波波小说

chater even what haened at the frnt dr（第1页）

“Now；slave，howlongamItowaitformychariot？”thunderedtheWitch．UncleAndrewcoweredawayfromher．Nowthatshewasreallypresent，allthesillythoughtshehadhadwhilelookingathimselfintheglasswereoozingoutofhim．ButAuntLettyatoncegotupfromherkneesandcameovertothecentreoftheroom．

“Andwhoisthisyoungperson，Andrew，mayIask？”saidAuntLettyinicytones．

“Distinguishedforeigner-v-veryimportantp-person，”hestammered．

“Rubbish！”saidAuntLetty，andthen，turningtotheWitch，“Getoutofmyhousethismoment，youshamelesshussy，orI’llsendforthepolice．”ShethoughttheWitchmustbesomeoneoutofacircusandshedidnotapproveofbarearms．

“Whatwomanisthis？”saidJadis．“Downonyourknees，minion，beforeIblastyou．”

“Nostronglanguageinthishouseifyouplease，youngwoman，”saidAuntLetty．

Instantly，asitseemedtoUncleAndrew，theQueentowereduptoanevengreaterheight．Fireflashedfromhereyes：sheflungoutherarmwiththesamegestureandthesamehorrible-soundingwordsthathadlatelyturnedthepalace—gatesofCharntodust．ButnothinghappenedexceptthatAuntLetty，thinkingthatthosehorriblewordsweremeanttobeordinaryEnglish，said：

“Ithoughtasmuch．Thewomanisdrunk．Drunk！Shecan’tevenspeakclearly．”

ItmusthavebeenaterriblemomentfortheWitchwhenshesuddenlyrealizedthatherpowerofturningpeopleintodust，whichhadbeenquiterealinherownworld，wasnotgoingtoworkinours．Butshedidnotlosehernerveevenforasecond．Withoutwastingathoughtonherdisappointment，shelungedforward，caughtAuntLettyroundtheneckandtheknees，raisedherhighaboveherheadasifshehadbeennoheavierthanadoll，andthrewheracrosstheroom．WhileAuntLettywasstillhurtlingthroughtheair，thehousemaid（whowashavingabeautifullyexcitingmorning）putherheadinatthedoorandsaid，“Ifyouplease，sir，the’ansom’scome．”

“Leadon，Slave，”saidtheWitchtoUncleAndrew．Hebeganmutteringsomethingabout“regrettableviolence—mustreallyprotest”，butatasingleglancefromJadishebecamespeechless．Shedrovehimoutoftheroomandoutofthehouse；andDigorycamerunningdownthestairsjustintimetoseethefrontdoorclosebehindthem．

“Jiminy！”hesaid．“She’slooseinLondon．AndwithUncleAndrew．Iwonderwhatonearthisgoingtohappennow．”

“Oh，MasterDigory，”saidthehousemaid（whowasreallyhavingawonderfulday），“IthinkMissKetterley’shurtherselfsomehow．”Sotheybothrushedintothedrawing-roomtofindoutwhathadhappened．

IfAuntLettyhadfallenonbareboardsorevenonthecarpet，Isupposeallherboneswouldhavebeenbroken：butbygreatgoodluckshehadfallenonthemattress．AuntLettywasaverytougholdlady：auntsoftenwereinthosedays．Aftershehadhadsomesalvolatileandsatstillforafewminutes，shesaidtherewasnothingthematterwithherexceptafewbruises．Verysoonshewastakingchargeofthesituation．

“Sarah，”shesaidtothehousemaid（whohadneverhadsuchadaybefore），“goaroundtothepolicestationatonceandtellthemthereisadangerouslunaticatlarge．IwilltakeMrs。Kirke’slunchupmyself．”Mrs。Kirke。was，ofcourse，Digory’smother．

WhenMother’slunchhadbeenseento，DigoryandAuntLettyhadtheirown．Afterthathedidsomehardthinking．

