“Crazy， you know，” said Eustace to Lucy in a low voice， looking at the eastern horizon. “Sailing on and on into that with no idea what we may get to.” But he only said it out of habit， not really nastily as he would have done at one time.
It was too cold to stay long on the ridge for the wind still blew freshly from the north.
“Don’t let‘s go back the same way，” said Lucy as they turned. “let’s go along a bit and come down by the other stream， the one Drinian wanted to go to.”
Everyone agreed to this and after about fifteen minutes they were at the source of the second river. It was a more interesting place than they had expected； a deep little mountain lake， surrounded by cliffs except for a narrow channel on the seaward side out of which the water flowed. Here at last they were out of the wind， and all sat down in the heather above the cliff for a rest.
All sat down， but one （it was Edmund） jumped up againvery quickly.
“They go in for sharp stones on this island，” he said， groping about in the heather. “Where is the wretched thing？ . . . Ah， now I‘ve got it . . . Hullo！ It wasn’t a stone at all， it‘s a sword.hilt. No， by jove， it’s a whole sword； what the rust has left of it. It must have lain here for ages.”