Lewis, C.S. - Narnia 6 - The Silver Chair

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THE SILVER CHAIR
by C.S. Lewis
First published 1953
CHAPTER ONE
BEHIND THE GYM
IT was a dull autumn day and Jill Pole was crying behind the gym.
She was crying because they had been bullying her. This is not going to be a school story, so I
shall say as little as possible about Jill's school, which is not a pleasant subject. It was "Co-
educational," a school for both boys and girls, what used to be called a "mixed" school; some said
it was not nearly so mixed as the minds of the people who ran it. These people had the idea that
boys and girls should be allowed to do what they liked. And unfortunately what ten or fifteen of
the biggest boys and girls liked best was bullying the others. All sorts of things, horrid things,
went on which at an ordinary school would have been found out and stopped in half a term; but at
this school they weren't. Or even if they were, the people who did them were not expelled or
punished. The Head said they were interesting psychological cases and sent for them and talked to
them for hours. And if you knew the right sort of things to say to the Head, the main result was
that you became rather a favourite than otherwise.
That was why Jill Pole was crying on that dull autumn day on the damp little path which runs
between the back of the gym and the shrubbery. And she hadn't nearly finished her cry when a boy
came round the corner of the gym whistling, with his hands in his pockets. He nearly ran into her.
"Can't you look where you're going?" said Jill Pole.
"All right," said the boy, "you needn't start -" and then he noticed her face. "I say, Pole," he
said, "what's up?"
Jill only made faces; the sort you make when you're trying to say something but find that if you
speak you'll start crying again.
"It's Them, I suppose - as usual," said the boy grimly, digging his hands farther into his
pockets.
Jill nodded. There was no need for her to say anything, even if she could have said it. They both
knew.
"Now, look here," said the boy, "there's no good us all -"
He meant well, but he did talk rather like someone beginning a lecture. Jill suddenly flew into a
temper (which is quite a likely thing to happen if you have been interrupted in a cry).
"Oh, go away and mind your own business," she said. "Nobody asked you to come barging in, did
they? And you're a nice person to start telling us what we all ought to do, aren't you? I suppose
you mean we ought to spend all our time sucking up to Them, and currying favour, and dancing
attendance on Them like you do."
"Oh, Lor!" said the boy, sitting down on the grassy bank at the edge of the shrubbery and very
quickly getting up again because the grass was soaking wet. His name unfortunately was Eustace
Scrubb, but he wasn't a bad sort.
"Pole!" he said. "Is that fair? Have I been doing anything of the sort this term? Didn't I stand
up to Carter about the rabbit? And didn't I keep the secret about Spivvins - under torture too?
And didn't I -"
"I d-don't know and I don't care," sobbed Jill.
Scrubb saw that she wasn't quite herself yet and very sensibly offered her a peppermint. He had
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one too. Presently Jill began to see things in a clearer light.
"I'm sorry, Scrubb," she said presently. "I wasn't fair. You have done all that - this term."
"Then wash out last term if you can," said Eustace. "I was a different chap then. I was - gosh!
what a little tick I was."
"Well, honestly, you were," said Jill.
"You think there has been a change, then?" said Eustace.
"It's not only me," said Jill. "Everyone's been saying so. They've noticed it. Eleanor Blakiston
heard Adela Pennyfather talking about it in our changing room yesterday. She said, `Someone's got
hold of that Scrubb kid. He's quite unmanageable this term. We shall have to attend to him next.'"
Eustace gave a shudder. Everyone at Experiment House knew what it was like being "attended to" by
Them.
Both children were quiet for a moment. The drops dripped off the laurel leaves.
"Why were you so different last term?" said Jill presently.
"A lot of queer things happened to me in the hols," said Eustace mysteriously.
"What sort of things?" asked Jill.
Eustace didn't say anything for quite a long time. Then he said:
"Look here, Pole, you and I hate this place about as much as anybody can hate anything, don't we?"