TheproblemwashowtogettheWitchbacktoherownworld，oratanyrateoutofours，assoonaspossible．Whateverhappened，shemustnotbeallowedtogorampagingaboutthehouse．MothermustnotseeherAnd，ifpossible，shemustnotbeallowedtogorampagingaboutLondoneither．Digoryhadnotbeeninthedrawing—roomwhenshetriedto“blast”AuntLetty，buthehadseenher“blast”thegatesatCharn：soheknewherterriblepowersanddidnotknowthatshehadlostanyofthembycomingintoourworld．Andheknewshemeanttoconquerourworld．Atthepresentmoment，asfarashecouldsee，shemightbeblastingBuckinghamPalaceortheHousesofParliament：anditwasalmostcertainthatquiteanumberofpolicemenhadbynowbeenreducedtolittleheapsofdust．Andtheredidn’tseemtobeanythinghecoulddoaboutthat．“Buttheringsseemtoworklikemagnets，”thoughtDigory．“IfIcanonlytouchherandthensliponmyyellow，weshallbothgointotheWoodbetweentheWorlds．Iwonderwillshegoallfaintagainthere？Wasthatsomethingtheplacedoestoher，orwasitonlytheshockofbeingpulledoutofherownworld？ButIsupposeI’llhavetoriskthat．AndhowamItofindthebeast？Idon’tsupposeAuntLettywouldletmegoout，notunlessIsaidwhereIwasgoing．AndIhaven’tgotmorethantwopence．I’dneedanyamountofmoneyforbusesandtramsifIwentlookingalloverLondon．Anyway，Ihaven’tthefaintestideawheretolook．IwonderifUncleAndrewisstillwithher．”

ItseemedintheendthattheonlythinghecoulddowastowaitandhopethatUncleAndrewandtheWitchwouldcomeback．Iftheydid，hemustrushoutandgetholdoftheWitchandputonhisyellowRingbeforeshehadachancetogetintothehouse．Thismeantthathemustwatchthefrontdoorlikeacatwatchingamouse’shole；hedarednotleavehispostforamoment．Sohewentintothedining-roomand“gluedhisface”astheysay，tothewindow．Itwasabow-windowfromwhichyoucouldseethestepsuptothefrontdoorandseeupanddownthestreet，sothatnoonecouldreachthefrontdoorwithoutyourknowing．“IwonderwhatPolly’sdoing？”thoughtDigory．

Hewonderedaboutthisagooddealasthefirstslowhalf-hourtickedon．Butyouneednotwonder，forIamgoingtotellyou．Shehadgothomelateforherdinner，withhershoesandstockingsverywet．Andwhentheyaskedherwhereshehadbeenandwhatonearthshehadbeendoing，shesaidshehadbeenoutwithDigoryKirke．Underfurtherquestioningshesaidshehadgotherfeetwetinapoolofwater，andthatthepoolwasinawood．Askedwherethewoodwas，shesaidshedidn’tknow．Askedifitwasinoneoftheparks，shesaidtruthfullyenoughthatshesupposeditmightbeasortofpark．FromallofthisPolly’smothergottheideathatPollyhadgoneoff，withouttellinganyone，tosomepartofLondonshedidn’tknow，andgoneintoastrangeparkandamusedherselfjumpingintopuddles．Asaresultshewastoldthatshehadbeenverynaughtyindeedandthatshewouldn’tbeallowedtoplaywith“thatKirkeboy”anymoreifanythingofthesorteverhappenedagain．Thenshewasgivendinnerwithallthenicepartsleftoutandsenttobedfortwosolidhours．Itwasathingthathappenedtoonequiteofteninthosedays．

