《银椅子》 第九章 真相

CHAPTER NINE HOW THEY DISCOVERED SOMETHING WORTH KNOWING

THE others admitted afterwards that Jill had been wonderful that day. As soon as the King and the rest of the hunting party had set off，she began making a tour of the whole castle and asking questions，but all in such an innocent，babyish way that no one could suspect her of any secret design. Though her tongue was never still，you could hardly say she talked：she prattled and giggled. She made love to everyone—the grooms，the porters， the housemaids，the ladies-in-waiting，and the elderly giant lords whose hunting days were past. She submitted to being kissed and pawed about by any number of giantesses，many of whom seemed sorry for her and called her“a poor little thing”though none of them explained why. She made especial friends with the cook and discovered the all-important fact there was a scullery door which let you out through the outer wall，so that you did not have to cross the courtyard or pass the great gatehouse. In the kitchen she pretended to be greedy，and ate all sorts of scraps which the cook and scullions delighted to give her. But upstairs among the ladies she asked questions about how she would be dressed for the great feast，and how long she would be allowed to sit up，and whether she would dance with some very，very small giant. And then（it made her hot all over when she remembered it afterwards）she would put her head on one side in an idiotic fashion which grown-ups，giant and otherwise，thought very fetching，and shake her curls，and fidget，and say，“Oh，I do wish it was tomorrow night，don’t you ？ Do you think the time will go quickly till then ？”And all the giantesses said she was a perfect little darling； and some of them dabbed their eyes with enormous handkerchiefs as if they were going to cry.
“They’re dear little things at that age,”said one giantess to another. “It seems almost a pity...”
Scrubb and Puddleglum both did their best，but girls do that kind of thing better than boys. Even boys do it better than Marsh-wiggles.
At lunchtime something happened which made all three of them more anxious than ever to leave the castle of the Gentle Giants. They had lunch in the great hall at a little table of their own，near the fireplace. At a bigger table，about twenty yards away，half a dozen old giants were lunching. Their conversation was so noisy， and so high up in the air，that the children soon took no more notice of it than you would of hooters outside the window or traffic noises in the street. They were eating cold venison，a kind of food which Jill had never tasted before，and she was liking it.
Suddenly Puddleglum turned to them，and his face had gone so pale that you could see the paleness under the natural muddiness of his complexion. He said：
“Don’t eat another bite.”
“What’s wrong ？”asked the other two in a whisper.
“Didn’t you hear what those giants were saying ？‘That’s a nice tender haunch of venison，’ said one of them. ‘Then that stag was a liar，’ said another. ‘Why ？’said the first one. ‘Oh，’ said the other. ‘They say that when he was caught he said，Don’t kill me，I’m tough. You won’t like me.’‘For a moment Jill did not realize the full meaning of this. But she did when Scrubb’s eyes opened wide with horror and he said：
“So we’ve been eating a Talking stag.”
This discovery didn’t have exactly the same effect on all of them. Jill，who was new to that world，was sorry for the poor stag and thought it rotten of the giants to have killed him. Scrubb，who had been in that world before and had at least one Talking beast as his dear friend，felt horrified；as you might feel about a murder. But Puddleglum，who was Narnian born，was sick and faint，and felt as you would feel if you found you had eaten a baby.
“We’ve brought the anger of Aslan on us,”he said. “That’s what comes of not attending to the signs. We’re under a curse，I expect. If it was allowed，it would be the best thing we could do， to take these knives and drive them into our own hearts.”
And gradually even Jill came to see it from his point of view. At any rate，none of them wanted any more lunch. And as soon as they thought it safe they crept quietly out of the hall.
It was now drawing near to that time of the day on which their hopes of escape depended，and all became nervous. They hung about in passages and waited for things to become quiet. The giants in the hall sat on a dreadfully long time after the meal was over. The bald one was telling a story. When that was over，the three travellers dawdled down to the kitchen. But there were still plenty of giants there，or at least in the scullery，washing up and putting things away. It was agonizing，waiting till these finished their jobs and，one by one，wiped their hands and went away. At last only one old giantess was left in the room. She pottered about，and pottered about，and at last the three travellers realized with horror that she did not intend to go away at all.
“Well，dearies,”she said to them. “That job’s about through. Let’s put the kettle there. That’ll make a nice cup of tea presently. Now I can have a little bit of a rest. Just look into the scullery，like good poppets，and tell me if the back door is open.”
“Yes，it is,”said Scrubb.
“That’s right. I always leave it open so as Puss can get in and out，the poor thing.”
Then she sat down on one chair and put her feet up on another.
“I don’t know as I mightn’t have forty winks,”said the giantess. “If only that blarney hunting party doesn’t come back too soon.”
