“It was my Uncle， Aslan，” he said. “He sent us out of our own world by magic rings， at least I had to go because he sent Polly first， and then we met the Witch in a place called Charn and she just held on to us when.”
“You met the Witch？” said Asian in a low voice which had the threat of a growl in it.
“She woke up，” said Digory wretchedly. And then， turning very white， “I mean， I woke her. Because I wanted to know what would happen if I struck a bell. Polly didn’t want to. It wasn‘t her fault. I.I fought her. I know I shouldn’t have. I think I was a bit enchanted by the writing under the bell.”
“Do you？” asked Asian； still speaking very low and deep. “No，” said Digory. “I see now I wasn‘t. I was only pretending.”
There was a long pause. And Digory was thinking all the time， “I’ve spoiled everything. There‘s no chance of getting anything for Mother now.”
When the Lion spoke again， it was not to Digory.
