"Is-is he a man?" asked Lucy.
    
    "Aslan a man!" said Mr Beaver sternly. "Certainly not. I tell you he is the King of 
the wood and the son of the great Emperor-beyond-the-Sea. Don't you know who is the King 
of Beasts? Aslan is a lion-the Lion, the great Lion."
    
    "Ooh!" said Susan, "I'd thought he was a man. Is he-quite safe? I shall feel rather 
nervous about meeting a lion."
    
    "That you will, dearie, and no mistake," said Mrs Beaver; "if there's anyone who can 
appear before Aslan without their knees knocking, they're either braver than most or else 
just silly."
    
    "Then he isn't safe?" said Lucy.
    
    "Safe?" said Mr Beaver; "don't you hear what Mrs Beaver tells you? Who said anything 
about safe? 'Course he isn't safe. But he's good. He's the King, I tell you."
    
    "I'm longing to see him," said Peter, "even if I do feel frightened when it comes to 
the point."
    
    "That's right, Son of Adam," said Mr Beaver, bringing his paw down on the table with 
a crash that made all the cups and saucers rattle. "And so you shall. Word has been sent 
that you are to meet him, tomorrow if you can, at the Stone Table.'
    
    "Where's that?" said Lucy.
    
    "I'll show you," said Mr Beaver. "It's down the river, a good step from here. I'll 
take you to it!"
    
    "But meanwhile what about poor Mr Tumnus?" said Lucy.
    
    "The quickest way you can help him is by going to meet Aslan," said Mr Beaver, "once 
he's with us, then we can begin doing things. Not that we don't need you too. For that's 
another of the old rhymes:
    
    When Adam's flesh and Adam's bone
    
    Sits at Cair Paravel in throne,
    
    The evil time will be over and done.
    
    So things must be drawing near their end now he's come and you've come. We've heard 
of Aslan coming into these parts before-long ago, nobody can say when. But there's never 
been any of your race here before."
    
    "That's what I don't understand, Mr Beaver," said Peter, "I mean isn't the Witch 
herself human?"
    
    "She'd like us to believe it," said Mr Beaver, "and it's on that that she bases her 
claim to be Queen. But she's no Daughter of Eve. She comes of your father Adam's"-(here 
Mr Beaver bowed) "your father Adam's first wife, her they called Lilith. And she was one 
of the Jinn. That's what she comes from on one side. And on the other she comes of the 
giants. No, no, there isn't a drop of real human blood in the Witch."
    
    "That's why she's bad all through, Mr Beaver," said Mrs Beaver.
    
    "True enough, Mrs Beaver," replied he, "there may be two views about humans (meaning 
no offence to the present company). But there's no two views about things that look like 
humans and aren't."
    
    "I've known good Dwarfs," said Mrs Beaver.
    
    "So've I, now you come to speak of it," said her husband, "but precious few, and they 
were the ones least like men. But in general, take my advice, when you meet anything 
that's going to be human and isn't yet, or used to be human once and isn't now, or ought 
to be human and isn't, you keep your eyes on it and feel for your hatchet. And that's why 
the Witch is always on the lookout for any humans in Narnia. She's been watching for you 
this many a year, and if she knew there were four of you she'd be more dangerous still."
    
    "What's that to do with it?" asked Peter.
    
    "Because of another prophecy," said Mr Beaver. "Down at Cair Paravel-that's the 
castle on the sea coast down at the mouth of this river which ought to be the capital of 
the whole country if all was as it should be-down at Cair Paravel there are four thrones 
and it's a saying in Narnia time out of mind that when two Sons of Adam and two Daughters 
of Eve sit in those four thrones, then it will be the end not only of the White Witch's 
reign but of her life, and that is why we had to be so cautious as we came along, for if 
she knew about you four, your lives wouldn't be worth a shake of my whiskers!"
    
    All the children had been attending so hard to what Mr Beaver was telling them that 
they had noticed nothing else for a long time. Then during the moment of silence that 
followed his last remark, Lucy suddenly said:
    
    "I say-where's Edmund?"
    
    There was a dreadful pause, and then everyone began asking "Who saw him last? How 
long has he been missing? Is he outside? and then all rushed to the door and looked out. 
The snow was falling thickly and steadily, the green ice of the pool had vanished under a 
thick white blanket, and from where the little house stood in the centre of the dam you 
could hardly see either bank. Out they went, plunging well over their ankles into the 
soft new snow, and went round the house in every direction. "Edmund! Edmund!" they called 
till they were hoarse. But the silently falling snow seemed to muffle their voices and 
there was not even an echo in answer.
    
    "How perfectly dreadful!" said Susan as they at last came back in despair. "Oh, how I 
wish we'd never come."
    
    "What on earth are we to do, Mr Beaver?" said Peter.