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
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