"I know I do," said Jill.
"Then I really think I can trust you."
"Dam' good of you," said Jill.
"Yes, but this is a really terrific secret. Pole, I say, are you good at believing things? I mean
things that everyone here would laugh at?"
"I've never had the chance," said Jill, "but I think I would be."
"Could you believe me if I said I'd been right out of the world - outside this world - last hols?"
"I wouldn't know what you meant."
"Well, don't let's bother about that then. Supposing I told you I'd been in a place where animals
can talk and where there are - er - enchantments and dragons - and well, all the sorts of things
you have in fairy-tales." Scrubb felt terribly awkward as he said this and got red in the face.
"How did you get there?" said Jill. She also felt curiously shy.
"The only way you can - by Magic," said Eustace almost in a whisper. "I was with two cousins of
mine. We were just - whisked away. They'd been there before."
Now that they were talking in whispers Jill somehow felt it easier to believe. Then suddenly a
horrible suspicion came over her and she said (so fiercely that for the moment she looked like a
tigress):
"If I find you've been pulling my leg I'll never speak to you again; never, never, never."
"I'm not," said Eustace. "I swear I'm not. I swear by everything."
(When I was at school one would have said, "I swear by the Bible." But Bibles were not encouraged
at Experiment House.)
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"All right," said Jill, "I'll believe you."
"And tell nobody?"
"What do you take me for?"
They were very excited as they said this. But when they had said it and Jill looked round and saw
the dull autumn sky and heard the drip off the leaves and thought of all the hopelessness of
Experiment House (it was a thirteen-week term and there were still eleven weeks to come) she said:
"But after all, what's the good? We're not there: we're here. And we jolly well can't get there.
Or can we?"
"That's what I've been wondering," said Eustace. "When we came back from That Place, Someone said
that the two Pevensie kids (that's my two cousins) could never go there again. It was their third
time, you see. I suppose they've had their share. But he never said I couldn't. Surely he would
have said so, unless he meant that I was to get back? And I can't help wondering, can we - could
we -?"
"Do you mean, do something to make it happen?"
Eustace nodded.
"You mean we might draw a circle on the ground - and write in queer letters in it - and stand
inside it - and recite charms and spells?"
"Well," said Eustace after he had thought hard for a bit. "I believe that was the sort of thing I
was thinking of, though I never did it. But now that it comes to the point, I've an idea that all
those circles and things are rather rot. I don't think he'd like them. It would look as if we
thought we could make him do things. But really, we can only ask him."
"Who is this person you keep on talking about?"
"They call him Aslan in That Place," said Eustace.
"What a curious name!"
"Not half so curious as himself," said Eustace solemnly. "But let's get on. It can't do any harm,
just asking. Let's stand side by side, like this. And we'll hold out our arms in front of us with
the palms down: like they did in Ramandu's island -"
"Whose island?"
"I'll tell you about that another time. And he might like us to face the east. Let's see, where is
the east?"
"I don't know," said Jill.
"It's an extraordinary thing about girls that they never know the points of the compass," said
Eustace.
"You don't know either," said Jill indignantly.
"Yes I do, if only you didn't keep on interrupting. I've got it now. That's the east, facing up
into the laurels. Now, will you say the words after me?''
"What words?" asked Jill.
"The words I'm going to say, of course," answered Eustace. "Now -"
And he began, "Aslan, Aslan, Aslan!"
"Aslan, Aslan, Aslan," repeated Jill.
"Please let us two go into -"
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At that moment a voice from the other side of the gym was heard shouting out, "Pole? Yes. I know
where she is. She's blubbing behind the gym. Shall I fetch her out?"
Jill and Eustace gave one glance at each other, dived under the laurels, and began scrambling up
the steep, earthy slope of the shrubbery at a speed which did them great credit. (Owing to the
curious methods of teaching at Experiment House, one did not learn much French or Maths or Latin
or things of that sort; but one did learn a lot about getting away quickly and quietly when They
were looking for one.)
