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“THIS wasn’t a garden，”said Susan presently．“It was a castle and this must have been the courtyard．”
“I see what you mean，”said Peter．“Yes．That is the remains of a tower．And there is what used to be a flight of steps going up to the top of the walls．And look at those other steps-the broad，shallow ones-going up to that doorway．It must have been the door into the great hall．”
“Ages ago，by the look of it，”said Edmund．
“Yes，ages ago，”said Peter．“I wish we could find out who the people were that lived in this castle; and how long ago．”
“It gives me a queer feeling，”said Lucy．
“Does it，Lu？”said Peter，turning and looking hard at her．“Because it does the same to me．It is the queerest thing that has happened this queer day．I wonder where we are and what it all means？”
While they were talking they had crossed the courtyard and gone through the other doorway into what had once been the hall．This was now very like the courtyard，for the roof had long since disappeared and it was merely another space of grass and daisies，except that it was shorter and narrower and the walls were higher．Across the far end there was a kind of terrace about three feet higher than the rest．
“I wonder，was it really the hall？”said Susan．“What is that terrace kind of thing？”
“Why，you silly，”said Peter (who had become strangely excited)，“don’t you see？ That was the dais where the High Table was，where the King and the great lords sat．Anyone would think you had forgotten that we ourselves were once Kings and Queens and sat on a dais just like that，in our great hall．”
“In our castle of Cair Paravel，”continued Susan in a dreamy and rather sing song voice，“at the mouth of the great river of Narnia．How could I forget？”
“How it all comes back！”said Lucy．“We could pretend we were in Cair Paravel now．This hall must have been very like the great hall we feasted in．”
“But unfortunately without the feast，”said Edmund．“It’s getting late，you know．Look how long the shadows are．And have you noticed that it isn’t so hot？”
“We shall need a camp-fire if we’ve got to spend the night here，”said Peter．“I’ve got matches．Let’s go and see if we can collect some dry wood．”
Everyone saw the sense of this，and for the next half-hour they were busy．The orchard through which they had first come into the ruins turned out not to be a good place for firewood．They tried the other side of the castle，passing out of the hall by a little side door into a maze of stony humps and hollows which must once have been passages and smaller rooms but was now all nettles and wild roses．Beyond this they found a wide gap in the castle wall and stepped through it into a wood of darker and bigger trees where they found dead branches and rotten wood and sticks and dry leaves and fir-cones in plenty．They went to and fro with bundles until they had a good pile on the dais．At the fifth journey they found the well，just outside the hall，hidden in weeds，but clean and fresh and deep when they had cleared these away．The remains of a stone pavement ran half-way round it．Then the girls went out to pick some more apples and the boys built the fire，on the dais and fairly close to the corner between two walls，which they thought would be the snuggest and warmest place．They had great difficulty in lighting it and used a lot of matches，but they succeeded in the end．Finally，all four sat down with their backs to the wall and their faces to the fire．They tried roasting some of the apples on the ends of sticks．But roast apples are not much good without sugar，and they are too hot to eat with your fingers till they are too cold to be worth eating．So they had to content themselves with raw apples，which，as Edmund said，made one realize that school suppers weren’t so bad after all—“I shouldn’t mind a good thick slice of bread and margarine this minute，”he added．But the spirit of adventure was rising in them all，and no one really wanted to be back at school．
Shortly after the last apple had been eaten，Susan went out to the well to get another drink．When she came back she was carrying something in her hand．
“Look，”she said in a rather choking kind of voice．“I found it by the well．”She handed it to Peter and sat down．The others thought she looked and sounded as if she might be going to cry．Edmund and Lucy eagerly bent forward to see what was in Peter’s hand—a little，bright thing that gleamed in the firelight．
“Well，I’m—I’m jiggered，”said Peter，and his voice also sounded queer．Then he handed it to the others．
All now saw what it was—a little chess-knight，ordinary in size but extraordinarily heavy because it was made of pure gold; and the eyes in the horse’s head were two tiny little rubies-or rather one was，for the other had been knocked out．
“Why！”said Lucy，“it’s exactly like one of the golden chessmen we used to play with when we were Kings and Queens at Cair Paravel．”
“Cheer up，Su，”said Peter to his other sister．
“I can’t help it，”said Susan．“It brought back—oh，such lovely times．And I remembered playing chess with fauns and good giants，and the mer-people singing in the sea，and my beautiful horse—and—and—”
“Now，”said Peter in a quite different voice，“it’s about time we four started using our brains．”
“What about？”asked Edmund．
“Have none of you guessed where we are？”said Peter．
“Go on，go on，”said Lucy．“I’ve felt for hours that there was some wonderful mystery hanging over this place．”
“Fire ahead，Peter，”said Edmund．“We’re all listening．”
“We are in the ruins of Cair Paravel itself，”said Peter．
“But，I say，”replied Edmund．“I mean，how do you make that out？ This place has been ruined for ages．Look at all those big trees growing right up to the gates．Look at the very stones．Anyone can see that nobody has lived here for hundreds of years．”
“I know，”said Peter．“That is the difficulty．But let’s leave that out for the moment．I want to take the points one by one．First point: this hall is exactly the same shape and size as the hall at Cair Paravel．Just picture a roof on this，and a coloured pavement instead of grass，and tapestries on the walls，and you get our royal banqueting hall．”
No one said anything．
“Second point，”continued Peter．“The castle well is exactly where our well was，a little to the south of the great hall; and it is exactly the same size and shape．”
Again there was no reply．
“Third point: Susan has just found one of our old chessmen—or something as like one of them as two peas．”
Still nobody answered．
“Fourth point．Don’t you remember—it was the very day before the ambassadors came from the King of Calormen—don’t you remember planting the orchard outside the north gate of Cair Paravel？ The greatest of all the wood-people，Pomona herself，came to put good spells on it．It was those very decent little chaps the moles who did the actual digging．Can you have forgotten that funny old Lilygloves，the chief mole，leaning on his spade and saying，Believe me，your Majesty，you’ll be glad of these fruit trees one day． And by Jove he was right．”
“I do！ I do！”said Lucy，and clapped her hands．
“But look here，Peter，”said Edmund．“This must be all rot．To begin with，we didn’t plant the orchard slap up against the gate．We wouldn’t have been such fools．”
“No，of course not，”said Peter．“But it has grown up to the gate since．”
“And for another thing，”said Edmund，“Cair Paravel wasn’t on an island．”
