he must not waste it.
The light revealed a vault without any window or other opening than the door.It was very old and much neglected.The mortar had vanished from between the stones, and it was half filled with a heap of all sorts of rubbish, beaten down in the middle, but looser at the sides; it sloped from the door to the foot of the opposite wall: evidently for a long time the vault had been left open, and every sort of refuse thrown into it.A single minute served for the survey, so little was there to note.
Meantime, down in the angle between the back wall and the base of the heap Lina was scratching furiously with all the eighteen great strong claws of her mighty feet.
'Ah, ha!' said Curdie to himself, catching sight of her, 'if only they will leave us long enough to ourselves!'
With that he ran to the door, to see if there was any fastening on the inside.There was none: in all its long history it never had had one.But a few blows of the right sort, now from the one, now from the other end of his mattock, were as good as any bolt, for they so ruined the lock that no key could ever turn in it again.
