波波小说

chater ne the witch hue（第1页）

ANDnowofcourseyouwanttoknowwhathadhappenedtoEdmund．Hehadeatenhisshareofthedinner，buthehadn’treallyenjoyeditbecausehewasthinkingallthetimeaboutTurkishDelight-andthere’snothingthatspoilsthetasteofgoodordinaryfoodhalfsomuchasthememoryofbadmagicfood．Andhehadheardtheconversation，andhadn’tenjoyeditmucheither，becausehekeptonthinkingthattheothersweretakingnonoticeofhimandtryingtogivehimthecoldshoulder．Theyweren’t，butheimaginedit．AndthenhehadlisteneduntilMr。BeavertoldthemaboutAslananduntilhehadheardthewholearrangementformeetingAslanattheStoneTable．Itwasthenthathebeganveryquietlytoedgehimselfunderthecurtainwhichhungoverthedoor。ForthementionofAslangavehimamysteriousandhorriblefeelingjustasitgavetheothersamysteriousandlovelyfeeling．

JustasMr。BeaverhadbeenrepeatingtherhymeaboutAdam’sfleshandAdam’sboneEdmundhadbeenveryquietlyturningthe

doorhandle；andjustbeforeMr。BeaverhadbeguntellingthemthattheWhiteWitchwasn’treallyhumanatallbuthalfaJinnandhalfagiantess，Edmundhadgotoutsideintothesnowandcautiouslyclosedthedoorbehindhim．

Youmustn’tthinkthatevennowEdmundwasquitesobadthatheactuallywantedhisbrotherandsisterstobeturnedintostone．HedidwantTurkishDelightandtobeaPrince（andlateraKing）andtopayPeteroutforcallinghimabeast．AsforwhattheWitchwoulddowiththeothers，hedidn’twanthertobeparticularlynicetothem-certainlynottoputthemonthesamelevelashimself；buthemanagedtobelieve，ortopretendhebelieved，thatshewouldn’tdoanythingverybadtothem，“Because，”hesaidtohimself，“allthesepeoplewhosaynastythingsaboutherareherenemiesandprobablyhalfofitisn’ttrue．Shewasjollynicetome，anyway，muchnicerthantheyare．IexpectsheistherightfulQueenreally．Anyway，she’llbebetterthanthatawfulAslan！”Atleast，thatwastheexcusehemadeinhisownmindforwhathewasdoing．Itwasn’taverygoodexcuse，however，fordeepdowninsidehimhereallyknewthattheWhiteWitchwasbadandcruel．

Thefirstthingherealizedwhenhegotoutsideandfoundthesnowfallingallroundhim，wasthathehadlefthiscoatbehindintheBeavers’house．Andofcoursetherewasnochanceofgoingbacktogetitnow．Thenextthingherealizedwasthatthedaylightwasalmostgone，forithadbeennearlythreeo’clockwhentheysatdowntodinnerandthewinterdayswereshort．Hehadn’treckonedonthis；buthehadtomakethebestofit．Soheturneduphiscollarandshuffledacrossthetopofthedam（luckilyitwasn’tsoslipperysincethesnowhadfallen）tothefarsideoftheriver．

Itwasprettybadwhenhereachedthefarside．Itwasgrowingdarkereveryminuteandwhatwiththatandthesnowflakesswirlingallroundhimhecouldhardlyseethreefeetahead．Andthentootherewasnoroad．Hekeptslippingintodeepdriftsofsnow，andskiddingonfrozenpuddles，andtrippingoverfallentree-trunks，andslidingdownsteepbanks，andbarkinghisshinsagainstrocks，tillhewaswetandcoldandbruisedallover．Thesilenceandthelonelinessweredreadful．InfactIreallythinkhemighthavegivenupthewholeplanandgonebackandownedupandmadefriendswiththeothers，ifhehadn’thappenedtosaytohimself，“WhenI’mKingofNarniathefirstthingIshalldowillbetomakesomedecentroads．”AndofcoursethatsethimoffthinkingaboutbeingaKingandalltheotherthingshewoulddoandthischeeredhimupagooddeal．HehadjustsettledinhismindwhatsortofpalacehewouldhaveandhowmanycarsandallabouthisprivatecinemaandwheretheprincipalrailwayswouldrunandwhatlawshewouldmakeagainstbeaversanddamsandwasputtingthefinishingtouchestosomeschemesforkeepingPeterinhisplace，whentheweatherchanged．Firstthesnowstopped。Thenawindsprangupanditbecamefreezingcold．Finally，thecloudsrolledawayandthemooncameout．Itwasafullmoonand，shiningonallthatsnow，itmadeeverythingalmostasbrightasday-onlytheshadowswereratherconfusing．

Hewouldneverhavefoundhiswayifthemoonhadn’tcomeoutbythetimehegottotheotherriveryourememberhehadseen（whentheyfirstarrivedattheBeavers。）asmallerriverflowingintothegreatonelowerdown．Henowreachedthisandturnedtofollowitup．Butthelittlevalleydownwhichitcamewasmuchsteeperandrockerthantheonehehadjustleftandmuchovergrownwithbushes，sothathecouldnothavemanageditatallinthedark．Evenasitwas，hegotwetthroughforhehadtostoopunderbranchesandgreatloadsofsnowcameslidingoffontohisback．AndeverytimethishappenedhethoughtmoreandmorehowhehatedPeter-justasifallthishadbeenPeter’sfault．

