Stories Oct, 2013 | Page 72

rock. He had not kept the position for one minute before he heard something which made him sharpen his ears. It sounded like a voice inside the rock. After a while he heard it again. It was a goblin-voice--there could be no doubt about that--and this time he could make out the words. "Hadn't we better be moving?" it said. A rougher and deeper voice replied: "There's no hurry. That wretched little mole won't be through to-night, if he work ever so hard. He's by no means at the thinnest place." "But you still think the lode does come through into our house?" said the first voice. "Yes, but a good bit farther on than he has got to yet. If he had struck a stroke more to the side just here," said the goblin, tapping the very stone, as it seemed to Curdie, against which his head lay, "he would have been through; but he's a couple of yards past it now, and if he follow the lode it will be a week before it leads him in. You see it back there--a long way. Still, perhaps, in case of accident, it would be Madhuri Noah C:\Users\MNoah\Documents\The Princess and the Goblin1.docx Page 71 of 634