The Chronicles of Narnia Complete 7-Book Collection with Bonus Book

by C. S. Lewis

  “That is a point,” said the Professor, “which certainly deserves consideration; very careful consideration. For instance—if you will excuse me for asking the question—does your experience lead you to regard your brother or your sister as the more reliable? I mean, which is the more truthful?”

  “That’s just the funny thing about it, sir,” said Peter. “Up till now, I’d have said Lucy every time.”

  “And what do you think, my dear?” said the Professor, turning to Susan.

  “Well,” said Susan, “in general, I’d say the same as Peter, but this couldn’t be true—all this about the wood and the Faun.”

  “That is more than I know,” said the Professor, “and a charge of lying against someone whom you have always found truthful is a very serious thing; a very serious thing indeed.”

  “We were afraid it mightn’t even be lying,” said Susan; “we thought there might be something wrong with Lucy.”

  “Madness, you mean?” said the Professor quite coolly. “Oh, you can make your minds easy about that. One has only to look at her and talk to her to see that she is not mad.”

  “But then,” said Susan, and stopped. She had never dreamed that a grown-up would talk like the Professor and didn’t know what to think.

  “Logic!” said the Professor half to himself. “Why don’t they teach logic at these schools? There are only three possibilities. Either your sister is telling lies, or she is mad, or she is telling the truth. You know she doesn’t tell lies and it is obvious that she is not mad. For the moment then and unless any further evidence turns up, we must assume that she is telling the truth.”

  Susan looked at him very hard and was quite sure from the expression on his face that he was not making fun of them.

  “But how could it be true, sir?” said Peter.

  “Why do you say that?” asked the Professor.

  “Well, for one thing,” said Peter, “if it was real why doesn’t everyone find this country every time they go to the wardrobe? I mean, there was nothing there when we looked; even Lucy didn’t pretend there was.”

  “What has that to do with it?” said the Professor.

  “Well, sir, if things are real, they’re there all the time.”

  “Are they?” said the Professor; and Peter did not know quite what to say.

  “But there was no time,” said Susan. “Lucy had had no time to have gone anywhere, even if there was such a place. She came running after us the very moment we were out of the room. It was less than a minute, and she pretended to have been away for hours.”

  “That is the very thing that makes her story so likely to be true,” said the Professor. “If there really is a door in this house that leads to some other world (and I should warn you that this is a very strange house, and even I know very little about it)—if, I say, she had got into another world, I should not be at all surprised to find that the other world had a separate time of its own; so that however long you stayed there it would never take up any of our time. On the other hand, I don’t think many girls of her age would invent that idea for themselves. If she had been pretending, she would have hidden for a reasonable time before coming out and telling her story.”

  “But do you really mean, sir,” said Peter, “that there could be other worlds—all over the place, just round the corner—like that?”

  “Nothing is more probable,” said the Professor, taking off his spectacles and beginning to polish them, while he muttered to himself, “I wonder what they do teach them at these schools.”

  “But what are we to do?” said Susan. She felt that the conversation was beginning to get off the point.

  “My dear young lady,” said the Professor, suddenly looking up with a very sharp expression at both of them, “there is one plan which no one has yet suggested and which is well worth trying.”

  “What’s that?” said Susan.

  “We might all try minding our own business,” said he. And that was the end of that conversation.

  After this, things were a good deal better for Lucy. Peter saw to it that Edmund stopped jeering at her, and neither she nor anyone else felt inclined to talk about the wardrobe at all. It had become a rather alarming subject. And so for a time it looked as if all the adventures were coming to an end; but that was not to be.

  This house of the Professor’s—which even he knew so little about—was so old and famous that people from all over England used to come and ask permission to see over it. It was the sort of house that is mentioned in guide books and even in histories; and well it might be, for all manner of stories were told about it, some of them even stranger than the one I am telling you now. And when parties of sightseers arrived and asked to see the house, the Professor always gave them permission, and Mrs. Macready, the housekeeper, showed them round, telling them about the pictures and the armor, and the rare books in the library. Mrs. Macready was not fond of children, and did not like to be interrupted when she was telling visitors all the things she knew. She had said to Susan and Peter almost on the first morning (along with a good many other instructions), “And please remember you’re to keep out of the way whenever I’m taking a party over the house.”

  “Just as if any of us would want to waste half the morning trailing round with a crowd of strange grown-ups!” said Edmund, and the other three thought the same. That was how the adventures began for the second time.

  A few mornings later Peter and Edmund were looking at the suit of armor and wondering if they could take it to bits when the two girls rushed into the room and said, “Look out! Here comes the Macready and a whole gang with her.”

  “Sharp’s the word,” said Peter, and all four made off through the door at the far end of the room. But when they had got out into the Green Room and beyond it, into the Library, they suddenly heard voices ahead of them, and realized that Mrs. Macready must be bringing her party of sightseers up the back stairs—instead of up the front stairs as they had expected. And after that—whether it was that they lost their heads, or that Mrs. Macready was trying to catch them, or that some magic in the house had come to life and was chasing them into Narnia—they seemed to find themselves being followed everywhere, until at last Susan said, “Oh, bother those trippers! Here—let’s get into the Wardrobe Room till they’ve passed. No one will follow us in there.” But the moment they were inside they heard the voices in the passage—and then someone fumbling at the door—and then they saw the handle turning.

