“Not yet， comrade，” said Tirian. He was determined that hey should not be caught unarmed， and began searching he lockers， thankfully remembering that he had always een careful to have these garrison towers inspected once a ear and to make sure that they were stocked with all things eedful. The bow strings were there in their coverings of iled silk， the swords and spears were greased against rust， nd the armour was kept bright in its wrappings. But there as something even better. “Look you！” said Tirian as he rew out a long mail shirt of a curious pattern and flashed it efore the children’s eyes.
“That‘s funny.looking mail， Sire，” said Eustace.
“Aye， lad，” said Tirian. “No Narnian dwarf smithied that.
is mail of Calormen， outlandish gear. I have ever kept a w suits of it in readiness， for I never knew when I or my iends might have reason to walk unseen in The Tisroc’s nd. And look on this stone bottle. In this there is a juice hich， when we have rubbed it on our hands and faces， will ake us brown as Calormenes.”
“Oh hurrah！” said Jill. “Disguise！ I love disguises.”