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Chapter 10

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the magician's book

the invisible people feasted their guests royally. it was very funny to see the plates and dishes coming to the table and not to see anyone carrying them. it would have been funny even if they had moved along level with the floor, as you would expect things to do in invisible hands. but they didn't. they progressed up the long dining-hall in a series of bounds or jumps. at the highest point of each jump a dish would be about fifteen feet up in the air; then it would come down and stop quite suddenly about three feet from the floor. when the dish contained anything like soup or stew the result was rather disastrous.

"i'm beginning to feel very inquisitive about these people," whispered eustace to edmund. "do you think they're human at all? more like huge grasshoppers or giant frogs, i should say."

"it does look like it," said edmund. "but don't put the idea of the grasshoppers into lucy's head. she's not too keen on insects; especially big ones."

the meal would have been pleasanter if it had not been so exceedingly messy, and also if the conversation had not consisted entirely of agreements. the invisible people agreed about everything. indeed most of their remarks were the sort it would not be easy to disagree with: "what i always say is, when a chap's hungry, he likes some victuals," or "getting dark now; always does at night," or even "ah, you've come over the water. powerful wet stuff, ain't it?" and lucy could not help looking at the dark yawning entrance to the foot of the staircase - she could see it from where she sat - and wondering what she would find when she went up those stairs next morning. but it was a good meal otherwise, with mushroom soup and boiled chickens and hot boiled ham and gooseberries, redcurrants, curds, cream, milk, and mead. the others liked the mead but eustace was sorry afterwards that he had drunk any.

when lucy woke up next morning it was like waking up on the day of an examination or a day when you are going to the dentist. it was a lovely morning with bees buzzing in and out of her open window and the lawn outside looking very like somewhere in england. she got up and dressed and tried to talk and eat ordinarily at breakfast. then, after being instructed by the chief voice about what she was to do upstairs, she bid goodbye to the others, said nothing, walked to the bottom of the stairs, and began going up them without once looking back.

it was quite light, that was one good thing. there was, indeed, a window straight ahead of her at the top of the first flight. as long as she was 9n that flight she could hear the tick-tock-tick-tock of a grandfather clock in the hall below. then she came to the landing and had to turn to her left up the next flight; after that she couldn't hear the clock any more.

now she had come to the top of the stairs. lucy looked and saw a long, wide passage with a large window at the far end. apparently the passage ran the whole length of the house. it was carved and panelled and carpeted and very many doors opened off it on each side. she stood still and couldn't hear the squeak of a mouse, or the buzzing of a fly, or the swaying of a curtain, or anything - except the beating of her own heart.

"the last doorway on the left," she said to herself. it did seem a bit hard that it should be the last. to reach it she would have to walk past room after room. and in any room there might be the magician - asleep, or awake, or invisible, or even dead. but it wouldn't do to think about that. she set out on her journey. the carpet was so thick that her feet made no noise.

"there's nothing whatever to be afraid of yet," lucy told herself. and certainly it was a quiet, sunlit passage; perhaps a bit too quiet. it would have been nicer if there had not been strange signs painted in scarlet on the doors twisty, complicated things which obviously had a meaning and it mightn't be a very nice meaning either. it would have been nicer still if there weren't those masks hanging on the wall. not that they were exactly ugly - or not so very ugly - but the empty eye-holes did look queer, and if you let yourself you would soon start imagining that the masks were doing things as soon as your back was turned to them.

after about the sixth door she got her first real fright. for one second she felt almost certain that a wicked little bearded face had popped out of the wall and made a grimace at her. she forced herself to stop and look at it. and it was not a face at all. it was a little mirror just the size and shape of her own face, with hair on the top of it and a beard hanging down from it, so that when you looked in the mirror your own face fitted into the hair and beard and it looked as if they belonged to you. "i just caught my own reflection with the tail of my eye as i went past," said lucy to herself. "that was all it was. it's quite harmless." but she didn't like the look of her own face with that hair and beard, and went on. (i don't know what the bearded glass was for because i am not a magician.)

before she reached the last door on the left, lucy was beginning to wonder whether the corridor had grown longer since she began her journey and whether this was part of the magic of the house. but she got to it at last. and the door was open.

