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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