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
tonight, if he work ever so hard. He's not by any 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 as well to be getting out of this.
Helfer, you'll take the great chest. That's your business, you
know.'

'Yes, dad,' said a third voice. 'But you must help me to get it on
my back. It's awfully heavy, you know.'

'Well, it isn't just a bag of smoke, I admit. But you're as strong
as a mountain, Helfer.'