“Whatsortofroots?” askedSusan.
“Ialwaysthoughtitmeantrootsoftrees,” saidLucy.
“Comeon,” saidPeter, “'llbebetterthangoingoutintotheglareandthesunagain.”
, andtheyblunderedthroughgreatmassesofstufflikerhododendronsandtoretheirclothesandgottheirfeetwetinthestream; , andthenaflashofbrightcolorhighabovethematthetopoftherightbank.
“Isay!” exclaimedLucy.“Idobelievethat'sanappletree.”
, forcedtheirwaythroughsomebrambles, andfoundthemselvesstandingroundanoldtreethatwasheavywithlargeyellowish-goldenapplesasfirmandjuicyasyoucouldwishtosee.
“Andthisisnottheonlytree,” saidEdmundwithhismouthfullofapple.“Lookthere—andthere.”
“Why, therearedozensofthem,” saidSusan, throwingawaythecoreofherfirstappleandpickinghersecond.“Thismusthavebeenanorchard—long, longago, beforetheplacewentwildandthewoodgrewup.”
“Thenthiswasonceaninhabitedisland,” saidPeter.
“Andwhat'sthat?” saidLucy, pointingahead.
“ByJove, it'sawall,” saidPeter.“Anoldstonewall.”
, andbrokendowninplaces, withmossandwallflowersgrowingonit, , , onlylevelgrassanddaisies, andivy, , secret, quietplace, andrathersad; andallfoursteppedoutintothemiddleofit, gladtobeabletostraightentheirbacksandmovetheirlimbsfreely.
