saidGolg.“Fortheyaretoowhite-hottolookat.Buttheyaremostlikesmalldragons.Theyspeaktousoutofthefire.Theyarewonderfullycleverwiththeirtongues:verywittyandeloquent.”
JillglancedhastilyatEustace.Shehadfeltsurethathewouldliketheideaofslidingdownthatchasmevenlessthanshedid.Herheartsankasshesawthathisfacewasquitechanged.HelookedmuchmorelikethePrincethanliketheoldScrubbatExperimentHouse.Forallhisadventures,andthedayswhenhehadsailedwithKingCaspian,werecomingbacktohi
“YourHighness,”
hesaid.“IfmyoldfriendReepicheeptheMousewerehere,hewouldsaywecouldnotnowrefusetheadventuresofBismwithoutagreatimpeachmenttoourhonour.”
“Downthere,”
saidGolg,“Icouldshowyourealgold,realsilver,realdiamonds.”
“Bosh!”
saidJillrudely.“Asifwedidn’tknowthatwe’rebelowthedeepestminesevenhere.”
“Yes,”
saidGolg.“IhaveheardofthoselittlescratchesinthecrustthatyouTopdwellerscallmines.Butthat’swhereyougetdeadgold,deadsilver,deadgems.DowninBismwehavethemaliveandgrowing.ThereI’llpickyoubunchesofrubiesthatyoucaneatandsqueezeyouacupfullofdiamondjuice.Youwon’tcaremuchaboutfingeringthecold,deadtreasuresofyourshallowminesafteryouhavetastedtheliveonesofBis”
“Myfatherwenttotheworld’send,”
saidRilianthoughtfully.“Itwouldbeamarvellousthingifhissonwenttothebottomoftheworld.”
“IfyourHighnesswantstoseeyourfatherwhilehe’sstillalive,whichIthinkhe’dprefer,”
saidPuddleglum,“it’sabouttimeweweregettingontothatroadtothediggings.”
“AndIwon’tgodownthathole,whateveranyonesays,”
addedJill.
“Why,ifyourHonoursarereallysettogobacktoOverworld,”
saidGolg,“thereisonebitoftheroadthat’sratherlowerthanthis.Andperhaps,ifthatflood’sstillrising—”
“Oh,do,do,docomeon!”
beggedJill.
“Ifearitmustbeso,”
saidthePrincewithadeepsigh.“ButIhavelefthalfofmyheartinthelandofBis”
“Please!”
beggedJill.
“Whereistheroad?”
askedPuddleglu
“Therearelampsalltheway,”
saidGolg.“YourHonourcanseethebeginningoftheroadonthefarsideofthechas”
“Howlongwillthelampsburnfor?”
askedPuddleglu
Atthatmomentahissing,scorchingvoicelikethevoiceofFireitself(theywonderedafterwardsifitcouldhavebeenasalamander’s)camewhistlingupoutoftheverydepthsofBis
“Quick!
Quick!
Quick!
Tothecliffs,tothecliffs,tothecliffs!”
itsaid.“Theriftcloses.Itcloses.Itcloses.Quick!
Quick!”
Andatthesametime,withear-shatteringcracksandcreaks,therocksmoved.Already,whiletheylooked,thechasmwasnarrower.Fromeverysidebelatedgnomeswererushingintoit.Theywouldnotwaittoclimbdowntherocks.Theyflungthemselvesheadlongand,eitherbecausesostrongablastofhotairwasbeatingupfromthebottom,orforsomeotherreason,theycouldbeseenfloatingdownwardslikeleaves.Thickerandthickertheyfloated,tilltheirblacknessalmostblottedoutthefieryriverandthegrovesoflivegems.“Good-byetoyourHonours.I’moff,”
shoutedGolg,anddived.OnlyafewwerelefttofollowhiThechasmwasnownobroaderthanastreaNowitwasnarrowastheslitinapillarbox.Nowitwasonlyanintenselybrightthread.Then,withashocklikeathousandgoodstrainscrashingintoathousandpairsofbuffers,thelipsofrockclosed.Thehot,maddeningsmellvanished.ThetravellerswerealoneinanUnderworldwhichnowlookedfarblackerthanbefore.Pale,dim,anddreary,thelampsmarkedthedirectionoftheroad.
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