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chater eight the fight at the t（第1页）

“Ho！Hempress，areyou？We’llseeaboutthat，”saidavoice．Thenanothervoicesaid，“ThreecheersfortheHempressofColney，Atch”andquiteanumberjoinedin．AflushofcolourcameintotheWitch’sfaceandshebowedeversoslightly．Butthecheersdiedawayintoroarsoflaughterandshesawthattheyhadonlybeenmakingfunofher：Achangecameoverherexpressionandshechangedtheknifetoherlefthand．Then，withoutwarning，shedidathingthatwasdreadfultosee．Lightly，easily，asifitwerethemostordinarythingintheworld，shestretchedupherrightarmandwrenchedoffoneofthecross-barsofthelamp-post．Ifshehadlostsomemagicalpowersinourworld，shehadnotlostherstrength；shecouldbreakanironbarasifitwereastickofbarleysugar．Shetossedhernewweaponupintheair，caughtitagain，brandishedit，andurgedthehorseforward．

“Now’smychance，”thoughtDigory．Hedartedbetweenthehorseandtherailingsandbegangoingforward．IfonlythebrutewouldstaystillforamomenthemightcatchtheWitch’sheel．Asherushed，heheardasickeningcrashandathud．TheWitchhadbroughtthebardownonthechiefpoliceman’shelmet：themanfelllikeanine-pin．

“Quick，Digory．Thismustbestopped，”saidavoicebesidehim．ItwasPolly，whohadrusheddownthemomentshewasallowedoutofbed．

“Youareabrick，”saidDigory．“Holdontometight．You’llhavetomanagethering．Yellow，remember．Anddon’tputitontillIshout．”

Therewasasecondcrashandanotherpolicemancrumpledup．Therecameanangryroarfromthecrowd：“Pullherdown．Getafewpaving-stones．CallouttheMilitary．”Butmostofthemweregettingasfarawayastheycould．TheCabby，however，obviouslythebravestaswellasthekindestpersonpresent，waskeepingclosetothehorse，dodgingthiswayandthattoavoidthebar，butstilltryingtocatchStrawberry’shead．

Thecrowdbooedandbellowedagain．AstonewhistledoverDigory’shead．ThencamethevoiceoftheWitch，clearlikeagreatbell，andsoundingasif，foronce，shewerealmosthappy．

“Scum！YoushallpaydearlyforthiswhenIhaveconqueredyourworld．Notonestoneofyourcitywillbeleft．IwillmakeitasCharn，asFelinda，asSorlois，asBramandin.”

Digoryaslastcaughtherankle．Shekickedbackwithherheelandhithiminthemouth．Inhispainhelosthold．Hislipwascutandhismouthfullofblood．FromsomewhereveryclosebycamethevoiceofUncleAndrewinasortoftremblingscream．“Madam-mydearyounglady-forheaven’ssake-composeyourself．”Digorymadeasecondgrabatherheel，andwasagainshakenoff．Moremenwereknockeddownbytheironbar．Hemadeathirdgrab：caughttheheel：heldontikegrimdeath，shoutingtoPolly“Go！”then—Oh，thankgoodness．Theangry，frightenedfaceshadvanished．Theangry，frightenedvoicesweresilenced．AllexceptUncleAndrew’s．ClosebesideDigoryinthedarkness，itwaswailingonOh，oh，isthisdelirium？Isittheend？Ican’tbearit．It’snotfair．InevermeanttobeaMagician．It’sallamisunderstanding．It’sallmygodmother’sfault；Imustprotestagainstthis．Inmystateofhealthtoo．AveryoldDorsetshirefamily．

“Bother！”thoughtDigory．“Wedidn’twanttobringhimalong．Myhat，whatapicnic．Areyouthere，Polly？”

“Yes，I’mhere．Don’tkeeponshoving．”

“I’mnot，”beganDigory，butbeforehecouldsayanythingmore，theirheadscameoutintothewarm，greensunshineofthewood．AndastheysteppedoutofthepoolPollycriedout：

“Ohlook！We’vebroughttheoldhorsewithustoo．AndMr.Ketterley．AndtheCabby．Thisisaprettykettleoffish！”

AssoonastheWitchsawthatshewasoncemoreinthewoodsheturnedpaleandbentdowntillherfacetouchedthemaneofthehorse．Youcouldseeshefeltdeadlysick．UncleAndrewwasshivering．ButStrawberry，thehorse，shookhishead，gaveacheerfulwhinny，andseemedtofeelbetter．HebecamequietforthefirsttimesinceDigoryhadseenhim．Hisears，whichhadbeenlaidflatbackonhisskull，cameintotheirproperposition，andthefirewentoutofhiseyes．

“That’sright，oldboy，”saidtheCabby，slappingStrawberry’sneck．“That’sbetter．Takeiteasy．”

Strawberrydidthemostnaturalthingintheworld．Beingverythirsty（andnowonder）hewalkedslowlyacrosstothenearestpoolandsteppedintoittohaveadrink．DigorywasstillholdingtheWitch’sheelandPollywasholdingDigory’shand．OneoftheCabby’shandswasonStrawberry；andUncleAndrew，stillveryshaky，hadjustgrabbedontheCabby’sotherhand．

“Quick，”saidPolly，withalookatDigory．“Greens！”

Sothehorsenevergothisdrink．Instead，thewholepartyfoundthemselvessinkingintodarkness．Strawberryneighed；UncleAndrewwhimpered．Digorysaid，“Thatwasabitofluck．”

