CHAPTER SEVEN WHAT HAPPENED AT THE FRONT DOOR（第2/4页）

It seemed in the end that the only thing he could do was to wait and hope that Uncle Andrew and the Witch would come back．If they did，he must rush out and get hold of the Witch and put on his yellow Ring before she had a chance to get into the house．This meant that he must watch the front door like a cat watching a mouse’s hole；he dared not leave his post for a moment．So he went into the dining-room and“glued his face”as they say，to the window．It was a bow-window from which you could see the steps up to the front door and see up and down the street，so that no one could reach the front door without your knowing．“I wonder what Polly’s doing ？”thought Digory．

He wondered about this a good deal as the first slow half-hour ticked on．But you need not wonder，for I am going to tell you． She had got home late for her dinner，with her shoes and stockings very wet．And when they asked her where she had been and what on earth she had been doing，she said she had been out with Digory Kirke．Under further questioning she said she had got her feet wet in a pool of water，and that the pool was in a wood．Asked where the wood was，she said she didn’t know．Asked if it was in one of the parks，she said truthfully enough that she supposed it might be a sort of park．From all of this Polly’s mother got the idea that Polly had gone off，without telling anyone，to some part of London she didn’t know，and gone into a strange park and amused herself jumping into puddles．As a result she was told that she had been very naughty indeed and that she wouldn’t be allowed to play with“that Kirke boy”any more if anything of the sort ever happened again．Then she was given dinner with all the nice parts left out and sent to bed for two solid hours．It was a thing that happened to one quite often in those days．

So while Digory was staring out of the dining-room window， Polly was lying in bed，and both were thinking how terribly slowly the time could go．I think，myself，I would rather have been in Polly’s position．She had only to wait for the end of her two hours： but every few minutes Digory would hear a cab or a baker’s van or a butcher’s boy coming round the corner and think“Here she comes”， and then find it wasn’t．And in between these false alarms，for what seemed hours and hours，the clock ticked on and one big fly-high up and far out of reach—buzzed against the window．It was one of those houses that get very quiet and dull in the afternoon and always seem to smell of mutton．

During his long watching and waiting one small thing happened which I shall have to mention because something important came of it later on．A lady called with some grapes for Digory’s Mother； and as the dining-room door was open，Digory couldn’t help overhearing Aunt Letty and the lady as they talked in the hall．

“What lovely grapes ！”came Aunt Letty’s voice．“I’m sure if anything could do her good these would．But poor，dear little Mabel ！ I’ m afraid it would need fruit from the land of youth to help her now．Nothing in this world will do much．”Then they both lowered their voices and said a lot more that he could not hear．

If he had heard that bit about the land of youth a few days ago he would have thought Aunt Letty was just talking without meaning anything in particular，the way grown-ups do，and it wouldn’t have interested him．He almost thought so now．But suddenly it flashed upon his mind that he now knew（even if Aunt Letty didn’t）that there really were other worlds and that he himself had been in one of them．At that rate there might be a real Land of Youth somewhere．There might be almost anything． There might be fruit in some other world that would really cure his mother ！ And oh，oh-Well，you know how it feels if you begin hoping for something that you want desperately badly；you almost fight against the hope because it is too good to be true；you’ve

been disappointed so often before．That was how Digory felt．But it was no good trying to throttle this hope．It might—really，really， it just might be true．So many odd things had happened already． And he had the magic rings．There must be worlds you could get to through every pool in the wood．He could hunt through them all． And then—Mother well again．Everything right again．He forgot all about watching for the Witch．His hand was already going into the pocket where he kept the yellow ring，when all at once he herd a sound of galloping．

“Hullo ！ What’s that ？”thought Digory．“Fire-engine ？ I wonder what house is on fire．Great Scott，it’s coming here． Why，it’s Her．”

I needn’t tell you who he meant by Her．

First came the hansom．There was no one in the driver’s seat．On the roof-not sitting，but standing on the roof—swaying with superb balance as it came at full speed round the corner with one wheel in the air-was Jadis the Queen of Queens and the Terror of Charn．Her teeth were bared，her eyes shone like fire， and her long hair streamed out behind her like a comet’s tail． She was flogging the horse without mercy．Its nostrils were wide and red and its sides were spotted with foam．It galloped madly up to the front door，missing the lamp-post by an inch，and then reared up on its hind legs．The hansom crashed into the lamp-post and shattered into several pieces．The Witch，with a magnificent jump，had sprung clear just in time and landed on the horse’s back． She settled herself astride and leaned forward，whispering things in its ear．They must have been things meant not to quiet it but to madden it．It was on its hind legs again in a moment，and its neigh was like a scream；it was all hoofs and teeth and eyes and tossing mane．Only a splendid rider could have stayed on its back．