re I have been training him for a
work that must soon be done. I was near losing him, and had to send my
pigeon. Had he not shot it, that would have been better; but he
repented, and that shall be as good in the end.'

She turned to Curdie and smiled.

'Ma'am,' said Curdie, 'may I ask questions?'

'Why not, Curdie?'

'Because I have been told, ma'am, that nobody must ask the king
questions.'

'The king never made that law,' she answered, with some displeasure.
'You may ask me as many as you please--that is, so long as they are
sensible. Only I may take a few thousand years to answer some of them.
But that's nothing. Of all things time is the cheapest.'

'Then would you mind telling me now, ma'am, for I feel very confused
about it--are you the Lady of the Silver Moon?'

'Yes, Curdie; you may call me that if you like. What it means is true.'

'And now I see you dark, and clothed in green, and the mother of all
the light that dwells in the stones of the earth! And up there they
call you Old Mother Wotherwop! And the Princess Irene told me you were
her great-great-grandmother! And you spin the spider threads, and take
care of a whole people of pigeons; and you are worn to a pale shadow
with old age; and are as young as anybody can be, not to be too young;
and as strong, I do believe, as I am.'

The lady stooped toward a large green stone bedded in the rock of the
floor, and looking like a well of grassy light in it. She laid hold of
it with her fingers, broke it out, and gave it to Peter. 'There!' cried
Curdie. 'I told you so. Twenty men could not have done that. And
your fingers are white and smooth as any lady's in the land. I don't
know what to make of it.'

'I could give you twenty names more to call me, Curdie, and not one of
them would be a false one. What does it matter how many names if the
person is one?'

'Ah! But it is not names only, ma'am. Look at what you were like last
night, and what I see you now!'

'Shapes are only dresses, Curdie, and dresses are only names. That
which is inside is the same all the time.'

'But then how can all the shapes speak the truth?'

'It would want thousands more to speak the truth, Curdie; and then they
could not. But there is a point I must not let you mistake about. It
is one thing the shape I choose to put on, and quite another the shape
that foolish talk and nursery tale may please to put upon me. Also, it
is one thing what you or your fat