“I always thought it meant roots of trees,” said Lucy.
“Come on,” said Peter, “Ed is right.
And we must try to do something.
And it’ll be better than going out into the glare and the sun again.”
So they all got up and began to follow the stream.
It was very hard work.
They had to stoop under branches and climb over branches, and they blundered through great masses of stuff like rhododendrons and tore their clothes and got their feet wet in the stream; and still there was no noise at all except the noise of the stream and the noises they were making themselves.
They were beginning to get very tired of it when they noticed a delicious smell, and then a flash of bright colour high above them at the top of the right bank.
“I say!” exclaimed Lucy. “I do believe that’s an apple tree.”
It was.
They panted up the steep bank, forced their way through some brambles, and found themselves standing round an old tree that was heavy with large yellowishgolden apples as firm and juicy as you could wish to see.
“And this is not the only tree,” said Edmund with his mouth full of apple. “Look there—and there.”
“Why, there are dozens of them,” said Susan, throwing away the core of her first apple and picking her second. “This must have been an orchard—long, long ago, before the place went wild and the wood grew up.”
“Then this was once an inhabited island,” said Peter.
“And what’s that?” said Lucy, pointing ahead.
“By Jove, it’s a wall,” said Peter. “An old stone wall.”
Pressing their way between the laden branches they reached the wall.
It was very old, and broken down in places, with moss and wallflowers growing on it, but it was higher than all but the tallest trees.
And when they came quite close to it they found a great arch which must once have had a gate in it but was now almost filled up with the largest of all the apple trees.
They had to break some of the branches to get past, and when they had done so they all blinked because the daylight became suddenly much brighter.
They found themselves in a wide open place with walls all round it.
In here there were no trees, only level grass and daisies, and ivy, and grey walls.
It was a bright, secret, quiet place, and rather sad; and all four stepped out into the middle of it, glad to be able to straighten their backs and move their limbs freely.
CHAPTER TWO. THE ANCIENT TREASURE HOUSE
“THIS wasn’t a garden,” said Susan presently. “It was a castle and this must have been the courtyard.”
“I see what you mean,” said Peter. “Yes. That is the remains of a tower.
And there is what used to be a flight of steps going up to the top of the walls.
And look at those other steps—the broad, shallow ones—going up to that doorway. It must have been the door into the great hall.”
“Ages ago, by the look of it,” said Edmund.
“Yes, ages ago,” said Peter. “I wish we could find out who the people were that lived in this castle; and how long ago.”
“It gives me a queer feeling,” said Lucy.
“Does it, Lu?” said Peter, turning and looking hard at her.
“Because it does the same to me.
It is the queerest thing that has happened this queer day.
I wonder where we are and what it all means?”
While they were talking they had crossed the courtyard and gone through the other doorway into what had once been the hall.
This was now very like the courtyard, for the roof had long since disappeared and it was merely another space of grass and daisies, except that it was shorter and narrower and the walls were higher.
Across the far end there was a kind of terrace about three feet higher than the rest.
“I wonder, was it really the hall?” said Susan. “What is that terrace kind of thing?”
“Why, you silly,” said Peter (who had become strangely excited), “don’t you see?
That was the dais where the High Table was, where the King and the great lords sat.
Anyone would think you had forgotten that we ourselves were once Kings and Queens and sat on a dais just like that, in our great hall.”
“In our castle of Cair Paravel,” continued Susan in a dreamy and rather sing-song voice, “at the mouth of the great river of Narnia.
How could I forget?”
“How it all comes back!” said Lucy. “We could pretend we were in Cair Paravel now.
This hall must have been very like the great hall we feasted in.”
“But unfortunately without the feast,” said Edmund. “It’s getting late, you know.
Look how long the shadows are.
And have you noticed that it isn’t so hot?”
“We shall need a camp-fire if we’ve got to spend the night here,” said Peter.