it was a large room with three big windows and it was lined from floor to ceiling with books; more books than lucy had ever seen before, tiny little books, fat and dumpy books, and books bigger than any church bible you have ever seen, all bound in leather and smelling old and learned and magical. but she knew from her instructions that she need not bother about any of these. for the book, the magic book, was lying on a reading-desk in the very middle of the room. she saw she would have to read it standing (and anyway there were no chairs) and also that she would have to stand with her back to the door while she read it. so at once she turned to shut the door.

it wouldn't shut.

some people may disagree with lucy about this, but i think she was quite right. she said she wouldn't have minded if she could have shut the door, but that it was unpleasant to have to stand in a place like that with an open doorway right behind your back. i should have felt just the same. but there was nothing else to be done.

one thing that worried her a good deal was the size of the book. the chief voice had not been able to give her any idea whereabouts in the book the spell for making things visible came. he even seemed rather surprised at her asking. he expected her to begin at the beginning and go on till she came to it; obviously he had never thought that there was any other way of finding a place in a book. "but it might take me days and weeks!" said lucy, looking at the huge volume, "and i feel already as if i'd been in this place for hours."

she went up to the desk and laid her hand on the book; her fingers tingled when she touched it as if it were full of electricity. she tried to open it but couldn't at first; this, however, was only because it was fastened by two leaden clasps, and when she had undone these it opened easily enough. and what a book it was!

it was written, not printed; written in a clear, even hand, with thick downstrokes and thin upstrokes, very large, easier than print, and so beautiful that lucy stared at it for a whole minute and forgot about reading it. the paper was crisp and smooth and a nice smell came from it; and in the margins, and round the big coloured capital letters at the beginning of each spell, there were pictures.

there was no title page or title; the spells began straight away, and at first there was nothing very important in them. they were cures for warts (by washing your hands in moonlight in a silver basin) and toothache and cramp, and a spell for taking a swarm of bees. the picture of the man with toothache was so lifelike that it would have set your own teeth aching if you looked at it too long, and the golden bees which were dotted all round the fourth spell looked for a moment as if they were really flying.

lucy could hardly tear herself away from that first page, but when she turned over, the next was just as interesting. "but i must get on," she told herself. and on she went for about thirty pages which, if she could have remembered them, would have taught her how to find buried treasure, how to remember things forgotten, how to forget things you wanted to forget, how to tell whether anyone was speaking the truth, how to call up (or prevent) wind, fog, snow, sleet or rain, how to produce enchanted sleeps and how to give a man an ass's head (as they did to poor bottom). and the longer she read the more wonderful and more real the pictures became.

then she came to a page which was such a blaze of pictures that one hardly noticed the writing. hardly - but she did notice the first words. they were, an infallible spell to make beautiful her that uttereth it beyond the lot of mortals. lucy peered at the pictures with her face close to the page, and though they had seemed crowded and muddlesome before, she found she could now see them quite clearly. the first was a picture of a girl standing at a reading-desk reading in a huge book. and the girl was dressed exactly like lucy. in the next picture lucy (for the girl in the picture was lucy herself) was standing up with her mouth open and a rather terrible expression on her face, chanting or reciting something. in the third picture the beauty beyond the lot of mortals had come to her. it was strange, considering how small the pictures had looked at first, that the lucy in the picture now seemed quite as big as the real lucy; and they looked into each other's eyes and the real lucy looked away after a few minutes because she was dazzled by the beauty of the other lucy; though she could still see a sort of likeness to herself in that beautiful face. and now the pictures came crowding on her thick and fast. she saw herself throned on high at a great tournament in calormen and all the kings of the world fought because of her beauty. after that it turned from tournaments to real wars, and all narnia and archenland, telmar and calormen, galma and terebinthia, were laid waste with the fury of the kings and dukes and great lords who fought for her favour. then it changed and lucy, still beautiful beyond the lot of mortals, was back in england. and susan (who had always been the beauty of the family) came home from america. the susan in the picture looked exactly like the real susan only plainer and with a nasty expression. and susan was jealous of the dazzling beauty of lucy, but that didn't matter a bit because no one cared anything about susan now.