  “Quick!” said Peter, “there’s nowhere else,” and flung open the wardrobe. All four of them bundled inside it and sat there, panting, in the dark. Peter held the door closed but did not shut it; for, of course, he remembered, as every sensible person does, that you should never never shut yourself up in a wardrobe.

  Chapter Six

  Into the Forest

  “I WISH THE MACREADY WOULD HURRY UP AND TAKE all these people away,” said Susan presently, “I’m getting horribly cramped.”

  “And what a filthy smell of camphor!” said Edmund.

  “I expect the pockets of these coats are full of it,” said Susan, “to keep away moths.”

  “There’s something sticking into my back,” said Peter.

  “And isn’t it cold?” said Susan.

  “Now that you mention it, it is cold,” said Peter, “and hang it all, it’s wet too. What’s the matter with this place? I’m sitting on something wet. It’s getting wetter every minute.” He struggled to his feet.

  “Let’s get out,” said Edmund, “they’ve gone.”

  “O-o-oh!” said Susan suddenly, and everyone asked her what was the matter.

  “I’m sitting against a tree,” said Susan, “and look! It’s getting light—over there.”

  “By jove, you’re right,” said Peter, “and look there—and there. It’s trees all round. And this wet stuff is snow. Why, I do believe we’ve got into Lucy’s wood after all.”

  And now there was no mistaking it, and all four children stood blinking in the
daylight of a winter day. Behind them were coats hanging on pegs, in front of them were snow-covered trees.

  Peter turned at once to Lucy.

  “I apologize for not believing you,” he said, “I’m sorry. Will you shake hands?”

  “Of course,” said Lucy, and did.

  “And now,” said Susan, “what do we do next?”

  “Do?” said Peter, “why, go and explore the wood, of course.”

  “Ugh!” said Susan, stamping her feet, “it’s pretty cold. What about putting on some of these coats?”

  “They’re not ours,” said Peter doubtfully.

  “I am sure nobody would mind,” said Susan; “it isn’t as if we wanted to take them out of the house; we shan’t take them even out of the wardrobe.”

  “I never thought of that, Su,” said Peter. “Of course, now you put it that way, I see. No one could say you had bagged a coat as long as you leave it in the wardrobe where you found it. And I suppose this whole country is in the wardrobe.”

  They immediately carried out Susan’s very sensible plan. The coats were rather too big for them so that they came down to their heels and looked more like royal robes than coats when they had put them on. But they all felt a good deal warmer and each thought the others looked better in their new getups and more suitable to the landscape.

  “We can pretend we are Arctic explorers,” said Lucy.

  “This is going to be exciting enough without pretending,” said Peter, as he began leading the way forward into the forest. There were heavy darkish clouds overhead and it looked as if there might be more snow before night.

  “I say,” began Edmund presently, “oughtn’t we to be bearing a bit more to the left, that is, if we are aiming for the lamp-post?” He had forgotten for the moment that he must pretend never to have been in the wood before. The moment the words were out of his mouth he realized that he had given himself away. Everyone stopped; everyone stared at him. Peter whistled.

  “So you really were here,” he said, “that time Lu said she’d met you in here—and you made out she was telling lies.”

  There was a dead silence. “Well, of all the poisonous little beasts—” said Peter, and shrugged his shoulders and said no more. There seemed, indeed, no more to say, and presently the four resumed their journey; but Edmund was saying to himself, “I’ll pay you all out for this, you pack of stuck-up, self-satisfied prigs.”

  “Where are we going anyway?” said Susan, chiefly for the sake of changing the subject.

  “I think Lu ought to be the leader,” said Peter; “goodness knows she deserves it. Where will you take us, Lu?”

  “What about going to see Mr. Tumnus?” said Lucy. “He’s the nice Faun I told you about.”

  Everyone agreed to this and off they went walking briskly and stamping their feet. Lucy proved a good leader. At first she wondered whether she would be able to find the way, but she recognized an odd-looking tree on one place and a stump in another and brought them on to where the ground became uneven and into the little valley and at last to the very door of Mr. Tumnus’s cave. But there a terrible surprise awaited them.

  The door had been wrenched off its hinges and broken to bits. Inside, the cave was dark and cold and had the damp feel and smell of a place that had not been lived in for several days. Snow had drifted in from the doorway and was heaped on the floor, mixed with something black, which turned out to be the charred sticks and ashes from the fire. Someone had apparently flung it about the room and then stamped it out. The crockery lay smashed on the floor and the picture of the Faun’s father had been slashed into shreds with a knife.

  “This is a pretty good washout,” said Edmund; “not much good coming here.”

  “What is this?” said Peter, stooping down. He had just noticed a piece of paper which had been nailed through the carpet to the floor.

  “Is there anything written on it?” asked Susan.

  “Yes, I think there is,” answered Peter, “but I can’t read it in this light. Let’s get out into the open air.”

