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WHENJillwokenextmorningandfoundherselfinacave,shethoughtforonehorridmomentthatshewasbackintheUnderworld.Butwhenshenoticedthatshewaslyingonabedofheatherwithafurrymantleoverher,andsawacheeryfirecrackling(asifnewlylit)onastonehearthand,fartheroff,morningsunlightcominginthroughthecave’smouth,sherememberedallthehappytruth.Theyhadhadadelightfulsupper,allcrowdedintothatcave,inspiteofbeingsosleepybeforeitwasproperlyover.ShehadavagueimpressionofDwarfscrowdingroundthefirewithfrying-pansratherbiggerthanthemselves,andthehissing,anddelicioussmellofsausages,andmore,andmore,andmoresausages.Andnotwretchedsausageshalffullofbreadandsoyabeaneither,butrealmeaty,spicyones,fatandpipinghotandburstandjustthetiniestbitburnt.Andgreatmugsoffrothychocolate,androastpotatoesandroastchestnuts,andbakedappleswithraisinsstuckinwherethecoreshadbeen,andthenicesjusttofreshenyouupafterallthehotthings.
Jillsatupandlookedaround.PuddleglumandEustacewerelyingnotfaraway,bothfastasleep.
“Hi,youtwo!”shoutedJillinaloudvoice.“Aren’tyouevergoingtogetup?”
“Shoo,shoo!”saidasleepyvoicesomewhereaboveher.“Timetobesettlingdown.Haveagoodsnooze,do,do.Don’tmakeato-do.Tu-whoo!”
“Why,Idobelieve,”saidJill,glancingupatawhitebundleoffluffyfeatherswhichwasperchedontopofagrandfatherclockinonecornerofthecave,“Idobelieveit’sGlimfeather!”
“True,true,”whirredtheOwl,liftingitsheadoutfromunderitswingandopeningoneeye.“IcameupwithamessageforthePrinceatabouttwo.Thesquirrelsbroughtusthegoodnews.MessageforthePrince.He’sgone.You’retofollowtoo.Good-day—”andtheheaddisappearedagain.
AsthereseemednofurtherhopeofgettinganyinformationfromtheOwl,Jillgotupandbeganlookingroundforanychanceofawashandsomebreakfast.ButalmostatoncealittleFauncametrottingintothecavewithasharpclick-clackofhisgoatyhoofsonthestonefloor.
“Ah!You’vewokenupatlast,DaughterofEve,”hesaid.“Perhapsyou’dbetterwaketheSonofAdaYou’vegottobeoffinafewminutesandtwoCentaurshaveverykindlyofferedtoletyourideontheirbacksdowntoCairParavel.”Headdedinalowervoice.“Ofcourse,yourealizeitisamostspecialandunheard-ofhonourtobeallowedtorideaCentaur.Idon’tknowthatIeverheardofanyonedoingitbefore.Itwouldn’tdotokeepthemwaiting.”
“Where’sthePrince?”wasthefirstquestionofEustaceandPuddleglumassoonastheyhadbeenwakened.
“He’sgonedowntomeettheKing,hisfather,atCairParavel,”answeredtheFaun,whosenamewasOrruns.“HisMajesty’sshipisexpectedinharbouranymoment.ItseemsthattheKingmetAslan—Idon’tknowwhetheritwasinavisionorfacetoface—beforehehadsailedfar,andAslanturnedhimbackandtoldhimhewouldfindhislong-lostsonawaitinghimwhenhereachedNarnia.”
EustacewasnowupandheandJillsetabouthelpingOrrunstogetthebreakfast.Puddleglumwastoldtostayinbed.ACentaurcalledCloudbirth,afamoushealer,or(asOrrunscalledit)a‘leech’,wascomingtoseetohisburntfoot.
“Ah!”saidPuddlegluminatonealmostofcontentment,“he’llwanttohavethelegoffattheknee,Ishouldn’twonder.Youseeifhedoesn’t.”Buthewasquitegladtostayinbed.