After about a minute's scramble they stopped to listen, and knew by the noises they heard that
they were being followed.
"If only the door was open again!" said Scrubb as they went on, and Jill nodded. For at the top of
the shrubbery was a high stone wall and in that wall a door by which you could get out on to open
moor. This door was nearly always locked. But there had been times when people had found it open;
or perhaps there had been only one time. But you may imagine how the memory of even one time kept
people hoping, and trying the door; for if it should happen to be unlocked it would be a splendid
way of getting outside the school grounds without being seen.
Jill and Eustace, now both very hot and very grubby from going along bent almost double under the
laurels, panted up to the wall. And there was the door, shut as usual.
"It's sure to be no good," said Eustace with his hand on the handle; and then, "O-o-oh. By Gum!!"
For the handle turned and the door opened.
A moment before, both of them had meant to get through that doorway in double quick time, if by
any chance the door was not locked. But when the door actually opened, they both stood stock
still. For what they saw was quite different from what they had expected.
They had expected to see the grey, heathery slope of the moor going up and up to join the dull
autumn sky. Instead, a blaze of sunshine met them. It poured through the doorway as the light of a
June day pours into a garage when you open the door. It made the drops of water on the grass
glitter like beads and showed up the dirtiness of Jill's tear-stained face. And the sunlight was
coming from what certainly did look like a different world - what they could see of it. They saw
smooth turf, smoother and brighter than Jill had ever seen before, and blue sky, and, darting to
and fro, things so bright that they might have been jewels or huge butterflies.
Although she had been longing for something like this, Jill felt frightened. She looked at
Scrubb's face and saw that he was frightened too.
"Come on, Pole," he said in a breathless voice.
"Can we get back? Is it safe?" asked Jill.
At that moment a voice shouted from behind, a mean, spiteful little voice. "Now then, Pole," it
squeaked. "Everyone knows you're there. Down you come." It was the voice of Edith Jackle, not one
of Them herself but one of their hangers-on and tale-bearers.
"Quick!" said Scrubb. "Here. Hold hands. We mustn't get separated." And before she quite knew what
was happening, he had grabbed her hand and pulled her through the door, out of the school grounds,
out of England, out of our whole world into That Place.
The sound of Edith Jackle's voice stopped as suddenly as the voice on the radio when it is
switched off. Instantly there was a quite different sound all about them. It came from those
bright things overhead, which now turned out to be birds. They were making a riotous noise, but it
was much more like music - rather advanced music which you don't quite take in at the first
hearing - than birds' songs ever are in our world. Yet, in spite of the singing, there was a sort
of background of immense silence. That silence, combined with the freshness of the air, made Jill
think they must be on the top of a very high mountain.
Scrubb still had her by the hand and they were walking forward, staring about them on every side.
Jill saw that huge trees, rather like cedars but bigger, grew in every direction. But as they did
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not grow close together, and as there was no undergrowth, this did not prevent one from seeing a
long way into the forest to left and right. And as far as Jill's eye could reach, it was all the
same - level turf, darting birds with yellow, or dragonfly blue, or rainbow plumage, blue shadows,
and emptiness. There was not a breath of wind in that cool, bright air. It was a very lonely
forest.
Right ahead there were no trees: only blue sky. They went straight on without speaking till
suddenly Jill heard Scrubb say, "Look out!" and felt herself jerked back. They were at the very
edge of a cliff.
Jill was one of those lucky people who have a good head for heights. She didn't mind in the least
standing on the edge of a precipice. She was rather annoyed with Scrubb for pulling her back -
"just as if I was a kid", she said and she wrenched her hand out of his. When she saw how very
white he had turned, she despised him.
"What's the matter?" she said. And to show that she was not afraid, she stood very near the edge
indeed; in fact, a good deal nearer than even she liked. Then she looked down.