"i will say the spell," said lucy. "i don't care. i will."

she said i don't care because she had a strong feeling that she mustn't.

but when she looked back at the opening words of the spell, there in the middle of the writing, where she felt quite sure there had been no picture before, she found the great face of a lion, of the lion, aslan himself, staring into hers. it was painted such a bright gold that it seemed to be coming towards her out of the page; and indeed she never was quite sure afterwards that it hadn't really moved a little. at any rate she knew the expression on his face quite well. he was growling and you could see most of his teeth. she became horribly afraid and turned over the page at once.

a little later she came to a spell which would let you know what your friends thought about you. now lucy had wanted very badly to try the other spell, the one that made you beautiful beyond the lot of mortals. so she felt that to make up for not having said it, she really would say this one. and all in a hurry, for fear her mind would change, she said the words (nothing will induce me to tell you what they were). then she waited for something to happen.

as nothing happened she began looking at the pictures. and all at once she saw the very last thing she expected - a picture of a third-class carriage in a train, with two schoolgirls sitting in it. she knew them at once. they were marjorie preston and anne featherstone. only now it was much more than a picture. it was alive. she could see the telegraph posts flicking past outside the window. then gradually (like when the radio is "coming on") she could hear what they were saying.

"shall i see anything of you this term?" said anne, "or are you still going to be all taken up with lucy pevensie. "

"don't know what you mean by taken up," said marjorie.

"oh yes, you do," said anne. "you were crazy about her last term."

"no, i wasn't," said marjorie. "i've got more sense than that. not a bad little kid in her way. but i was getting pretty tired of her before the end of term."

"well, you jolly well won't have the chance any other term!" shouted lucy. "two-faced little beast." but the sound of her own voice at once reminded her that she was talking to a picture and that the real marjorie was far away in another world.

"well," said lucy to herself, "i did think better of her than that. and i did all sorts of things for her last term, and i stuck to her when not many other girls would. and she knows it too. and to anne featherstone of all people! i wonder are all my friends the same? there are lots of other pictures. no. i won't look at any more. i won't, i won't' and with a great effort she turned over the page, but not before a large, angry tear had splashed on it.

on the next page she came to a spell "for the refreshment of the spirit'. the pictures were fewer here but very beautiful. and what lucy found herself reading was more like a story than a spell. it went on for three pages and before she had read to the bottom of the page she had forgotten that she was reading at all. she was living in the story as if it were real, and all the pictures were real too. when she had got to the third page and come to the end, she said, "that is the loveliest story i've ever read or ever shall read in my whole life. oh, i wish i could have gone on reading it for ten years. at least i'll read it over again."

but here part of the magic of the book came into play. you couldn't turn back. the right-hand pages, the ones ahead, could be turned; the left-hand pages could not.

"oh, what a shame!" said lucy. "i did so want to read it again. well, at least i must remember it. let's see . . . it was about . . . about . . . oh dear, it's all fading away again.

and even this last page is going blank. this is a very queer book. how can i have forgotten? it was about a cup and a sword and a tree and a green hill, i know that much. but i can't remember and what shall i do?"

and she never could remember; and ever since that day what lucy means by a good story is a story which reminds her of the forgotten story in the magician's book.

she turned on and found to her surprise a page with no pictures at all; but the first words were a spell to make hidden things visible. she read it through to make sure of all the hard words and then said it out loud. and she knew at once that it was working because as she spoke the colours came into the capital letters at the top of the page and the pictures began appearing in the margins. it was like when you hold to the fire something written in invisible ink and the writing gradually shows up; only instead of the dingy colour of lemon juice (which is the easiest invisible ink) this was all gold and blue and scarlet. they were odd pictures and contained many figures that lucy did not much like the look of. and then she thought, "i suppose i've made everything visible, and not only the thumpers. there might be lots of other invisible things hanging about a place like this. i'm not sure that i want to see them all."

at that moment she heard soft, heavy footfalls coming along the corridor behind her; and of course she remembered what she had been told about the magician walking in his bare feet and making no more noise than a cat. it is always better to turn round than to have anything creeping up behind your back. lucy did so.

then her face lit up till, for a moment (but of course she didn't know it), she looked almost as beautiful as that other lucy in the picture, and she ran forward with a little cry of delight and with her arms stretched out. for what stood in the doorway was aslan himself, the lion, the highest of all high kings. and he was solid and real and warm and he let her kiss him and bury herself in his shining mane. and from the low, earthquake-like sound that came from inside him, lucy even dared to think that he was purring.

"oh, aslan," said she, "it was kind of you to come."

"i have been here all the time," said he, "but you have just made me visible."

"aslan!" said lucy almost a little reproachfully. "don't make fun of me. as if anything 1 could do would make you visible!"

"it did," said aslan. "do you think i wouldn't obey my own rules?"

after a little pause he spoke again.

