“Too true， too true，” said the Owl sadly， shaking its big head. “But who are you？ There’s something magic about you two. I saw you arrive： you flew. Everyone else was so busy seeing the King off that nobody knew. Except me. I happened to notice you， you flew.”
“We were sent here by Aslan，” said Eustace in a low voice.
“Tu-whoo， tu-whoo！” said the Owl， ruffling out its feathers. “This is almost too much for me， so early in the evening. I‘m not quite myself till the sun’s down.”
“And we‘ve been sent to find the lost Prince，” said Jill， who had been anxiously waiting to get into the conversation.
“It’s the first I‘ve heard about it，” said Eustace. “What prince？”
“You had better come and speak to the Lord Regent at once，” it said. “That’s him， over there in the donkey carriage； Trumpkin the Dwarf.” The bird turned and began leading the way， muttering to itself， “Whoo！ Tu-whoo！ What a to-do！ I can‘t think clearly yet. It’s too early.”
“What is the King‘s name？” asked Eustace.
“Caspian the Tenth，” said the Owl. And Jill wondered why Scrubb had suddenly pulled up short in his walk and turned an extraordinary colour. She thought she had never seen him look so sick about anything. But before she had time to ask any questions they had reached the dwarf， who was just gathering up the reins of his donkey and preparing to drive back to the castle. The crowd of courtiers had broken up and were going in the same direction， by ones and twos and little knots， like people coming away from watching a game or a race.
“Tu-whoo！ Ahem！ Lord Regent，” said the Owl， stooping down a little and holding its beak near the Dwarf ’s ear.
“Heh？ What‘s that？” said the Dwarf. “Two strangers， my lord，” said the Owl.
“ Ra n g e r s ！ W h a t d ’ y e m e a n ？ “ s a i d t h e D w a r f. “ I s e e t wo uncommonly grubby man-cubs. What do they want？”
“My name‘s Jill，” said Jill， pressing forward. She was very eager toexplain the important business on which they had come. “The girl’s called Jill，” said the Owl， as loud as it could.
“What‘s that？” said the Dwarf. “The girls are all killed！ I don’t believe a word of it. What girls？ Who killed ‘em？”
“Only one girl， my lord，” said the Owl. “Her name is Jill.”
“Speak up， speak up，” said the Dwarf. “Don’t stand there buzzing and twittering in my ear. Who‘s been killed？”
“Nobody’s been killed，” hooted the Owl. “Who？”
“NOBODY.”
“All right， all right. You needn‘t shout. I’m not so deaf as all that. What do you mean by coming here to tell me that nobody‘s been killed？ Why should anyone have been killed？”
“Better tell him I’m Eustace，” said Scrubb.
“The boy‘s Eustace， my lord，” hooted the Owl as loud as it could. “Useless？” said the Dwarf irritably. “I dare say he is. Is that anyreason for bringing him to court？ Hey？” “Not useless，” said the Owl. “EUSTACE.”
“Used to it， is he？ I don’t know what you‘re talking about， I’m sure. I tell you what it is， Master Glimfeather； when I was a young Dwarf there used to be talking beasts and birds in this country who really could talk. There wasn‘t all this mumbling and muttering and whispering. It wouldn’t have been tolerated for a moment. Not for a moment， sir. Urnus， my trumpet please-”
A little Faun who had been standing quietly beside the Dwarf ‘selbow all this time now handed him a silver ear-trumpet. It was made like the musical instrument called a serpent， so that the tube curled
right round the Dwarf ’s neck. While he was getting it settled the Owl， Glimfeather， suddenly said to the children in a whisper：
“My brain‘s a bit clearer now. Don’t say anything about the lost Prince. I‘ll explain later. It wouldn’t do， wouldn‘t do， Tu-Whoo！ Oh what a to-do！”
“Now，” said the Dwarf， “if you have anything sensible to say， MasterGlimfeather， try and say it. Take a deep breath and don’t attempt to speak too quickly.”
With help from the children， and in spite of a fit of coughing on the part of the Dwarf， Glimfeather explained that the strangers had been sent by Aslan to visit the court of Narnia. The Dwarf glanced quickly up at them with a new expression in his eyes.
“Sent by the Lion Himself， hey？” he said. “And from-m‘m-from that other Place-beyond the world’s end， hey？”
“Yes， my lord，” bawled Eustace into the trumpet.
“Son of Adam and Daughter of Eve， hey？” said the Dwarf. But people at Experiment House haven‘t heard of Adam and Eve， so Jill and Eustace couldn’t answer this. But the Dwarf didn‘t seem to notice. “Well， my dears，” he said， taking first one and then the other by the hand and bowing his head a little. “You are very heartily welcome. If the good King， my poor Master， had not this very hour set sail for Seven Isles， he would have been glad of your coming. It would have brought back his youth to him for a moment-for a moment. And now， it is high time for supper. You shall tell me your business in full council tomorrow morning. Master Glimfeather， see that bedchambers and suitable clothes and all else are provided for these guests in themost honourable fashion. And-Glimfeather-in your ear-”
Here the Dwarf put his mouth close to the Owl’s head and， no doubt， intended to whisper： but， like other deaf people， he wasn‘t a very good judge of his own voice， and both children heard him say， “See that they’re properly washed.”
After that， the Dwarf touched up his donkey and it set off towards the castle at something between a trot and a waddle （it was a very fat little beast）， while the Faun， the Owl， and the children followed at a rather slower pace. The sun had set and the air was growing cool.
They went across the lawn and then through an orchard and so to the North Gate of Cair Paravel， which stood wide open. Inside， they found a grassy courtyard. Lights were already showing from the windows of the great hall on their right and from a more complicated mass of buildings straight ahead. Into these the Owl led them， and there a most delightful person was called to look after Jill. She was not much taller than Jill herself， and a good deal slenderer， but obviously full grown， graceful as a willow， and her hair was willowy too， and there seemed to be moss in it.