She now realized that Scrubb had some excuse for looking white, for no cliff in our world is to be
compared with this. Imagine yourself at the top of the very highest cliff you know. And imagine
yourself looking down to the very bottom. And then imagine that the precipice goes on below that,
as far again, ten times as far, twenty times as far. And when you've looked down all that distance
imagine little white things that might, at first glance, be mistaken for sheep, but presently you
realize that they are clouds - not little wreaths of mist but the enormous white, puffy clouds
which are themselves as big as most mountains. And at last, in between those clouds, you get your
first glimpse of the real bottom, so far away that you can't make out whether it's field or wood,
or land or water: farther below those clouds than you are above them.
Jill stared at it. Then she thought that perhaps, after all, she would step back afoot or so from
the edge; but she didn't like to for fear of what Scrubb would think. Then she suddenly decided
that she didn't care what he thought, and that she would jolly well get away from that horrible
edge and never laugh at anyone for not liking heights again. But when she tried to move, she found
she couldn't. Her legs seemed to have turned into putty. Everything was swimming before her eyes.
"What are you doing, Pole? Come back-blithering little idiot!" shouted Scrubb. But his voice
seemed to he coming from a long way off. She felt him grabbing at her. But by now she had no
control over her own arms and legs. There was a moment's struggling on the cliff edge. Jill was
too frightened and dizzy to know quite what she was doing, but two things she remembered as long
as she lived (they often came back to her in dreams). One was that she had wrenched herself free
of Scrubb's clutches; the other was that, at the same moment, Scrubb himself, with a terrified
scream, had lost his balance and gone hurtling to the depths.
Fortunately, she was given no time to think over what she had done. Some huge, brightly coloured
animal had rushed to the edge of the cliff. It was lying down, leaning over, and (this was the odd
thing) blowing. Not roaring or snorting, but just blowing from its wide-opened mouth; blowing out
as steadily as a vacuum cleaner sucks in. Jill was lying so close to the creature that she could
feel the breath vibrating steadily through its body. She was lying still because she couldn't get
up. She was nearly fainting: indeed, she wished she could really faint, but faints don't come for
the asking. At last she saw, far away below her, a tiny black speck floating away from the cliff
and slightly upwards. As it rose, it also got farther away. By the time it was nearly on a level
with the cliff-top it was so far off that she lost sight of it. It was obviously moving away from
them at a great speed. Jill couldn't help thinking that the creature at her side was blowing it
away.
So she turned and looked at the creature. It was a lion.
CHAPTER TWO
JILL IS GIVEN A TASK
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WITHOUT a glance at Jill the lion rose to its feet and gave one last blow. Then, as if satisfied
with its work, it turned and stalked slowly away, back into the forest.
"It must be a dream, it must, it must," said Jill to herself. "I'll wake up in a moment." But it
wasn't, and she didn't.
"I do wish we'd never come to this dreadful place," said Jill. "I don't believe Scrubb knew any
more about it than I do. Or if he did, he had no business to bring me here without warning me what
it was like. It's not my fault he fell over that cliff. If he'd left me alone we should both be
all right." Then she remembered again the scream that Scrubb had given when he fell, and burst
into tears.
Crying is all right in its way while it lasts. But you have to stop sooner or later, and then you
still have to decide what to do. When Jill stopped, she found she was dreadfully thirsty. She had
been lying face downward, and now she sat up. The birds had ceased singing and there was perfect
silence except for one small, persistent sound, which seemed to come from a good distance away.
She listened carefully, and felt almost sure it was the sound of running water.
Jill got up and looked round her very carefully. There was no sign of the lion; but there were so
many trees about that it might easily be quite close without her seeing it. For all she knew,
there might be several lions. But her thirst was very bad now, and she plucked up her courage to
go and look for that running water. She went on tiptoes, stealing cautiously from tree to tree,
and stopping to peer round her at every step.