"child," he said, "i think you have been eavesdropping."

"eavesdropping?"

"you listened to what your two schoolfellows were saying about you."

"oh that? i never thought that was eavesdropping, aslan. wasn't it magic?"

"spying on people by magic is the same as spying on them in any other way. and you have misjudged your friend. she is weak, but she loves you. she was afraid of the older girl and said what she does not mean."

"i don't think i'd ever be able to forget what i heard her say."

"no, you won't."

"oh dear," said lucy. "have i spoiled everything? do you mean we would have gone on being friends if it hadn't been for this - and been really great friends - all our lives perhaps- and now we never shall."

"child," said aslan, "did i not explain to you once before that no one is ever told what would have happened?"

"yes, aslan, you did," said lucy. "i'm sorry. but please -"

"speak on, dear heart."

"shall i ever be able to, read that story again; the one i couldn't remember? will you tell it to me, aslan? oh do, do, do."

"indeed, yes, i will tell it to you for years and years. but now, come. we must meet the master of this house."

10、魔法书

隐身人隆重宴请他们的客人。眼看大盘小盘送到桌上,却又看不见有人搬送,倒非常有趣。即使只见大盘小盘沿着地面一路往前移动也够有趣的了,照你料想隐形手搬运东西想必就是这模样。可是偏偏不是这样。这些餐盘竟然是连蹦带跳,一路朝长长的餐厅行进。一只餐盘一跳最高竟达十五英尺,一下子又突然落到离地三英尺的地方停下。要是餐盘里盛着汤水或炖莱什么的,那结果就够惨了。

"我对这些人倒感到非常好奇起来了,"尤斯塔斯跟爱德蒙咬耳朵说,"你看他们究竟是不是人?我看倒更像大蚱蜢或大青蛙呢。

"看起来倒像,"爱德蒙说,"可别让露茜想起什么蚱蜢。她不大喜欢昆虫,尤其是大个的。"

`这顿饭要不是弄得乱七八糟,而且话题不总是意见一致那一套,倒还要尽兴些。隐身人对什么事情都意见一致。他们的说法多半是那种难以不同意的一套"我总是说,人饿了就喜欢找点吃的,"或者"天黑了,一到晚上天总要黑,甚至还有"啊呀,你们是漂洋过海来的啊,海是很湿很湿的吧?"露茜在座位上正好看得见楼梯脚下那黑洞洞的楼梯口,不禁朝那里看着,心里很想知道明天早晨走上楼梯会有什么发现。不过其他方面说来这顿饭菜还不坏,有蘑菇汤、煮熟的鸡、煮熟的热火腿、鹅莓、红醋栗、奶酷、奶油、牛奶和蜂蜜酒。另外几个都喜欢蜂蜜酒,不过饭后尤斯塔斯后悔有点喝醉了。

第二天早晨露茜醒来,那心情就像在考试那天或上牙医生那儿去的早晨醒来一样。晨光明媚,蜜蜂嗡嗡叫,在开着的窗口飞出飞进,窗外草地看上去非常像英国什么地方。她起身梳妆,早餐时尽量和平常一样边谈边吃。吃完早餐,头儿声音吩咐她在楼上该如何行事后,她就同其他几个告别,一言不发,径自走到楼梯脚边,头也不回,开始上楼。

幸亏光线很亮,可不,第一段楼梯头上就有一扇窗笔直对着他。她走在那段楼梯上,一直听见下面过道上那只高背大时钟滴答滴答走着。待她走到楼梯台,得往左拐到第二段楼梯,此后就再也听不见钟声了。

这时露茜来到了楼上,一看只见一条又长又宽的走廊,走廊尽头有扇大窗子。这条走廊分明跟整幢房子一样长。走廊上有雕花和镶嵌木板,还铺着地毯,两边有好多扇门都开着。她站着一动也不动,听不见老鼠吱吱叫,也听不见苍蝇嗡嗡叫,听不见窗帘坝坝飘,什么都听不见——只听见自己的心在怦怦跳。

"左边最后一个门口。"她自言自语说。得走到最后一个门口倒有点难。要走到那儿就得一间间屋子走过去。任何一间屋子都可能有魔法师——睡着了,或是醒着,或是隐身,甚至可能死了。不过心里想着这种事可不行。她开始她的艰苦历程了。地毯好厚,她的脚踩上去无声无息。