  They all went out in the daylight and crowded round Peter as he read out the following words:

  The former occupant of these premises, the Faun Tumnus, is under arrest and awaiting his trial on a charge of High Treason against her Imperial Majesty Jadis, Queen of Narnia, Chatelaine of Cair Paravel, Empress of the Lone Islands, etc., also of comforting her said Majesty’s enemies, harboring spies and fraternizing with Humans.

  signed MAUGRIM, Captain of the Secret Police,

  LONG LIVE THE QUEEN!

  The children stared at each other.

  “I don’t know that I’m going to like this place after all,” said Susan.

  “Who is this Queen, Lu?” said Peter. “Do you know anything about her?”

  “She isn’t a real queen at all,” answered Lucy; “she’s a horrible witch, the White Witch. Everyone—all the wood people—hate her. She has made an enchantment over the whole country so that it is always winter here and never Christmas.”

  “I—I wonder if there’s any point in going on,” said Susan. “I mean, it doesn’t seem particularly safe here and it looks as if it won’t be much fun either. And it’s getting colder every minute, and we’ve brought nothing to eat. What about just going home?”

  “Oh, but we can’t, we can’t,” said Lucy suddenly; “don’t you see? We can’t just go home, not after this. It is all on my account that the poor Faun has got into this trouble. He hid me from the Witch and showed me the way back. That’s what it means by comforting the Queen’s enemies and fraternizing with Humans. We simply must try to rescue him.”

  “A lot we could do!” said Edmund, “when we haven’t even got anything to eat!”

  “Shut up—you!” said Peter, who was still very angry with Edmund. “What do you think, Susan?”

  “I’ve a horrid feeling that Lu is right,” said Susan. “I don’t want to go a step further and I wish we’d never come. But I think we must try to do something for Mr. Whatever-his-name is—I mean the Faun.”

  “That’s what I feel too,” said Peter. “I’m worried about having no food with us. I’d vote for going back and getting something from the larder, only there doesn’t seem to be any certainty of getting into this country again when once you’ve got out of it. I think we’ll have to go on.”

  “So do I,” said both the girls.

  “If only we knew where the poor chap was imprisoned!” said Peter.

  They were all still wondering what to do next, when Lucy said, “Look! There’s a robin, with such a red breast. It’s the first bird I’ve seen here. I say!—I wonder can birds talk in Narnia? It almost looks as if it wanted to say something to us.” Then she turned to the Robin and said, “Please, can you tell us where Tumnus the Faun has been taken to?” As she said this she took a step toward the bird. It at once flew away but only as far as to the next tree. There it perched and looked at them very hard as if it understood all they had been saying. Almost without noticing that they had done so, the four children went a step or two nearer to it. At this the Robin flew away again to the next tree and once more looked at them very hard. (You couldn’t have found a robin with a redder chest or a brighter eye.)

  “Do you know,” said Lucy, “I really believe he means us to follow him.”

  “I’ve an idea he does,” said Susan. “What do you think, Peter?”

  “Well, we might as well try it,” answered Peter.

  The Robin appeared to understand the matter thoroughly. It kept going from tree to tree, always a few yards ahead of them, but always so near that they could easily follow it. In this way it led them on, slightly downhill. Wherever the Robin alighted a little shower of snow would fall off the branch. Presently the clouds parted overhead and the winter sun came out and the snow all around them grew dazzlingly bright. They had been traveling in this way for about half an hour, with the two girls in front, when Edmund said to Peter, “If you’re not still too high and mighty to talk to me, I’ve somet
hing to say which you’d better listen to.”

  “What is it?” asked Peter.

  “Hush! Not so loud,” said Edmund; “there’s no good frightening the girls. But have you realized what we’re doing?”

  “What?” said Peter, lowering his voice to a whisper.

  “We’re following a guide we know nothing about. How do we know which side that bird is on? Why shouldn’t it be leading us into a trap?”

  “That’s a nasty idea. Still—a robin, you know. They’re good birds in all the stories I’ve ever read. I’m sure a robin wouldn’t be on the wrong side.”

  “If it comes to that, which is the right side? How do we know that the Fauns are in the right and the Queen (yes, I know we’ve been told she’s a witch) is in the wrong? We don’t really know anything about either.”

  “The Faun saved Lucy.”

  “He said he did. But how do we know? And there’s another thing too. Has anyone the least idea of the way home from here?”

  “Great Scott!” said Peter. “I hadn’t thought of that.”

  “And no chance of dinner either,” said Edmund.

  Chapter Seven

  A Day with the Beavers

  WHILE THE TWO BOYS WERE WHISPERING BEHIND, both the girls suddenly cried “Oh!” and stopped.

  “The robin!” cried Lucy, “the robin. It’s flown away.” And so it had—right out of sight.

  “And now what are we to do?” said Edmund, giving Peter a look which was as much as to say “What did I tell you?”

  “Sh! Look!” said Susan.

  “What?” said Peter.

  “There’s something moving among the trees over there to the left.”

  They all stared as hard as they could, and no one felt very comfortable.

  “There it goes again,” said Susan presently.

  “I saw it that time too,” said Peter. “It’s still there. It’s just gone behind that big tree.”