The wood was so still that it was not difficult to decide where the sound was coming from. It grew
clearer every moment and, sooner than she expected, she came to an open glade and saw the stream,
bright as glass, running across the turf a stone's throw away from her. But although the sight of
the water made her feel ten times thirstier than before, she didn't rush forward and drink. She
stood as still as if she had been turned into stone, with her mouth wide open. And she had a very
good reason; just on this side of the stream lay the lion.
It lay with its head raised and its two fore-paws out in front of it, like the lions in Trafalgar
Square. She knew at once that it had seen her, for its eyes looked straight into hers for a moment
and then turned away - as if it knew her quite well and didn't think much of her.
"If I run away, it'll be after me in a moment," thought Jill. "And if I go on, I shall run
straight into its mouth." Anyway, she couldn't have moved if she had tried, and she couldn't take
her eyes off it. How long this lasted, she could not be sure; it seemed like hours. And the thirst
became so bad that she almost felt she would not mind being eaten by the lion if only she could be
sure of getting a mouthful of water first.
"If you're thirsty, you may drink."
They were the first words she had heard since Scrubb had spoken to her on the edge of the cliff.
For a second she stared here and there, wondering who had spoken. Then the voice said again, "If
you are thirsty, come and drink," and of course she remembered what Scrubb had said about animals
talking in that other world, and realized that it was the lion speaking. Anyway, she had seen its
lips move this time, and the voice was not like a man's. It was deeper, wilder, and stronger; a
sort of heavy, golden voice. It did not make her any less frightened than she had been before, but
it made her frightened in rather a different way.
"Are you not thirsty?" said the Lion.
"I'm dying of thirst," said Jill.
"Then drink," said the Lion.
"May I - could I - would you mind going away while I do?" said Jill.
The Lion answered this only by a look and a very low growl. And as Jill gazed at its motionless
bulk, she realized that she might as well have asked the whole mountain to move aside for her
convenience.
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The delicious rippling noise of the stream was driving her nearly frantic.
"Will you promise not to - do anything to me, if I do come?" said Jill.
"I make no promise," said the Lion.
Jill was so thirsty now that, without noticing it, she had come a step nearer.
"Do you eat girls?" she said.
"I have swallowed up girls and boys, women and men, kings and emperors, cities and realms," said
the Lion. It didn't say this as if it were boasting, nor as if it were sorry, nor as if it were
angry. It just said it.
"I daren't come and drink," said Jill.
"Then you will die of thirst," said the Lion.
"Oh dear!" said Jill, coming another step nearer. "I suppose I must go and look for another stream
then."
"There is no other stream," said the Lion.
It never occurred to Jill to disbelieve the Lion - no one who had seen his stern face could do
that - and her mind suddenly made itself up. It was the worst thing she had ever had to do, but
she went forward to the stream, knelt down, and began scooping up water in her hand. It was the
coldest, most refreshing water she had ever tasted. You didn't need to drink much of it, for it
quenched your thirst at once. Before she tasted it she had been intending to make a dash away from
the Lion the moment she had finished. Now, she realized that this would be on the whole the most
dangerous thing of all. She got up and stood there with her lips still wet from drinking.
"Come here," said the Lion. And she had to. She was almost between its front paws now, looking
straight into its face. But she couldn't stand that for long; she dropped her eyes.
"Human Child," said the Lion. "Where is the Boy?"
"He fell over the cliff," said Jill, and added, "Sir." She didn't know what else to call him, and
it sounded cheek to call him nothing.
"How did he come to do that, Human Child?"
"He was trying to stop me from falling, Sir."
"Why were you so near the edge, Human Child?"
"I was showing off, Sir."
"That is a very good answer, Human Child. Do so no more. And now" (here for the first time the
Lion's face became a little less stern) "the boy is safe. I have blown him to Narnia. But your
task will be the harder because of what you have done."
"Please, what task, Sir?" said Jill.
"The task for which I called you and him here out of your own world."