BreakfastwasscrambledeggsandtoastandEustacetackleditjustasifhehadnothadaverylargesupperinthemiddleofthenight.
“Isay,SonofAdam,”saidtheFaun,lookingwithacertainaweatEustace’smouthfuls.“There’snoneedtohurryquitesodreadfullyasthat.Idon’tthinktheCentaurshavequitefinishedtheirbreakfastsyet.”
“Thentheymusthavegotupverylate,”saidEustace.“Ibetit’safterteno’clock.”
“Ohno,”saidOrruns.“Theygotupbeforeitwaslight.”
“Thentheymusthavewaitedthedickensofatimeforbreakfast,”saidEustace.
“No,theydidn’t,”saidOrruns.“Theybeganeatingtheminutetheyawoke.”
“Golly!”saidEustace.“Dotheyeataverybigbreakfast?”
“Why,SonofAdam,don’tyouunderstand?ACentaurhasaman-stomachandahorse-stomach.Andofcoursebothwantbreakfast.Sofirstofallhehasporridgeandpavendersandkidneysandbaconandomeletteandcoldhamandtoastandmarmaladeandcoffeeandbeer.Andafterthatheattendstothehorsepartofhimselfbygrazingforanhourorsoandfinishingupwithahotmash,someoats,andabagofsugar.That’swhyit’ssuchaseriousthingtoaskaCentaurtostayfortheweekend.Averyseriousthingindeed.”
Atthatmomenttherewasasoundofhorse-hoofstappingonrockfromthemouthofthecave,andthechildrenlookedup.ThetwoCentaurs,onewithablackandonewithagoldenbeardflowingovertheirmagnificentbarechests,stoodwaitingforthem,bendingtheirheadsalittlesoastolookintothecave.Thenthechildrenbecameverypoliteandfinishedtheirbreakfastveryquickly.NoonethinksaCentaurfunnywhenheseesit.Theyaresolemn,majesticpeople,fullofancientwisdomwhichtheylearnfromthestars,noteasilymadeeithermerryorangry;buttheirangeristerribleasatidalwavewhenitcomes.
“Good-bye,dearPuddleglum,”saidJill,goingovertotheMarsh-wiggle’sbed.“I’msorrywecalledyouawetblanket.”
“So’mI,”saidEustace.“You’vebeenthebestfriendintheworld.”
“AndIdohopewe’llmeetagain,”addedJill.
“Notmuchchanceofthat,Ishouldsay,”repliedPuddleglu“1don’treckonI’mverylikelytoseemyoldwigwamagain,either.AndthatPrince—he’sanicechap—butdoyouthinkhe’sverystrong?Constitutionruinedwithlivingunderground,Ishouldn’twonder.Looksthesortthatmightgooffanyday.”
“Puddleglum!”saidJill.“You’rearegularoldhumbug.YousoundasdolefulasafuneralandIbelieveyou’reperfectlyhappy.Andyoutalkasifyouwereafraidofeverything,whenyou’rereallyasbraveas—asalion.”
“Now,speakingoffunerals,”beganPuddleglum,butJill,whoheardtheCentaurstappingwiththeirhoofsbehindher,surprisedhimverymuchbyflingingherarmsroundhisthinneckandkissinghismuddy-lookingface,whileEustacewrunghishand.ThentheybothrushedawaytotheCentaurs,andtheMarsh-wiggle,sinkingbackonhisbed,remarkedtohimself,“Well,Iwouldn’thavedreamtofherdoingthat.EventhoughIamagood-lookingchap.”