"还没有什么事情好害怕的呢。"露茜暗自说。这条走廊的确安静,一片阳光,也许太安静了。要是那些门上没漆着猩红的古怪符号本来还会更好些——这些符号歪歪扭扭,图形复杂,显然含有什么意义,可能也不是什么很好的意义吧。要是墙上没挂着那些面具就更好了。倒不是说那些面具丑陋不堪——或者说不是很丑——而是面具上一个个空洞的眼窝看上去真是怪怪的,如果你由着自己瞎想,马上就会想到自己一转身,面具就会下手呢。

走到第六扇门之后,她才真正吓了一跳。刹那间她几乎认定有一张长着胡子,邪气十足的小脸冲出墙壁,对她做个鬼脸。她勉强站住,望着鬼脸。原来这根本不是一张脸,而是一面小镜子,大小形状跟她的脸恰好一样,镜子上边有头发,下端挂着一把胡子,所以你朝镜子里一看,你的脸就正好配上头发和胡子,看上去像长在你头上似的。"我只是走过时眼角一扫,看见自己的影子了,"露茜暗自说,"原来是这么回事。一点也不碍事。"不过她并不喜欢自己的脸长着那种头发和胡子,就径自往前走。(因为我不是魔法师,所以不知道长胡子的镜子派什么用处。

露茜还没走到左面最后一扇门,心里不禁纳闷起来,从她开始这段历程以来,这条走廊是不是越来越长了,这是不是房子的魔法的一部分。可是她终究走到了。门开着。

这是间大房间,有三扇大窗,一排排的书从地板上一直堆到天花板;露茜从来没见过这么多书,有的小书小巧玲珑,有的大书笨重厚实,有的书比你见过的任何教堂的〈圣经〉还要大,全是皮面精装的,一股陈旧的书卷气,透着魔法味儿。不过已经有人吩咐过她了,她知道用不着为哪一本书操心。因为那本书,魔法书,就放在房间正中一张书桌上。她明白自己得站着看了(反正没有椅子),而且她看书时得背对着门站着,于是她马上转身去关门。

门关不上。

有人会不赞成露茜这么做,可我认为她做得完全对。她说能关上门就不用担心了,可是要你站在这种地方,背后直对着洞开的门,心里总不好受。要是我一定也会有这种感觉。可是又没有什么办法。

有一件使她大伤脑筋的事是书这么大。头儿没法告诉她现形的咒语在魔法书上哪一段。他听到她问起甚至还大为惊讶昵。他想让她从头看起,查到才罢休;显然他就没想过还有别的法子好在书里查到这一段。"只是这样看兴许要化上我好几天、好几星期的工夫呢!"露茜看着那本厚厚的大书说,"而且我觉得就像已经在这地方待了好几个小时了。"

她走到书桌前,手搁在书上;手指刚摸到书就不由震颤一下,仿佛书里充电似的。她竭力打开书,可是起初打不开,不过这只是因为书给两个铅扣子夹住了。等她解开扣子,就一下子打开了书。这是本多怪的书啊!

这是手写本,不是印刷本,字迹清晰,笔法匀称,向下捺的笔划粗,向上挑的笔划细,字体很大,看起来比印刷体舒服,写得极美,露茜盯着看了整整一分钟,忘了念了。纸张又脆又滑,有股好闻的味儿,在空白处和每段咒语开头的大写字母周围,还有插图。

这本书没有扉页,也没有书名;开门见山就是咒语,开头几条没什么大不了的。有治疗疵子的土法(在月光下用银盆洗手),有治牙痛的,有治抽筋的,还有一种捕捉蜂群的咒语。牙痛病人那幅插图画得很生动,要是你对着画看得太久了,牙齿也会发痛呢。第四条咒语周围密密麻麻画着金黄色蜜蜂,要是你对着画多看一会儿,它们就仿佛真在飞舞。,

露茜看了第一页就舍不得离开,但等翻过一页,下页还是同样有趣。"可我必须翻下去,"她暗自说。她路往下翻了三十页,如果她记得住上面内容的话,就可以学会怎样去找寻宝藏,怎样记住忘掉的事物,怎样忘掉想要忘掉的事物,怎样呼风,怎样唤雨,怎样求雪,怎样变雾,怎样招雨夹雪,以及怎样招之即来,挥之即去。她看得越久,插图就越奇妙,越逼真。