All their spirits leaped up when she mentioned forty winks， and flopped down again when she mentioned the return of the hunting party.
“When do they usually comeback ？”asked Jill.
“You never can tell,”said the giantess. “But there；go and be quiet for a bit，my dearies.”
They retreated to the far end of the kitchen，and would have slipped out into the scullery there and then if the giantess had not sat up，opened her eyes，and brushed away a fly. “Don’t try it till we’re sure she’s really asleep,”whispered Scrubb. “Or it’ll spoil everything.”So they all huddled at the kitchen end，waiting and watching. The thought that the hunters might come back at any moment was terrible. And the giantess was fidgety. Whenever they thought she had really gone to sleep，she moved.
“I can’t bear this,”thought Jill. To distract her mind，she began looking about her. Just in front of her was a clean wide table with two clean pie-dishes on it，and an open book. They were giant pie-dishes of course. Jill thought that she could lie down just comfortably in one of them. Then she climbed up on the bench beside the table to look at the book. She read：
MALLARD. This delicious bird can be cooked in a variety of ways.
“It’s a cookery book,”thought Jill without much interest，and glanced over her shoulder. The giantess’s eyes were shut but she didn’t look as if she were properly asleep. Jill glanced back at the book. It was arranged alphabetically：and at the very next entry her heart seemed to stop beating；It ran—
MAN. This elegant little biped has long been valued as a delicacy. It forms a traditional part of the Autumn Feast，and is served between the fish and the joint. Each Man—but she could not bear to read any more. She turned round. The giantess had wakened up and was having a fit of coughing. Jill nudged the other two and pointed to the book. They also mounted the bench and bent over the huge pages. Scrubb was still reading about how to cook Men when Puddleglum pointed to the next entry below it. It was like this：
MARSH-WIGGLE. Some authorities reject this animal altogether as unfit for giants’ consumption because of its stringy consistency and muddy flavour. The flavour can，however，be greatly reduced if—
Jill touched his feet，and Scrubb’s，gently. All three looked back at the giantess. Her mouth was slightly open and from her nose there came a sound which at that moment was more welcome to them than any music；she snored. And now it was a question of tip-toe work，not daring to go too fast，hardly daring to breathe， out through the scullery（giant sculleries smell horrid），out at last into the pale sunlight of a winter afternoon.
They were at the top of a rough little path which ran steeply down. And，thank heavens，on the right side of the castle；the City Ruinous was in sight. In a few minutes they were back on the broad，steep road which led down from the main gate of the castle. They were also in full view from every single window on that side. If it had been one，or two，or five windows there’d be a reasonable chance that no one might be looking out. But there were nearer fifty than five. They now realized，too，that the road on which they were，and indeed all the ground between them and the City Ruinous，didn’t offer as much cover as would hide a fox；it was all coarse grass and pebbles and flat stones. To make matters worse，they were now in the clothes that the giants had provided for them last night：except Puddleglum，whom nothing would fit. Jill wore a vivid green robe，rather too long for her， and over that a scarlet mantle fringed with white fur. Scrubb had scarlet stockings，blue tunic and cloak，a gold-hilted sword，and a feathered bonnet.
“Nice bits of colour，you two are,”muttered Puddleglum. “Show up very prettily on a winter day. The worst archer in the world couldn’t miss either of you if you were in range. And talking of archers，we’ll be sorry not to have our own bows before long，I shouldn’t wonder. Bit thin，too，those clothes of yours，are they ？”
“Yes，I’m freezing already,”said Jill.
A few minutes ago when they had been in the kitchen，she had thought that if only they could once get out of the castle，their escape would be almost complete. She now realized that the most dangerous part of it was still to come.
“Steady，steady,”said Puddleglum. “Don’t look back. Don’t walk too quickly. Whatever you do，don’t run. Look as if we were just taking a stroll，and then，if anyone sees us，he might， just possibly，not bother. The moment we look like people running away，we’re done.”
The distance to the City Ruinous seemed longer than Jill would have believed possible. But bit by bit they were covering it. Then came a noise. The other two gasped. Jill，who didn’t know what it was，said，“What’s that ？”
“Hunting horn,”whispered Scrubb.
“But don’t run even now,”said Puddleglum. “Not until I give the word.”
This time Jill couldn’t help glancing over her shoulder. There，about half a mile away，was the hunt returning from behind them on the left.
They walked on. Suddenly a great clamour of giant voices arose：then shouts and hollas.
“They’ve seen us. Run,”said Puddleglum.
Jill gathered up her long skirts—horrible things for running in—and ran. There was no mistaking the danger now. She could hear the music of the hounds. She could hear the King’s voice roaring out，“After them，after them，or we’ll have no man-pies tomorrow.”
