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CHAPTER 18
The King's Kitchen
Back to the cellar Curdie and Lina sped with their booty, where,
seated on the steps, Curdie lighted his bit of candle for a moment.
A very little bit it was now, but they did not waste much of it in
examination of the pie; that they effected by a more summary
process. Curdie thought it the nicest food he had ever tasted, and
between them they soon ate it up. Then Curdie would have thrown
the dish along with the bones into the water, that there might be
no traces of them; but he thought of his mother, and hid it
instead; and the very next minute they wanted it to draw some wine
into. He was careful it should be from the cask of which he had
seen the butler drink.
Then they sat down again upon the steps, and waited until the house
should be quiet. For he was there to do something, and if it did
not come to him in the cellar, he must go to meet it in other
places. Therefore, lest he should fall asleep, he set the end of
the helve of his mattock on the ground, and seated himself on the
cross part, leaning against the wall, so that as long as he kept
awake he should rest, but the moment he began to fall asleep he
must fall awake instead. He quite expected some of the servants
would visit the cellar again that night, but whether it was that
they were afraid of each other, or believed more of the butler's
story than they had chosen to allow, not one of them appeared.
When at length he thought he might venture, he shouldered his
mattock and crept up the stair. The lamp was out in the passage,
but he could not miss his way to the servants' hall. Trusting to
Lina's quickness in concealing herself, he took her with him.
When they reached the hall they found it quiet and nearly dark.
The last of the great fire was glowing red, but giving little
light. Curdie stood and warmed himself for a few moments: miner as
he was, he had found the cellar cold to sit in doing nothing; and
standing thus he thought of looking if there were any bits of
candle about. There were many candlesticks on the supper table,
but to his disappointment and indignation their candles seemed to
have been all left to burn out, and some of them, indeed, he found
still hot in the neck.
Presently, one after another, he came upon seven men fast asleep,
most of them upon tables, one in a chair, and one on the floor.
They seemed, from their shape and colour, to have eaten and drunk
so much that they might be burned alive without wakening. He
grasped the hand of each in succession,and found two ox hoofs,
three pig hoofs, one concerning which he could not be sure whether
it was the hoof of a donkey or a pony, and one dog's paw. 'A nice
set of people to be about a king!' thought Curdie to himself, and
turned again to his candle hunt. He did at last find two or three
little pieces, and stowed them away in his pockets. They now left
the hall by another door, and entered a short passage, which led
them to the huge kitchen, vaulted and black with smoke. There,
too, the fire was still burning, so that he was able to see a
little of the state of things in this quarter also.
The place was dirty and disorderly. In a recess, on a heap of
brushwood, lay a kitchen-maid, with a table cover around her, and
a skillet in her hand: evidently she too had been drinking. In
another corner lay a page, and Curdie noted how like his dress was
to his own. in the cinders before the hearth were huddled three
dogs and five cats, all fast asleep, while the rats were running
about the floor. Curdie's heart ached to think of the lovely
child-princess living over such a sty. The mine was a paradise to
a palace with such servants in it.
Leaving the kitchen, he got into the region of the sculleries.
There horrible smells were wandering about, like evil spirits that
come forth with the darkness. He lighted a candle - but only to
see ugly sights. Everywhere was filth and disorder. Mangy
turnspit dogs were lying about, and grey rats were gnawing at
refuse in the sinks. It was like a hideous dream. He felt as if
he should never get out of it, and longed for one glimpse of his
mother's poor little kitchen, so clean and bright and airy.
Turning from it at last in miserable disgust, he almost ran back
through the kitchen, re-entered the hall, and crossed it to another
door.
It opened upon a wider passage leading to an arch in a stately
corridor, all its length lighted by lamps in niches. At the end of
it was a large and beautiful hall, with great pillars. There sat
three men in the royal livery, fast asleep, each in a great
armchair, with his feet on a huge footstool. They looked like
fools dreaming themselves kings; and Lina looked as if she longed
to throttle them. At one side of the hall was the grand staircase,
and they went up.
Everything that now met Curdie's eyes was rich - not glorious like
the splendours of the mountain cavern, but rich and soft - except
where, now and then, some rough old rib of the ancient fortress
came through, hard and discoloured. Now some dark bare arch of
stone, now some rugged and blackened pillar, now some huge beam,
brown with the smoke and dust of centuries, looked like a thistle
in the midst of daisies, or a rock in a smooth lawn.
They wandered about a good while, again and again finding
themselves where they had been before. Gradually, however, Curdie
was gaining some idea of the place. By and by Lina began to look
frightened, and as they went on Curdie saw that she looked more and
more frightened. Now, by this time he had come to understand that
what made her look frightened was always the fear of frightening,
and he therefore concluded they must be drawing nigh to somebody.
At last, in a gorgeously painted gallery, he saw a curtain of
crimson, and on the curtain a royal crown wrought in silks and
stones. He felt sure this must be the king's chamber, and it was
here he was wanted; or, if it was not the place he was bound for,
something would meet him and turn him aside; for he had come to
think that so long as a man wants to do right he may go where he
can: when he can go no farther, then it is not the way. 'Only,'
said his father, in assenting to the theory, 'he must really want
to do right, and not merely fancy he does. He must want it with
his heart and will, and not with his rag of a tongue.'
So he gently lifted the corner of the curtain, and there behind it
was a half-open door. He entered, and the moment he was in, Lina
stretched herself along the threshold between the curtain and the
door.
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