This puzzled Jill very much. "It's mistaking me for someone else," she thought. She didn't dare to
tell the Lion this, though she felt things would get into a dreadful muddle unless she did.
"Speak your thought, Human Child," said the Lion.
"I was wondering - I mean - could there be some mistake? Because nobody called me and Scrubb, you
know. It was we who asked to come here. Scrubb said we were to call to - to Somebody - it was a
name I wouldn't know - and perhaps the Somebody would let us in. And we did, and then we found the
door open.'
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"You would not have called to me unless I had been calling to you," said the Lion.
"Then you are Somebody, Sir?" said Jill.
"I am. And now hear your task. Far from here in the land of Narnia there lives an aged king who is
sad because he has no prince of his blood to be king after him. He has no heir because his only
son was stolen from him many years ago, and no one in Narnia knows where that prince went or
whether he is still alive. But he is. I lay on you this command, that you seek this lost prince
until either you have found him and brought him to his father's house, or else died in the
attempt, or else gone back into your own world."
"How, please?" said Jill.
"I will tell you, Child," said the Lion. "These are the signs by which I will guide you in your
quest. First; as soon as the Boy Eustace sets foot in Narnia, he will meet an old and dear friend.
He must greet that friend at once; if he does, you will both have good help. Second; you must
journey out of Narnia to the north till you come to the ruined city of the ancient giants. Third;
you shall find a writing on a stone in that ruined city, and you must do what the writing tells
you. Fourth; you will know the lost prince (if you find him) by this, that he will be the first
person you have met in your travels who will ask you to do something in my name, in the name of
Aslan."
As the Lion seemed to have finished, Jill thought she should say something. So she said, "Thank
you very much. I see."
"Child," said Aslan, in a gentler voice than he had yet used, "perhaps you do not see quite as
well as you think. But the first step is to remember. Repeat to me, in order, the four signs."
Jill tried, and didn't get them quite right. So the Lion corrected her, and made her repeat them
again and again till she could say them perfectly. He was very patient over this, so that, when it
was done, Jill plucked up courage to ask:
"Please, how am I to get to Narnia?"
"On my breath," said the Lion. "I will blow you into the west of the world as I blew Eustace."
"Shall I catch him in time to tell him the first sign? But I suppose it won't matter. If he sees
an old friend, he's sure to go and speak to him, isn't he?"
"You will have no time to spare," said the Lion. "That is why I must send you at once. Come. Walk
before me to the edge of the cliff."
Jill remembered very well that if there was no time to spare, that was her own fault. "If I hadn't
made such a fool of myself, Scrubb and I would have been going together. And he'd have heard all
the instructions as well as me," she thought. So she did as she was told. It was very alarming
walking back to the edge of the cliff, especially as the Lion did not walk with her but behind her
- making no noise on his soft paws.
But long before she had got anywhere near the edge, the voice behind her said, "Stand still. In a
moment I will blow. But, first, remember, remember, remember the signs. Say them to yourself when
you wake in the morning and when you lie down at night, and when you wake in the middle of the
night. And whatever strange things may happen to you, let nothing turn your mind from following
the signs. And secondly, I give you a warning. Here on the mountain I have spoken to you clearly:
I will not often do so down in Narnia. Here on the mountain, the air is clear and your mind is
clear; as you drop down into Narnia, the air will thicken. Take great care that it does not
confuse your mind. And the signs which you have learned here will not look at all as you expect
them to look, when you meet them there. That is why it is so important to know them by heart and
pay no attention to appearances. Remember the signs and believe the signs. Nothing else matters.
And now, daughter of Eve, farewell -"
The voice had been growing softer towards the end of this speech and now it faded away altogether.
Jill looked behind her. To her astonishment she saw the cliff already more than a hundred yards
behind her, and the Lion himself a speck of bright gold on the edge of it. She had been setting
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her teeth and clenching her fists for a terrible blast of lion's breath; but the breath had really
been so gentle that she had not even noticed the moment at which she left the earth. And now,
there was nothing but air for thousands upon thousands of feet below her.
