“And now,” said Lucy, “do please tell us what’s happened to Mr Tumnus.” “Ah, that’s bad,” said Mr Beaver, shaking his head. “That’s a very, very bad business. There’s no doubt he was taken off by the police. T got that from a bird who saw it done.” “But where’s he been taken to?” asked Lucy. “Well, they were heading northwards when they were last seen, and we all know what that means.” “No, we don’t,” said Susan. Mr Beaver shook his head in a very gloomy fashion. “I’m afraid it means they were taking him to her House,” he said. “But what’ll they do to him, Mr Beaver?” gasped Lucy. “Well,” said Mr Beaver, “you can’t exactly say for sure. But there’s not many taken in there that ever comes out again. Statues. All full of statues they say it is – in the courtyard and up the stairs and in the hall. People she’s turned” – he paused and shuddered – “turned into stone,” “But, Mr Beaver,” said Lucy, “can’t we – I mean, we must do something to save him. It’s too dreadful and it’s all on my account.” “I don’t doubt you’d save him if you could, dearie,” said Mrs Beaver, “but you’ve no chance of getting into that House against her will and ever coming out alive.” “Couldn’t we have some stratagem?” said Peter. “I mean, couldn’t we dress up as something, or pretend to be – oh, pedlars or anything – or watch till she was gone out – or – oh, hang it all, there must be some way. This Faun saved my sister at his own risk, Mr Beaver. We can’t just leave him to be – to be – to have that done to him.” “It’s no good, Son of Adam,” said Mr Beaver, “no good your trying, of all people. But now that Aslan is on the move –“ “Oh yes! Tell us about Aslan!” said several voices at once; for once again that strange feeling – like the first signs of spring, like good news – had come over them. “Who is Aslan?” asked Susan. “Aslan?” said Mr Beaver. “Why don’t you know? He’s the King. He’s the Lord of the wood, but
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