SowhileDigorywasstaringoutofthedining-roomwindow，Pollywaslyinginbed，andbothwerethinkinghowterriblyslowlythetimecouldgo．Ithink，myself，IwouldratherhavebeeninPolly’sposition．Shehadonlytowaitfortheendofhertwohours：buteveryfewminutesDigorywouldhearacaborabaker’svanorabutcher’sboycomingroundthecornerandthink“Hereshecomes”，andthenfinditwasn’t．Andinbetweenthesefalsealarms，forwhatseemedhoursandhours，theclocktickedonandonebigfly-highupandfaroutofreach—buzzedagainstthewindow．Itwasoneofthosehousesthatgetveryquietanddullintheafternoonandalwaysseemtosmellofmutton．

DuringhislongwatchingandwaitingonesmallthinghappenedwhichIshallhavetomentionbecausesomethingimportantcameofitlateron．AladycalledwithsomegrapesforDigory’sMother；andasthedining-roomdoorwasopen，Digorycouldn’thelpoverhearingAuntLettyandtheladyastheytalkedinthehall．

“Whatlovelygrapes！”cameAuntLetty’svoice．“I’msureifanythingcoulddohergoodthesewould．Butpoor，dearlittleMabel！I’mafraiditwouldneedfruitfromthelandofyouthtohelphernow．Nothinginthisworldwilldomuch．”Thentheybothloweredtheirvoicesandsaidalotmorethathecouldnothear．

IfhehadheardthatbitaboutthelandofyouthafewdaysagohewouldhavethoughtAuntLettywasjusttalkingwithoutmeaninganythinginparticular，thewaygrown-upsdo，anditwouldn’thaveinterestedhim．Healmostthoughtsonow．Butsuddenlyitflasheduponhismindthathenowknew（evenifAuntLettydidn’t）thattherereallywereotherworldsandthathehimselfhadbeeninoneofthem．AtthatratetheremightbearealLandofYouthsomewhere．Theremightbealmostanything．Theremightbefruitinsomeotherworldthatwouldreallycurehismother！Andoh，oh-Well，youknowhowitfeelsifyoubeginhopingforsomethingthatyouwantdesperatelybadly；youalmostfightagainstthehopebecauseitistoogoodtobetrue；you’ve

beendisappointedsooftenbefore．ThatwashowDigoryfelt．Butitwasnogoodtryingtothrottlethishope．Itmight—really，really，itjustmightbetrue．Somanyoddthingshadhappenedalready．Andhehadthemagicrings．Theremustbeworldsyoucouldgettothrougheverypoolinthewood．Hecouldhuntthroughthemall．Andthen—Motherwellagain．Everythingrightagain．HeforgotallaboutwatchingfortheWitch．Hishandwasalreadygoingintothepocketwherehekepttheyellowring，whenallatonceheherdasoundofgalloping．

“Hullo！What’sthat？”thoughtDigory．“Fire-engine？Iwonderwhathouseisonfire．GreatScott，it’scominghere．Why，it’sHer．”

Ineedn’ttellyouwhohemeantbyHer．

Firstcamethehansom．Therewasnooneinthedriver’sseat．Ontheroof-notsitting，butstandingontheroof—swayingwithsuperbbalanceasitcameatfullspeedroundthecornerwithonewheelintheair-wasJadistheQueenofQueensandtheTerrorofCharn．Herteethwerebared，hereyesshonelikefire，andherlonghairstreamedoutbehindherlikeacomet’stail．Shewasfloggingthehorsewithoutmercy．Itsnostrilswerewideandredanditssideswerespottedwithfoam．Itgallopedmadlyuptothefrontdoor，missingthelamp-postbyaninch，andthenreareduponitshindlegs．Thehansomcrashedintothelamp-postandshatteredintoseveralpieces．TheWitch，withamagnificentjump，hadsprungclearjustintimeandlandedonthehorse’sback．Shesettledherselfastrideandleanedforward，whisperingthingsinitsear．Theymusthavebeenthingsmeantnottoquietitbuttomaddenit．Itwasonitshindlegsagaininamoment，anditsneighwaslikeascream；itwasallhoofsandteethandeyesandtossingmane．Onlyasplendidridercouldhavestayedonitsback．

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