接下来她翻到一页,上面的插图光彩夺目,叫你简直没法注意写的字。简直没法——可她还是注意到开头一行字句,这样写道:美貌超群绝伦灵方。露茜脸蛋凑到书页上盯着看插图,虽然刚才图画似乎挤成一团,模糊不清,可是现在她看起来十分清楚了。第一幅画的是一个姑娘站在书桌前看本大书。那姑娘的穿着跟露茜一模一样。第二幅画上露茜(因为画中人就是露茜)站着,张大嘴巴念念有词,脸色相当可怕。第三幅画上那个美入向她走来了。怪的是想想这些画开头看上去多么小,现在画中露茜看上去竟跟露茜真人一般大小了,两人对视了片刻,真露茜就移开眼光,因为她被画中露茜的美貌弄得眼花缭乱,但她还能从那张美丽的脸蛋中看出跟她本人的相像之处。现在这些画面迅速向她蜂拥而来。她看见自己在卡乐门国一次大比武中高踞宝座,世界各国的国王为她的美貌而拼杀。后来从比武中的拼杀演变为真正的战争,由于各国国王、公爵和大贵族疯狂争夺她的青睐,纳尼亚、阿钦兰、台尔马、卡乐门、加尔马和特里宾西亚各国都弄得生灵涂炭,一片荒芜。后来,画面一变,依然是绝色美人的露茜,回到英国。原来一直是家里的美人儿苏珊从美国回来了。画中的苏珊活像苏珊本人,只是难看些,一副生气的神情。苏珊妒忌露茜那份令人眼花缭乱的美貌,不过这一点也没关系,因为现在谁也不把苏珊放在心上了。

"我一定要念这条咒语,"露茜说,"我不管。我一定要念。"她说我不管,因为她心里一股劲地觉得她念不得。

谁知正当她回头再去看那条咒语开头的字句时,原先她完全肯定没有画面的字里行间,却发现有只狮子,狮王阿斯兰的大脸正深深盯着她的脸。画面色彩金光灿灿,那狮子仿佛走出画面,向她迎面而来。事后她当然也不敢十分肯定画上狮子真的不曾有过一点活动。总而言之,她十分清楚狮子脸上的表情。他正在咆哮,你都看得见他大半口牙了。她害怕得不得了,就马上翻过这一页。

过一会儿她又翻到一条咒语,可以让你知道你朋友对你的看法。其实这时露茜心里很想试试刚才那条咒语,那条使你变得美貌超群绝伦的咒语。所以她感到为了弥补没念刚才那条咒语的损失,倒真愿意念念这条看。她生怕自己改变主意,就匆匆忙忙念了咒语(我是决不会告诉你们这些咒语的)。念完她就等着看结果。

一看毫无结果,她就看起插图了。突然一下子她看见自己最意想不到的一幕——一节火车的三等车厢,里面坐着两个女学生。她马上就认出她们。一个是玛乔丽;普雷斯顿,一个是安妮;费瑟斯通。不过现在这不仅是一幅画了。这幅画是活动的。她看得见火车窗外电线杆飞驰而过。她看得见两个姑娘有说有笑。接着就像"打开"收音机似的,她渐渐听得见她们说的话。

"这学期我能见你一两面吗?"安妮说,"你还是打算一直跟露茜;佩文西鬼混?”

"不知道你说的鬼混是什么意思?"玛乔丽说。

"晴,你知道的,"安妮说,"你上学期对她可痴心呢。"

"不,我没有,"玛乔丽说,"我很有头脑,不会这么做的。说起来她还不算坏孩子。但学期还没结束我就对她厌透了。"

"得了,你哪一学期都决不会有这机会了i"露茜大叫道,"两面三刀的小畜生。"可是听到自己的嗓门这么大,又顿时想起她是在对着一幅画说话,真正的玛乔丽远在另外一个世界里呢。

"得了,"露茜自言自语说,"我过去对她的看法倒真不坏。上学期我替她做了各种各样的事,别的姑娘不大有人多理她,我偏守着她。这点她也有数。偏偏去找安妮;费瑟斯通!我真想知道我所有的朋友是不是都一样?还有不少图呢。不,我决不再看了。我决不看了,我决不看了。"——她费了好大劲儿才翻过这页,可是不久,一大滴愤怒的眼泪就溅在上面了。

