chater furteen hw all were very buy (第4/8页)
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“Great Scott ！”cried Edmund．“He’s up again．Peter，go it，Peter．”
“I couldn’t see what happened，”said the Doctor．“How did he do it？”
“Grabbed Miraz’s arm as it came down，”said Trumpkin，dancing with delight．“There’s a man for you ！ Uses his enemy’s arm as a ladder．The High King ！ The High King ！ Up，Old Narnia！”
“Look，”said Trufflehunter．“Miraz is angry．It is good．”They were certainly at it hammer and tongs now: such a flurry of blows that it seemed impossible for either not to be killed．As the excitement grew，the shouting almost died away．The spectators were holding their breath．It was most horrible and most magnificent．
A great shout arose from the Old Narnians．Miraz was a down—not struck by Peter，but face downwards，having tripped on a tussock．Peter stepped back，waiting for him to rise．
“Oh bother，bother，bother，”said Edmund to himself．“Need he be as gentlemanly as that？ I suppose he must．Comes of being a Knight and a High King．I suppose it is what Aslan would like．But that brute will be up again in a minute and then—”
But“that brute”never rose．The Lords Glozelle and Sopespian had their own plans ready．As soon as they saw their King down they leaped into the lists crying，“Treachery！ Treachery！ The Narnian traitor has stabbed him in the back while he lay helpless．To arms ！ To arms，Telmar！”
Peter hardly understood what was happening．He saw two big men running toward him with drawn swords．Then the third Telmarine had leaped over the ropes on his left．“To arms，Narnia！ Treachery！”Peter shouted．If all three had set upon him at once he would never have spoken again．But Glozelle stopped to stab his own King dead where he lay:“That’s for your insult，this morning，”he whispered as the blade went home．Peter swung to face Sopespian，slashed his legs from under him and，with the back-cut of the same stroke，walloped off his head Edmund was now at his side crying，“Narnia，Narnia！ The Lion！”The whole Telmarine army was rushing toward them．But now the Giant was stamping forward，stooping low and swinging his club.The Centaurs charged．Twang，twang behind and hiss，hiss overhead came the archery of Dwarfs．Trumpkin was fighting at his left．Full battle was joined．
“Come back，Reepicheep，you little ass！”shouted Peter．“You’ll only be killed．This is no place for mice．”But the ridiculous little creatures were dancing in and out among the feet of both armies，jabbing with their swords．Many a Telmarine warrior that day felt his foot suddenly pierced as if by a dozen skewers，hopped on one leg cursing the pain，and fell as often as not．If he fell，the mice finished him off; if he did not，someone else did．
But almost before the Old Narnians were really warmed to their work they found the enemy giving way．Tough-looking warriors turned white，gazed in terror not on the Old Narnians but on something behind them，and then flung down their weapons，shrieking，“The Wood ！ The Wood ！ The end of the world ！”
