"Then I really think I can trust you."
"Dam' good of you," said Jill.
"Yes, but this is a really terrific secret. Pole, I say, are you good at believing things? I mean things that everyone here would laugh at?"
"I've never had the chance," said Jill, "but I think I would be."
"Could you believe me if I said I'd been right out of the world - outside this world - last hols?"
"I wouldn't know what you meant."
"Well, don't let's bother about that then. Supposing I told you I'd been in a place where animals can talk and where there are - er - enchantments and dragons - and well, all the sorts of things you have in fairy-tales." Scrubb felt terribly awkward as he said this and got red in the face.
"How did you get there?" said Jill. She also felt curiously shy.
"The only way you can - by Magic," said Eustace almost in a whisper. "I was with two cousins of mine. We were just - whisked away. They'd been there before."
Now that they were talking in whispers Jill somehow felt it easier to believe. Then suddenly a horrible suspicion came over her and she said (so fiercely that for the moment she looked like a tigress):
"If I find you've been pulling my leg I'll never speak to you again; never, never, never."
"I'm not," said Eustace. "I swear I'm not. I swear by everything."
(When I was at school one would have said, "I swear by the Bible." But Bibles were not encouraged at Experiment House.)
"All right," said Jill, "I'll believe you."
"And tell nobody?"
"What do you take me for?"
They were very excited as they said this. But when they had said it and Jill looked round and saw the dull autumn sky and heard the drip off the leaves and thought of all the hopelessness of Experiment House (it was a thirteen-week term and there were still eleven weeks to come) she said:
"But after all, what's the good? We're not there: we're here. And we jolly well can't get there. Or can we?"
"That's what I've been wondering," said Eustace. "When we came back from That Place, Someone said that the two Pevensie kids (that's my two cousins) could never go there again. It was their third time, you see. I suppose they've had their share. But he never said I couldn't. Surely he would have said so, unless he meant that I was to get back? And I can't help wondering, can we - could we - ?"
"Do you mean, do something to make it happen?"
Eustace nodded.
"You mean we might draw a circle on the ground - and write in queer letters in it - and stand inside it - and recite charms and spells?"
"Well," said Eustace after he had thought hard for a bit. "I believe that was the sort of thing I was thinking of, though I never did it. But now that it comes to the point, I've an idea that all those circles and things are rather rot. I don't think he'd like them. It would look as if we thought we could make him do things. But really, we can only ask him."
"Who is this person you keep on talking about?"
"They call him Aslan in That Place," said Eustace.
"What a curious name!"
"Not half so curious as himself," said Eustace solemnly. "But let's get on. It can't do any harm, just asking. Let's stand side by side, like this. And we'll hold out our arms in front of us with the palms down: like they did in Ramandu's island - "
"Whose island?"
"I'll tell you about that another time. And he might like us to face the east. Let's see, where is the east?"
"I don't know," said Jill.