Therewasashortpause．ThenPollysaid，“Oughtn’twetobenearlytherenow？”

“Wedoseemtobesomewhere，”saidDigory．“AtleastI’mstandingonsomethingsolid．”

“Why，soamI，nowthatIcometothinkofit，”saidPolly．“Butwhy’sitsodark？Isay，doyouthinkwegotintothewrongPool？”

“PerhapsthisisCharn，”saidDigory．“Onlywe’vegotbackinthemiddleofthenight．”

“ThisisnotCharn，”cametheWitch’svoice．“Thisisanemptyworld．ThisisNothing．”

AndreallyitwasuncommonlylikeNothing．Therewerenostars．Itwassodarkthattheycouldn’tseeoneanotheratallanditmadenodifferencewhetheryoukeptyoureyesshutoropened．Undertheirfeettherewasacool，flatsomethingwhichmighthavebeenearth，andwascertainlynotgrassorwood．Theairwascoldanddryandtherewasnowind．

“Mydoomhascomeuponme，”saidtheWitchinavoiceofhorriblecalmness．

“Ohdon’tsaythat，”babbledUncleAndrew．“Mydearyounglady，praydon’tsaysuchthings．Itcan’tbeasbadasthat．Ah-Cabman-mygoodman-youdon’thappentohaveaflaskaboutyou？AdropofspiritsisjustwhatIneed．”

“Nowthen，nowthen，”cametheCabby’svoice，agoodfirm，hardyvoice．“Keepcooleveryone，that’swhatIsay．Nobonesbroken，anyone？Good．Wellthere’ssomethingtobethankfulforstraightaway，andmorethananyonecouldexpectafterfallingallthatway．Now，ifwe’vefallendownsomediggings-asitmightbeforanewstationontheUnderground-someonewillcomeandgetusoutpresently，see！Andifwe’redead-whichIdon’tdenyitmightbe-well，yougottorememberthatworsethings’appenatseaandachap’sgottodiesometime．Andthereain’tnothingtobeafraidofifachap’sledadecentlife．Andifyouaskme，Ithinkthebestthingwecoulddotopassthetimewouldbesinga’ymn.

Andhedid．Hestruckupatonceaharvestthanksgivinghymn，allaboutcropsbeing“safelygatheredin”．Itwasnotverysuitabletoaplacewhichfeltasifnothinghadevergrowntheresincethebeginningoftime，butitwastheonehecouldrememberbest．Hehadafinevoiceandthechildrenjoinedin；itwasverycheering．UncleAndrewandtheWitchdidnotjoinin．

TowardstheendofthehymnDigoryfeltsomeonepluckingathiselbowandfromageneralsmellofbrandyandcigarsandgoodclotheshedecidedthatitmustbeUncleAndrew．UncleAndrewwascautiouslypullinghimawayfromtheothers．Whentheyhadgonealittledistance，theoldmanputhismouthsoclosetoDigory’searthatittickled，andwhispered：

“Now，myboy．Sliponyourring．Let’sbeoff．”

ButtheWitchhadverygoodears．“Fool！”camehervoiceandsheleapedoffthehorse．“HaveyouforgottenthatIcanhearmen’sthoughts？Letgotheboy．IfyouattempttreacheryIwilltakesuchvengeanceuponyouasneverwasheardofinallworldsfromthebeginning．”

“And，”addedDigory，“ifyouthinkI’msuchameanpigastogooffandleavePolly-andtheCabby-andthehorse—inaplacelikethis，you’rewellmistaken．”

“Youareaverynaughtyandimpertinentlittleboy，”saidUncleAndrew．

“Hush！”saidtheCabby．Theyalllistened．

Inthedarknesssomethingwashappeningatlast．Avoicehadbeguntosing．ItwasveryfarawayandDigoryfoundithardtodecidefromwhatdirectionitwascoming．Sometimesitseemedtocomefromalldirectionsatonce．Sometimeshealmostthoughtitwascomingoutoftheearthbeneaththem．Itslowernotesweredeepenoughtobethevoiceoftheearthherself．Therewerenowords．Therewashardlyevenatune．Butitwas，beyondcomparison，themostbeautifulnoisehehadeverheard．Itwassobeautifulhecouldhardlybearit．Thehorseseemedtolikeittoo；hegavethesortofwhinneyahorsewouldgiveif，afteryearsofbeingacab-horse，itfounditselfbackintheoldfieldwhereithadplayedasafoal，andsawsomeonewhomitrememberedandlovedcomingacrossthefieldtobringitalumpofsugar．

“Gawd！”saidtheCabby．“Ain’titlovely？”

Thentwowondershappenedatthesamemoment．Onewasthatthevoicewassuddenlyjoinedbyothervoices；morevoicesthanyoucouldpossiblycount．Theywereinharmonywithit，butfarhigherupthescale：cold，tingling，silveryvoices．Thesecondwonderwasthattheblacknessoverhead，allatonce，wasblazingwithstars．Theydidn’tcomeoutgentlyonebyone，astheydoonasummerevening．Onemomenttherehadbeennothingbutdarkness；nextmomentathousand，thousandpointsoflightleapedout-singlestars，constellations，andplanets，brighterandbiggerthananyinourworld．Therewerenoclouds．Thenewstarsandthenewvoicesbeganatexactlythesametime．Ifyouhadseenandheardit，asDigorydid，youwouldhavefeltquitecertainthatitwasthestarsthemselveswhichweresinging，andthatitwastheFirstVoice，thedeepone，whichhadmadethemappearandmadethemsing．

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