CHAPTER SIXTEEN THE HEALING OF HARMS（第2/4页）

“Good-bye，dear Puddleglum,”said Jill，going over to the Marsh-wiggle’s bed. “I’m sorry we called you a wet blanket.”

“So’m I,”said Eustace. “You’ve been the best friend in the world.”

“And I do hope we’ll meet again,”added Jill.

“Not much chance of that，I should say,”replied Puddleglum. “1 don’t reckon I’m very likely to see my old wigwam again， either. And that Prince—he’s a nice chap—but do you think he’s very strong ？ Constitution ruined with living underground，I shouldn’t wonder. Looks the sort that might go off any day.”

“Puddleglum ！”said Jill. “You’re a regular old humbug. You sound as doleful as a funeral and I believe you’re perfectly happy. And you talk as if you were afraid of everything，when you’re really as brave as—as a lion.”

“Now，speaking of funerals,”began Puddleglum，but Jill， who heard the Centaurs tapping with their hoofs behind her， surprised him very much by flinging her arms round his thin neck and kissing his muddy-looking face，while Eustace wrung his hand. Then they both rushed away to the Centaurs，and the Marsh-wiggle，sinking back on his bed，remarked to himself， “Well，I wouldn’t have dreamt of her doing that. Even though I am a good-looking chap.”

To ride on a Centaur is，no doubt，a great honour（and except Jill and Eustace，there is probably no one alive in the world today who has had it）but it is very uncomfortable. For no one who valued his life would suggest putting a saddle on a Centaur， and riding bare-back is no fun；especially if，like Eustace，you have never learned to ride at all. The Centaurs were very polite in a grave，gracious，grown-up kind of way，and as they cantered through the Narnian woods they spoke，without turning their heads，telling the children about the properties of herbs and roots， the influences of the planets，the nine names of Aslan with their meanings，and things of that sort. But however sore and jolted the two humans were，they would now give anything to have that journey over again：to see those glades and slopes sparkling with last night’s snow，to be met by rabbits and squirrels and birds that wished you good morning，to breathe again the air of Narnia and hear the voices of the Narnian trees.

They came down to the river，flowing bright and blue in winter sunshine，far below the last bridge（which is at the snug， red-roofed little town of Beruna）and were ferried across in a flat barge by the ferryman；or rather，by the ferry-wiggle，for it is Marsh-wiggles who do most of the watery and fishy kinds of work in Narnia. And when they had crossed they rode along the south bank of the river and presently came to Cair Paravel itself. And at the very moment of their arrival they saw that same bright ship which they had seen when they first set foot in Narnia，gliding up the river like a huge bird. All the court were once more assembled on the green between the castle and the quay to welcome King Caspian home again. Rilian，who had changed his black clothes and was now dressed in a scarlet cloak over silver mail，stood close to the water’s edge，bare-headed，to receive his father； and the Dwarf Trumpkin sat beside him in his little donkey-chair.

The children saw there would be no chance of reaching the Prince through all that crowd，and，anyway，they now felt rather shy. So they asked the Centaurs if they might go on sitting on their backs a little longer and thus see everything over the heads of the courtiers. And the Centaurs said they might.

A flourish of silver trumpets came over the water from the ship’s deck：the sailors threw a rope；rats（Talking Rats，of course）and Marsh-wiggles made it fast ashore；and the ship was warped in. Musicians，hidden somewhere in the crowd，began to play solemn，triumphal music. And soon the King’s galleon was alongside and the Rats ran the gangway on board her.

Jill expected to see the old King come down it. But there appeared to be some hitch. A Lord with a pale face came ashore and knelt to the Prince and to Trumpkin. The three were talking with their heads close together for a few minutes，but no one could hear what they said. The music played on，but you could feel that everyone was becoming uneasy. Then four Knights，carrying something and going very slowly，appeared on deck. When they started to come down the gangway you could see what they were carrying：it was the old King on a bed，very pale and still. They set him down. The Prince knelt beside him and embraced him. They could see King Caspian raising his hand to bless his son. And everyone cheered，but it was a half-hearted cheer，for they all felt that something was going wrong. Then suddenly the King’s head fell back upon his pillows，the musicians stopped and there was a dead silence. The Prince，kneeling by the King’s bed，laid down his head upon it and wept.

There were whisperings and goings to and fro. Then Jill noticed that all who wore hats，bonnets，helmets，or hoods were taking them off—Eustace included. Then she heard a rustling and flapping noise up above the castle；when she looked she saw that the great banner with the golden Lion on it was being brought down to half-mast. And after that，slowly，mercilessly，with wailing strings and disconsolate blowing of horns，the music began again： this time，a tune to break your heart.