在下一页她看到一条"提神法"的咒语。这一页插图虽少,不过很美。露茜不知不觉看的竟不是咒语,倒更像一篇故事。这篇故事有三页,她还没看到这一页末了,就完全忘了自己是在看书。她生活在这故事中,好像这是真事似的,而且所有的画面也是真的。当她翻到第三页,看到末了一行,她说"这是我所看过的最可爱的故事,今后这辈子可看不到这么可爱的故事了。啊呀,我真希望我能一直看上十年。至少我要再看一遍。"

谁知这本书的魔法到此有些起作用了。你不能再倒翻过去,只有右手一边的书页,后面的书页才翻得过去,左手一边的,前面的书页就翻不过来了。

"啊呀,真糟糕!ii露茜说,"我真想再看一遍呢。好吧,至少,我一定得记住它。让我看看……写的是……是……天哪,图文又全消失了。连末了一页也一片空白。这是本非常古怪的书。我怎么能忘记呢?这故事讲的是一只酒杯、一把宝剑、一棵树,还有一座青山,我只知道这么多。可我记不住,我怎么办啊?"

而且她永远也记不起来了;从那一天起,露茜心目中认为的好故事,指的就是使她想起魔法书中忘掉了的故事的一个故事。

她再翻过去,不料翻到一页根本没有插图,不过开头的字句倒写着:隐形事物现形法。她先从头到尾看一遍,把全部生字认认准,再大声念出来。一念她就立刻知道咒语起作用了,因为她一念出声,书页上部的大写字母就现出颜色来,空白处也开始现出图画来。正像你把用隐显墨水写的字放在火上烤,字迹就渐渐现出来一样,只是用的不是拧橡汁(最简易的隐显墨水)那种暗黑色,而是纯金的、碧蓝的和猩红的颜色。这些画都很怪,其中有不少人物的样子露茜可不大喜欢。于是她心里想,"我不仅把砰砰砰的东西现了原形,而且大概把一切东西都现形了。这么个地方准有不少其他隐形的东西在闲逛呢,我可说不准要不要都见见。"

就在那工夫,她听到身后一阵轻柔而有力的脚步声,沿着走廊过来,她当然记得他们跟她说过魔法师光着脚,像猫似的走路不出声的事。回过头去看看清楚总比有什么偷偷摸到你背后要好些。露茜回过头去看了。

于是她脸上露出笑容,一时间(但她当然不知道),她看上去几乎就同画中的露茜一样美丽了,她高兴得轻轻叫了一声,伸出双臂,奔上前去。站在门口的原来就是所有至尊王中最至高无上的狮王阿斯兰本人。他是真的,结结实实,暖暖和和,他听任她亲吻,把脸埋在闪闪发亮的狮霞里。他身子里发出犹如地震的低沉声音,露茜甚至敢于想象他是在咕噜呢。.

"啊呀,阿斯兰,"她说,"谢谢你还特地来一次。"

"我一直在这里,"他说,"只是你让我现了形罢了。"

"阿斯兰!”露茜稍带责怪的口气说,"别拿我开玩笑了。好像我真有什么办法让你现形似的!"

"真的,"阿斯兰说,"你认为我会违背自己的规则吗?"

沉默了片刻,他又说话了。

"孩子啊,"他说,"我看你刚才一直在偷听。""偷听?"

"你听两个同学背后在说你。"

"啊呀,那个吗?我根本没想到那是偷听呢,阿斯兰。那不是魔法吗?"

"用魔法暗中监视人家跟用任何其他办法监视是一回事。你错看你的朋友了。她虽然为人软弱,可是她爱你。她害怕那年龄大的姑娘,才说了违心的话。"

"我想,我再也忘不了我听到她说的那番话。""不,你不能这样。"

"啊呀,"露茜说,"我把一切都搞糟了吗?你意思是说,如果没有这么回事,我们原来会一直是朋友——成为真正的好朋友——说不定是终身朋友——可现在我们就不行了吧?"

"孩子啊,"阿斯兰说,"以前我没跟你说清楚,谁也无法预知将来发生的事吗?"

"不错,阿斯兰,你说过,"露茜说,"对不起。可是请……”

"心肝儿,说啊。"

"我还能再看一遍那故事吗?就是我记不起来的那一个。你愿意跟我讲那故事吗,阿斯兰?唉,讲吧,讲吧,讲吧。"

"好,一定讲,我要对你讲好多好多年。可是现在,快来吧。我们该去见见这屋子的主入了。

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