Butatlasthecametoapartwhereitwasmorelevelandthevalleyopenedout．Andthere，ontheothersideoftheriver，quiteclosetohim，inthemiddleofalittleplainbetweentwohills，hesawwhatmustbetheWhiteWitch’sHouse．Andthemoonwasshiningbrighterthanever．TheHousewasreallyasmallcastle．Itseemedtobealltowers；littletowerswithlongpointedspiresonthem，sharpasneedles．Theylookedlikehugedunce’scapsorsorcerer’scaps．Andtheyshoneinthemoonlightandtheirlongshadowslookedstrangeonthesnow．EdmundbegantobeafraidoftheHouse．

Butitwastoolatetothinkofturningbacknow．HecrossedtheriverontheiceandwalkeduptotheHouse．Therewasnothingstirring；nottheslightestsoundanywhere．Evenhisownfeetmadenonoiseonthedeepnewlyfallensnow．Hewalkedonandon，pastcorneraftercorneroftheHouse，andpastturretafterturrettofindthedoor．Hehadtogorightroundtothefarsidebeforehefoundit．Itwasahugearchbutthegreatirongatesstoodwideopen．

Edmundcreptuptothearchandlookedinsideintothecourtyard，andtherehesawasightthatnearlymadehisheartstopbeating．Justinsidethegate，withthemoonlightshiningonit，stoodanenormouslioncrouchedasifitwasreadytospring．AndEdmundstoodintheshadowofthearch，afraidtogoonandafraidtogoback，withhiskneesknockingtogether．Hestoodtheresolongthathisteethwouldhavebeenchatteringwithcoldeveniftheyhadnotbeenchatteringwithfear．HowlongthisreallylastedIdon’tknow，butitseemedtoEdmundtolastforhours．

Thenatlasthebegantowonderwhythelionwasstandingsostill-forithadn’tmovedoneinchsincehefirstseteyesonit．Edmundnowventuredalittlenearer，stillkeepingintheshadowofthearchasmuchashecould．Henowsawfromthewaythelionwasstandingthatitcouldn’thavebeenlookingathimatall。（“Butsupposingitturnsitshead？”thoughtEdmund．）Infactitwasstaringatsomethingelse—namelyalittle：dwarfwhostoodwithhisbacktoitaboutfourfeetaway．“Aha！”thoughtEdmund。“Whenitspringsatthedwarfthenwillbemychancetoescape。”Butstillthelionnevermoved，nordidthedwarf．AndnowatlastEdmundrememberedwhattheothershadsaidabouttheWhiteWitchturningpeopleintostone．Perhapsthiswasonlyastonelion。Andassoonashehadthoughtofthathenoticedthatthelion’sbackandthetopofitsheadwerecoveredwithsnow．Ofcourseitmustbeonlyastatue！Nolivinganimalwouldhaveletitselfgetcoveredwithsnow．Thenveryslowlyandwithhisheartbeatingasifitwouldburst，Edmundventuredtogouptothelion．Evennowhehardlydaredtotouchit，butatlastheputouthishand，veryquickly，anddid．Itwascoldstone．Hehadbeenfrightenedofamerestatue！

ThereliefwhichEdmundfeltwassogreatthatinspiteofthecoldhesuddenlygotwarmalloverrightdowntohistoes，andatthesametimetherecameintohisheadwhatseemedaperfectlylovelyidea．“Probably，”hethought，“thisisthegreatLionAslanthattheywerealltalkingabout．She’scaughthimalreadyandturnedhimintostone．Sothat’stheendofalltheirfineideasabouthim！Pooh！Who’safraidofAslan？”

Andhestoodtheregloatingoverthestonelion，andpresentlyhedidsomethingverysillyandchildish．Hetookastumpofleadpenciloutofhispocketandscribbledamoustacheonthelion’supperlipandthenapairofspectaclesonitseyes．Thenhesaid，“Yah！SillyoldAslan！Howdoyoulikebeingastone？Youthoughtyourselfmightyfine，didn’tyou？”Butinspiteofthescribblesonitthefaceofthegreatstonebeaststilllookedsoterrible，andsad，andnoble，staringupinthemoonlight，thatEdmunddidn’treallygetanyfunoutofjeeringatit．Heturnedawayandbegantocrossthecourtyard．

Ashegotintothemiddleofithesawthatthereweredozensofstatuesallabout-standinghereandthereratherasthepiecesstandonachess-boardwhenitishalf-waythroughthegame．Therewerestonesatyrs，andstonewolves，andbearsandfoxesandcat-mountainsofstone．Therewerelovelystoneshapesthatlookedlikewomenbutwhowerereallythespiritsoftrees．TherewasthegreatshapeofacentaurandawingedhorseandalonglithecreaturethatEdmundtooktobeadragon．Theyalllookedsostrangestandingthereperfectlylife-likeandalsoperfectlystill，inthebrightcoldmoonlight，thatitwaseerieworkcrossingthecourtyard。Rightintheverymiddlestoodahugeshapelikeaman，butastallasatree，withafiercefaceandashaggybeardandagreatclubinitsrighthand．Eventhoughheknewthatitwasonlyastonegiantandnotaliveone，Edmunddidnotlikegoingpastit．

Henowsawthattherewasadimlightshowingfromadoorwayonthefarsideofthecourtyard．Hewenttoit；therewasaflightofstonestepsgoinguptoanopendoor．Edmundwentupthem．Acrossthethresholdlayagreatwolf．

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