She was last of the three now，cumbered with her dress， slipping on loose stones，her hair getting in her mouth，running-pains across her chest. The hounds were much nearer. Now she had to run uphill，up the stony slope which led to the lowest step of the giant stairway. She had no idea what they would do when they got there，or how they would be any better off even if they reached the top. But she didn’t think about that. She was like a hunted animal now；as long as the pack was after her，she must run till she dropped.
The Marsh-wiggle was ahead. As he came to the lowest step he stopped，looked a little to his right，and all of a sudden darted into a little hole or crevice at the bottom of it. His long legs， disappearing into it，looked very like those of a spider. Scrubb hesitated and then vanished after him. Jill，breathless and reeling， came to the place about a minute later. It was an unattractive hole— a crack between the earth and the stone about three feet long and hardly more than a foot high. You had to fling yourself flat on your face and crawl in. You couldn’t do it so very quickly either. She felt sure that a dog’s teeth would close on her heel before she had got inside.
“Quick，quick. Stones. Fill up the opening,”came Puddleglum’s voice in the darkness beside her. It was pitch black in there，except for the grey light in the opening by which they had crawled in. The other two were working hard. She could see Scrubb’s small hands and the Marsh-wiggle’s big，frog-like hands black against the light，working desperately to pile up stones. Then she realized how important this was and began groping for large stones herself， and handing them to the others. Before the dogs were baying and yelping at the cave mouth，they had it pretty well filled；and now，of course，there was no light at all.
“Farther in，quick,”said Puddleglum’s voice.
“Let’s all hold hands,”said Jill.
“Good idea,”said Scrubb. But it took them quite a long time to find one another’s hands in the darkness. The dogs were sniffing at the other side of the barrier now.
“Try if we can stand up,”suggested Scrubb. They did and found that they could. Then，Puddleglum holding out a hand behind him to Scrubb，and Scrubb holding a hand out behind him to Jill（who wished very much that she was the middle one of the party and not the last），they began groping with their feet and stumbling forwards into the blackness. It was all loose stones underfoot. Then Puddleglum came up to a wall of rock. They turned a little to their right and went on. There were a good many more twists and turns. Jill had now no sense of direction at all，and no idea where the mouth of the cave lay.
“The question is,”came Puddleglum’s voice out of the darkness ahead，“whether，taking one thing with another，it wouldn’t be better to go back（if we can）and give the giants a treat at that feast of theirs，instead of losing our way in the guts of a hill where，ten to one，there’s dragons and deep holes and gases and water and— Ow ！ Let go ！ Save yourselves. I’m—”
After that all happened quickly. There was a wild cry，a swishing，dusty，gravelly noise，a rattle of stones，and Jill found herself sliding，sliding，hopelessly sliding，and sliding quicker every moment down a slope that grew steeper every moment. It was not a smooth，firm slope，but a slope of small stones and rubbish. Even if you could have stood up，it would have been no use. Any bit of that slope you had put your foot on would have slid away from under you and carried you down with it. But Jill was more lying than standing. And the farther they all slid，the more they disturbed all the stones and earth，so that the general downward rush of everything（including themselves）got faster and louder and dustier and dirtier. From the sharp cries and swearing of the other two，Jill got the idea that many of the stones which she was dislodging were hitting Scrubb and Puddleglum pretty hard. And now she was going at a furious rate and felt sure she would be broken to bits at the bottom.
Yet somehow they weren’t. They were a mass of bruises，and the wet，sticky stuff on her face appeared to be blood. And such a mass of loose earth，shingle，and larger stones was piled up round her（and partly over her）that she couldn’t get up. The darkness was so complete that it made no difference at all whether you had your eyes open or shut. There was no noise. And that was the very worst moment Jill had ever known in her life. Supposing she was alone：supposing the others...Then she heard movements around her. And presently all three，in shaken voices，were explaining that none of them seemed to have any broken bones.
“We can never get up that again,”said Scrubb’s voice.
“And have you noticed how warm it is ？”said the voice of Puddleglum. “That means we’re a long way down. Might be nearly a mile.”
No one said anything. Some time later Puddleglum added：
“My tinder-box has gone.”
After another long pause Jill said，“I’m terribly thirsty.”
No one suggested doing anything. There was so obviously nothing to be done. For the moment，they did not feel it quite so badly as one might have expected；that was because they were so tired.
Long，long afterwards，without the slightest warning， an utterly strange voice spoke. They knew at once that it was not the one voice in the whole world for which each had secretly been hoping；the voice of Aslan. It was a dark，flat voice—almost，if you know what that means，a pitch-black voice. It said：
“What make you here，creatures of the Overworld ？”