“It is very grievous，” said the Tisroc in his deep， quiet voice.
“Every morning the sun is darkened in my eyes， and everynight my sleep is the less refreshing， because I remember that Narnia is still free.”
“O my father，” said Rabadash. “How if I show you a way by which you can stretch out your arm to take Narnia and yet draw it back unharmed if the attempt prove unfortunate？”
“If you can show me that， O Rabadash，” said the Tisroc， “you will be the best of sons.”
