She looked about five-and-twenty years old. And for all the
difference, Curdie knew somehow or other, he could not have told
how, that the face before him was that of the old princess, Irene's
great-great-grandmother.
By this time all around them had grown light, and now first they
could see where they were. They stood in a great splendid cavern,
which Curdie recognized as that in which the goblins held their
state assemblies. But, strange to tell, the light by which they
saw came streaming, sparkling, and shooting from stones of many
colours in the sides and roof and floor of the cavern - stones of
all the colours of the rainbow, and many more. It was a glorious
sight - the whole rugged place flashing with colours - in one spot
a great light of deep carbuncular red, in another of sapphirine
blue, in another of topaz yellow; while here and there were groups
of stones of all hues and sizes, and again nebulous spaces of
thousands of tiniest spots of brilliancy of every conceivable
shade. Sometimes the colours ran together, and made a little river
or lake of lambent, interfusing, and changing tints, which, by
their variegation, seemed to imitate the flowing of water, or waves
made by the wind.
Curdie would have gazed entranced, but that all the beauty of the
cavern, yes, of all he knew of the whole creation, seemed gathered
in one centre of harmony and loveliness in the person of the
ancient lady who stood before him in the very summer of beauty and
strength.
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