“That’s right，” said the other Dwarfs. “We‘re on our own now. No more Aslan， no more Kings， no more silly stories about other worlds. The Dwarfs are for the Dwarfs.” And they began to fall into their places and to get ready for marching back to wherever they had come from.
“Little beasts！” said Eustace. “Aren’t you even going to say thank you
for being saved from the salt-mines？”
“Oh， we know all about that，” said Griffle over his shoulder. “You wanted to make use of us， that‘s why you rescued us. You’re playing some game of your own. Come on you chaps.”
And the Dwarfs struck up the queer little marching song which goes with the drumbeat， and off they tramped into the darkness.
Tirian and his friends stared after them. Then he said the single word “Come，” and they continued their journey.
They were a silent party. Puzzle felt himself to be still in disgrace， and also he didn‘t really quite understand what had happened. Jill， besides being disgusted with the Dwarfs， was very impressed withEustace’s victory over the Calormene and felt almost shy. As for Eustace， his heart was still beating rather quickly.
Tirian and Jewel walked sadly together in the rear. The King had his arm on the Unicorn‘s shoulder and sometimes the Unicorn nuzzled the King’s cheek with his soft nose. They did not try to comfort one another with words. It wasn‘t very easy to think of anything to say that would be comforting. Tirian had never dreamed that one of the results of an Ape’s setting up a false Aslan would be to stop people from believing in the real one. He had felt quite sure that the Dwarfs would rally to his side the moment he showed them how they had been deceived. And then next night he would have led them to Stable Hill and shown Puzzle to all the creatures and everyone would have turned against the Ape and， perhaps after a scuffle with the Calormenes， the whole thing would have been over. But now， it seemed， he could count on nothing. How many other Narnians might turn the same way as the Dwarfs？
“Somebody‘s coming after us， I think，” said Puzzle suddenly.
They stopped and listened. Sure enough， there was a thump-thump of small feet behind them.
“Who goes there！” shouted the King.
“Only me， Sire，” came a voice. “Me， Poggin the Dwarf. I’ve only just managed to get away from the others. I‘m on your side， Sire； and on Aslan’s. If you can put a Dwarfish sword in my fist， I‘d gladly strike a blow on the right side before all’s done.”
Everyone crowded round him and welcomed him and praised him and slapped him on the back. Of course one single Dwarf could not make a very great difference， but it was somehow very cheering to have even one. The whole party brightened up. But Jill and Eustace didn‘t stay bright for very long， for they were now yawning their heads off and too tired to think about anything but bed.
It was at the coldest hour of the night， just before dawn， that they got back to the Tower. If there had been a meal ready for them they would have been glad enough to eat， but the bother and delay of getting one was not to be thought of. They drank from a stream， splashed their faces with water， and tumbled into their bunks， except
for Puzzle and Jewel who said they’d be more comfortable outside. This perhaps was just as well， for a Unicorn and a fat， full-grown donkey indoors always make a room feel rather crowded.
Narnian Dwarfs， though less than four feet high， are for their size about the toughest and strongest creatures there are， so that Poggin， in spite of a heavy day and a late night， woke fully refreshed before any of the others. He at once took Jill‘s bow， went out and shot a couple of wood pigeons. Then he sat plucking them on the doorstep and chatting to Jewel and Puzzle.
Puzzle looked and felt a good deal better that morning. Jewel， being a Unicorn and therefore one of the noblest and delicatest of beasts， had been very kind to him， talking to him about things of the sort they could both understand like grass and sugar and the care of one’s hoofs.
When Jill and Eustace came out of the Tower yawning and rubbing their eyes at almost half past ten， the Dwarf showed them where they could gather plenty of a Narnian weed called Wild Fresney， which looks rather like our wood-sorrel but tastes a good deal nicer when cooked. （It needs a little butter and pepper to make it perfect， but they hadn‘t got these.） So that what with one thing and another， they had the makings of a capital stew for their breakfast or dinner， whichever you choose to call it. Tirian went a little further off into the wood with an axe and brought back some branches for fuel.
While the meal was cooking-which seemed a very long time， especially as it smelled nicer and nicer the nearer it came to being done-the King found a complete Dwarfish outfit for Poggin： mail shirt， helmet， shield， sword， belt， and dagger. Then he inspected Eustace’s sword and found that Eustace had put it back in the sheath all messy from killing the Calormene. He was scolded for that and made to clean and polish it.
All this while Jill went to and fro， sometimes stirring the pot and sometimes looking out enviously at the Donkey and the Unicorn who were contentedly grazing. How many times that morning she wished she could eat grass！
But when the meal came everyone felt it had been worth waiting for， and there were second helpings all round.
When everyone had eaten as much as he could， the three humans and the Dwarf came and sat on the doorstep， the four-footed ones lay down facing them， the Dwarf （with permission both from Jill and from Tirian） lit his pipe， and the King said： “Now， friend Poggin， you have more news of the enemy， belike， than we. Tell us all you know. And first， what tale do they tell of my escape？”
“As cunning a tale， Sire， as ever was devised，” said Poggin. “It was the Cat， Ginger， who told it， and most likely made it up too. This Ginger， Sire-oh， he‘s a slyboots if ever a cat was-said he was walking past the tree to which those villains bound your Majesty. And he said （saving your reverence） that you were howling and swearing and cursing Aslan： ’language I wouldn‘t like to repeat’ were the words he used， looking ever so prim and proper-you know the way a Cat can when it pleases. And then， says Ginger， Aslan himself suddenly appeared in a flash of lightning and swallowed your Majesty up at one mouthful.