ButinthesecretandmagicalchamberattheheartoftheHow, KingCaspian, withCorneliusandtheBadgerandNikabrikandTrumpkin, —astonetable, splitrightdownthecenter, andcoveredwithwhathadoncebeenwritingofsomekind:butagesofwindandrainandsnowhadalmostwornthemawayinoldtimeswhentheStoneTablehadstoodonthehilltop, : , andbetweenthemwasaroughwoodentable, onwhichstoodarudeclaylamplightinguptheirpalefacesandthrowingbigshadowsonthewalls.
“IfyourMajestyisevertousetheHorn,” saidTrufflehunter, “Ithinkthetimehasnowcome.” Caspianhadofcoursetoldthemofhistreasureseveraldaysago.
“Wearecertainlyingreatneed,” answeredCaspian.“?”
“Bythatargument,” saidNikabrik, “yourMajestywillneveruseituntilitistoolate.”
“Iagreewiththat,” saidDoctorCornelius.
“Andwhatdoyouthink, Trumpkin?” askedCaspian.
“Oh, asforme,” saidtheRedDwarf, whohadbeenlisteningwithcompleteindifference, “yourMajestyknowsIthinktheHorn—andthatbitofbrokenstoneoverthere—andyourgreatKingPeter—andyourLionAslan—''snogoodraisinghopesofmagicalhelpwhich (asIthink) aresuretobedisappointed.”
“TheninthenameofAslanwewillwindQueenSusan'sHorn,” saidCaspian.
“Thereisonething, Sire,” saidDoctorCornelius, “, Idonotthinkwecanbesurethatthehelpwillcometothisveryspot—”
“Youneversaidatruerword,” putinTrumpkin.
