“I agree with that，” said Doctor Cornelius.
“And what do you think， Trumpkin？” asked Caspian.
“Oh， as for me，” said the Red Dwarf， who had been listening with complete indifference， “your Majesty knows I think the Horn.and that bit of broken stone over there. and your great King Peter.and your Lion Aslan.are all eggs in moonshine. It‘s all one to me when your Majesty blows the Horn. All I insist on is that the army is told nothing about it. There’s no good raising hopes of magical help which （as I think） are sure to be disappointed.”
“Then in the name of Aslan we will wind Queen Susan‘s Horn，” said Caspian.
“There is one thing， Sire，” said Doctor Cornelius， “that should perhaps be done first. We do not know what form the help will take. It might call Aslan himself from oversea. But I think it is more likely to call Peter the High King and his mighty consorts down from the high past. But in either case， I do not think we can be sure that the help will come to this very spot.”
“You never said a truer word，” put in Trumpkin.