She felt frightened only for a second. For one thing, the world beneath her was so very far away
that it seemed to have nothing to do with her. For another, floating on the breath of the Lion was
so extremely comfortable. She found she could lie on her back or on her face and twist any way she
pleased, just as you can in water (if you've learned to float really well). And because she was
moving at the same pace as the breath, there was no wind, and the air seemed beautifully warm. It
was not in the least like being in an aeroplane, because there was no noise and no vibration. If
Jill had ever been in a balloon she might have thought it more like that; only better.
When she looked back now she could take in for the first time the real size of the mountain she
was leaving. She wondered why a mountain so huge as that was not covered with snow and ice - "but
I suppose all that sort of thing is different in this world," thought Jill. Then she looked below
her; but she was so high that she couldn't make out whether she was floating over land or sea, nor
what speed she was going at.
"By Jove! The signs!" said Jill suddenly. "I'd better repeat them." She was in a panic for a
second or two, but she found she could still say them all correctly. "So that's all right," she
said, and lay back on the air as if it was a sofa, with a sigh of contentment.
"Well, I do declare," said Jill to herself some hours later, "I've been asleep. Fancy sleeping on
air. I wonder if anyone's done it before. I don't suppose they have. Oh bother - Scrubb probably
has! On this same journey, a little bit before me. Let's see what it looks like down below."
What it looked like was an enormous, very dark blue plain. There were no hills to be seen; but
there were biggish white things moving slowly across it. "Those must be clouds," she thought. "But
far bigger than the ones we saw from the cliff. I suppose they're bigger because they're nearer. I
must be getting lower. Bother this sun."
The sun which had been high overhead when she began her journey was now getting into her eyes.
This meant that it was getting lower, ahead of her. Scrubb was quite right in saying that Jill (I
don't know about girls in general) didn't think much about points of the compass. Otherwise she
would have known, when the sun began getting in her eyes, that she was travelling pretty nearly
due west.
Staring at the blue plain below her, she presently noticed that there were little dots of
brighter, paler colour in it here and there. "It's the sea!" thought Jill. "I do believe those are
islands." And so they were. She might have felt rather jealous if she had known that some of them
were islands which Scrubb had seen from a ship's deck and even landed on; but she didn't know
this. Then, later on, she began to see that there were little wrinkles on the blue flatness:
little wrinkles which must be quite big ocean waves if you were down among them. And now, all
along the horizon there was a thick dark line which grew thicker and darker so quickly that you
could see it growing. That was the first sign she had had of the great speed at which she was
travelling. And she knew that the thickening line must be land.
Suddenly from her left (for the wind was in the south) a great white cloud came rushing towards
her, this time on the same level as herself. And before she knew where she was, she had shot right
into the middle of its cold, wet fogginess. That took her breath away, but she was in it only for
a moment. She came out blinking in the sunlight and found her clothes wet. (She had on a blazer
and sweater and shorts and stockings and pretty thick shoes; it had been a muddy sort of day in
England.) She came out lower than she had gone in; and as soon as she did so she noticed something
which, I suppose, she ought to have been expecting, but which came as a surprise and a shock. It
was Noises. Up till then she had travelled in total silence. Now, for the first time, she heard
the noise of waves and the crying of seagulls. And now, too, she smelled the smell of the sea.
There was no mistake about her speed now. She saw two waves meet with a smack and a spout of foam
go up between them; but she had hardly seen it before it was a hundred yards behind her. The land
was getting nearer at a great pace. She could see mountains far inland, and other nearer mountains
on her left. She could see bays and headlands, woods and fields, stretches of sandy beach. The
sound of waves breaking on the shore was growing louder every second and drowning the other sea
noises.
