It was long and steep， but when they came out on the roof of the tower and Caspian had got his breath， he felt that it had been well worth it. Away on his right he could see， rather indistinctly， the Western Mountains. On his left was the gleam of the Great River， and everything was so quiet that he could hear the sound of the waterfall at Beaversdam， a mile away. There was no difficulty in picking out the two stars they had come to see. They hung rather low in the southern sky， almost as bright as two little moons and very close together.
“Are they going to have a collision？” he asked in an awestruck voice.
“Nay， dear Prince，” said the Doctor （and he too spoke in a whisper）. “The great lords of the upper sky know the steps of their dance too well for that. Look well upon them. Their meeting is fortunate and means some great good for the sad realm of Narnia. Tarva， the Lord of Victory， salutes Alambil， the Lady of Peace. They are just coming to their nearest.”
“It’s a pity that tree gets in the way，” said Caspian. “We‘d really see better from the West Tower， though it is not so high.”