TorideonaCentauris,nodoubt,agreathonour(andexceptJillandEustace,thereisprobablynoonealiveintheworldtodaywhohashadit)butitisveryuncomfortable.FornoonewhovaluedhislifewouldsuggestputtingasaddleonaCentaur,andridingbare-backisnofun;especiallyif,likeEustace,youhaveneverlearnedtorideatall.TheCentaurswereverypoliteinagrave,gracious,grown-upkindofway,andastheycanteredthroughtheNarnianwoodstheyspoke,withoutturningtheirheads,tellingthechildrenaboutthepropertiesofherbsandroots,theinfluencesoftheplanets,theninenamesofAslanwiththeirmeanings,andthingsofthatsort.Buthoweversoreandjoltedthetwohumanswere,theywouldnowgiveanythingtohavethatjourneyoveragain:toseethosegladesandslopessparklingwithlastnight’ssnow,tobemetbyrabbitsandsquirrelsandbirdsthatwishedyougoodmorning,tobreatheagaintheairofNarniaandhearthevoicesoftheNarniantrees.
Theycamedowntotheriver,flowingbrightandblueinwintersunshine,farbelowthelastbridge(whichisatthesnug,red-roofedlittletownofBeruna)andwereferriedacrossinaflatbargebytheferryman;orrather,bytheferry-wiggle,foritisMarsh-wiggleswhodomostofthewateryandfishykindsofworkinNarnia.AndwhentheyhadcrossedtheyrodealongthesouthbankoftheriverandpresentlycametoCairParavelitself.AndattheverymomentoftheirarrivaltheysawthatsamebrightshipwhichtheyhadseenwhentheyfirstsetfootinNarnia,glidinguptheriverlikeahugebird.AllthecourtwereoncemoreassembledonthegreenbetweenthecastleandthequaytowelcomeKingCaspianhomeagain.Rilian,whohadchangedhisblackclothesandwasnowdressedinascarletcloakoversilvermail,stoodclosetothewater’sedge,bare-headed,toreceivehisfather;andtheDwarfTrumpkinsatbesidehiminhislittledonkey-chair.
ThechildrensawtherewouldbenochanceofreachingthePrincethroughallthatcrowd,and,anyway,theynowfeltrathershy.SotheyaskedtheCentaursiftheymightgoonsittingontheirbacksalittlelongerandthusseeeverythingovertheheadsofthecourtiers.AndtheCentaurssaidtheymight.
Aflourishofsilvertrumpetscameoverthewaterfromtheship’sdeck:thesailorsthrewarope;rats(TalkingRats,ofcourse)andMarsh-wigglesmadeitfastashore;andtheshipwaswarpedin.Musicians,hiddensomewhereinthecrowd,begantoplaysolemn,triumphalmusic.AndsoontheKing’sgalleonwasalongsideandtheRatsranthegangwayonboardher.
JillexpectedtoseetheoldKingcomedownit.Butthereappearedtobesomehitch.ALordwithapalefacecameashoreandknelttothePrinceandtoTrumpkin.Thethreeweretalkingwiththeirheadsclosetogetherforafewminutes,butnoonecouldhearwhattheysaid.Themusicplayedon,butyoucouldfeelthateveryonewasbecominguneasy.ThenfourKnights,carryingsomethingandgoingveryslowly,appearedondeck.Whentheystartedtocomedownthegangwayyoucouldseewhattheywerecarrying:itwastheoldKingonabed,verypaleandstill.Theysethimdown.ThePrincekneltbesidehimandembracedhiTheycouldseeKingCaspianraisinghishandtoblesshisson.Andeveryonecheered,butitwasahalf-heartedcheer,fortheyallfeltthatsomethingwasgoingwrong.ThensuddenlytheKing’sheadfellbackuponhispillows,themusiciansstoppedandtherewasadeadsilence.ThePrince,kneelingbytheKing’sbed,laiddownhisheaduponitandwept.
Therewerewhisperingsandgoingstoandfro.ThenJillnoticedthatallwhoworehats,bonnets,helmets,orhoodsweretakingthemoff—Eustaceincluded.Thensheheardarustlingandflappingnoiseupabovethecastle;whenshelookedshesawthatthegreatbannerwiththegoldenLiononitwasbeingbroughtdowntohalf-mast.Andafterthat,slowly,mercilessly,withwailingstringsanddisconsolateblowingofhorns,themusicbeganagain:thistime,atunetobreakyourheart.
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