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Suddenly the land opened right ahead of her. She was coming to the mouth of a river. She was very
low now, only a few feet above the water. A wave-top came against her toe and a great splash of
foam spurted up, drenching her nearly to the waist. Now she was losing speed. Instead of being
carried up the river she was gliding in to the river bank on her left. There were so many things
to notice that she could hardly take them all in; a smooth, green lawn, a ship so brightly
coloured that it looked like an enormous piece of jewellery, towers and battlements, banners
fluttering in the air, a crowd, gay clothes, armour, gold, swords, a sound of music. But this was
all jumbled. The first thing that she knew clearly was that she had alighted and was standing
under a thicket of trees close by the river side, and there, only a few feet away from her, was
Scrubb.
The first thing she thought was how very grubby and untidy and generally unimpressive he looked.
And the second was "How wet I am!"
CHAPTER THREE
THE SAILING OF THE KING
WHAT made Scrubb look so dingy (and Jill too, if she could only have seen herself) was the
splendour of their surroundings. I had better describe them at once.
Through a cleft in those mountains which Jill had seen far inland as she approached the land, the
sunset light was pouring over a level lawn. On the far side of the lawn, its weather-vanes
glittering in the light, rose a many-towered and many-turreted castle; the most beautiful castle
Jill had ever seen. On the near side was a quay of white marble and, moored to this, the ship: a
tall ship with high forecastle and high poop, gilded and crimson, with a great flag at the mast-
head, and many banners waving from the decks, and a row of shields, bright as silver, along the
bulwarks. The gang-plank was laid to her, and at the foot of it, just ready to go on board, stood
an old, old man. He wore a rich mantle of scarlet which opened in front to show his silver mail
shirt. There was a thin circlet of gold on his head. His beard, white as wool, fell nearly to his
waist. He stood straight enough, leaning one hand on the shoulder of a richly dressed lord who
seemed younger than himself: but you could see he was very old and frail. He looked as if a puff
of wind could blow him away, and his eyes were watery.
Immediately in front of the King - who had turned round to speak to his people before going on
board the ship - there was a little chair on wheels, and, harnessed to it, a little donkey: not
much bigger than a big retriever. In this chair sat a fat little dwarf. He was as richly dressed
as the King, but because of his fatness and because he was sitting hunched up among cushions, the
effect was quite different: it made him look like a shapeless little bundle of fur and silk and
velvet. He was as old as the King, but more hale and hearty, with very keen eyes. His bare head,
which was bald and extremely large, shone like a gigantic billiard ball in the sunset light.
Farther back, in a half-circle, stood what Jill at once knew to be the courtiers. They were well
worth looking at for their clothes and armour alone. As far as that went, they looked more like a
flower-bed than a crowd. But what really made Jill open her eyes and mouth as wide as they would
go, was the people themselves. If "people" was the right word. For only about one in every five
was human. The rest were things you never see in our world. Fauns, satyrs, centaurs: Jill could
give a name to these, for she had seen pictures of them. Dwarfs too. And there were a lot of
animals she knew as well; bears, badgers, moles, leopards, mice, and various birds. But then they
were so very different from the animals which one called by the same names in England. Some of
them were much bigger - the mice, for instance, stood on their hind legs and were over two feet
high. But quite apart from that, they all looked different. You could see by the expression in
their faces that they could talk and think just as well as you could.
"Golly!" thought Jill. "So it's true after all." But next moment she added, "I wonder are they
friendly?" For she had just noticed, on the outskirts of the crowd, one or two giants and some
people whom she couldn't give a name to at all.
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摘要：

file:///F|/rah/C.%20S.%20Lewis/CS%20Lewis%20-%206%20-%20The%20Silver%20Chair.txtTHESILVERCHAIRbyC.S.LewisFirstpublished1953CHAPTERONEBEHINDTHEGYMITwasadullautumndayandJillPolewascryingbehindthegym.Shewascryingbecausetheyhadbeenbullyingher.Thisisnotgoingtoeaschoolstory,soIshallsayaslittleaspossibl...

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