wheel. Oh, it was such a thin, delicate
thing--reminding him of a spider's web in a hedge. It stood in the
middle of the moonlight, and it seemed as if the moonlight had nearly
melted it away. A step nearer, he saw, with a start, two little hands
at work with it. And then at last, in the shadow on the other side of
the moonlight which came like silver between, he saw the form to which
the hands belonged: a small withered creature, so old that no age would
have seemed too great to write under her picture, seated on a stool
beyond the spinning wheel, which looked very large beside her, but, as
I said, very thin, like a long-legged spider holding up its own web,
which was the round wheel itself She sat crumpled together, a filmy
thing that it seemed a puff would blow away, more like the body of a
fly the big spider had sucked empty and left hanging in his web, than
anything else I can think of.

When Curdie saw her, he stood still again, a good deal in wonder, a
very little in reverence, a little in doubt, and, I must add, a little
in amusement at the odd look of the old marvel. Her grey hair mixed
with the moonlight so that he could not tell where the one began and
the other ended. Her crooked back bent forward over her chest, her
shoulders nearly swallowed up her head between them, and her two little
hands were just like the grey claws of a hen, scratching at the thread,
which to Curdie was of course invisible across the moonlight. Indeed
Curdie laughed within himself, just a little, at the sight; and when he
thought of how the princess used to talk about her huge, great, old
grandmother, he laughed more. But that moment the little lady leaned
forward into the moonlight, and Curdie caught a glimpse of her eyes,
and all the laugh went out of him.

'What do you come here for, Curdie?' she said, as gently as before.

Then Curdie remembered that he stood there as a culprit, and worst of
all, as one who had his confession yet to make. There was no time to
hesitate over it.

'Oh, ma'am! See here,' he said, and advanced a step or two, holding
out the pigeon.

'What have you got there?' she asked.

Again Curdie advanced a few steps, and held out his hand with the
pigeon, that she might see what it was, into the moonlight. The moment
the rays fell upon it the pigeon gave a faint flutter. The old lady
put out her old hands and took it, and held it to her bosom, and rocked
it, murmuring over it as if it were a si