Don't come an inch nearer."
    
    "Foolish boy," said the Witch. "Why do you run from me? I mean you no harm. If you do 
not stop and listen to me now, you will miss some knowledge that would have made you 
happy all your life."
    
    "Well I don't want to hear it, thanks," said Digory. But he did.
    
    "I know what errand you have come on," continued the Witch. "For it was I who was 
close beside you in the woods last night and heard all your counsels. You have plucked 
fruit in the garden yonder. You have it in your pocket now. And you are going to carry it 
back, untasted, to the Lion; for him to eat, for him to use. You simpleton! Do you know 
what that fruit is? I will tell you. It is the apple of youth, the apple of life. I know, 
for I have tasted it; and I feel already such changes in myself that I know I shall never 
grow old or die. Eat it, Boy, eat it; and you and I will both live forever and be king 
and queen of this whole world-or of your world, if we decide to go back there."
    
    "No thanks," said Digory, "I don't know that I care much about living on and on after 
everyone I know is dead. I'd rather live an ordinary time and die and go to Heaven."
    
    "But what about this Mother of yours whom you pretend to love so?"
    
    "What's she got to do with it?" said Digory.
    
    "Do you not see, Fool, that one bite of that apple would heal her? You have it in 
your pocket. We are here by ourselves and the Lion is far away. Use your Magic and go 
back to your own world. A minute later you can be at your Mother's bedside, giving her 
the fruit. Five minutes later you will see the colour coming back to her face. She will 
tell you the pain is gone. Soon she will tell you she feels stronger. Then she will fall 
asleep-think of that; hours of sweet natural sleep, without pain, without drugs. Next day 
everyone will be saying how wonderfully she has recovered. Soon she will be quite well 
again. All will be well again. Your home will be happy again. You will be like other 
boys."
    
    "Oh!" gasped Digory as if he had been hurt, and put his hand to his head. For he now 
knew that the most terrible choice lay before him.
    
    "What has the Lion ever done for you that you should be his slave?" said the Witch. 
"What can he do to you once you are back in your own world? And what would your Mother 
think if she knew that you could have taken her pain away and given her back her life and 
saved your Father's heart from being broken, and that you wouldn't-that you'd rather run 
messages for a wild animal in a strange world that is no business of yours?"
    
    "I-I don't think he is a wild animal," said Digory in a dried-up sort of voice. "He 
is-I don't know-"
    
    "Then he is something worse," said the Witch. "Look what he has done to you already; 
look how heartless he has made you. That is what he does to everyone who listens to him. 
Cruel, pitiless boy! you would let your own Mother die rather than-"
    
    "Oh shut up," said the miserable Digory, still in the same voice. "Do you think I 
don't see? But I-I promised."
    
    "Ah, but you didn't know what you were promising. And no one here can prevent you."
    
    "Mother herself," said Digory, getting the words out with difficulty, "wouldn't like 
it-awfully strict about keeping promises-and not stealing-and all that sort of thing. 
She'd tell me not to do it-quick as anything-if she was here."
    
    "But she need never know," said the Witch, speaking more sweetly than you would have 
thought anyone with so fierce a face could speak. "You wouldn't tell her how you'd got 
the apple. Your Father need never know. No one in your world need know anything about 
this whole story. You needn't take the little girl back with you, you know."
    
    That was where the Witch made her fatal mistake. Of course Digory knew that Polly 
could get away by her own ring as easily as he could get away by his. But apparently the 
Witch didn't know this. And the meanness of the suggestion that he should leave Polly 
behind suddenly made all the other things the Witch had been saying to him sound false 
and hollow. And even in the midst of all his misery, his head suddenly cleared, and he 
said (in a different and much louder' voice):
    
    "Look here; where do you come into all this? Why are you so precious fond of my 
Mother all of a sudden? What's it got to do with you? What's your game?"
    
    "Good for you, Digs," whispered Polly in his ear. "Quick! Get away now." She hadn't 
dared to say anything all through the argument because, you see, it wasn't her Mother who 
was dying.
    
    "Up then," said Digory, heaving her on to Fledge's back and then scrambling up as 
quickly as he could. The horse spread its wings.
    
    "Go then, Fools," called the Witch. "Think of me, Boy, when you lie old and weak and 
dying, and remember how you threw away the chance of endless youth! It won't be offered 
you again."
    
    They were already so high that they could only just hear her. Nor did the Witch waste 
any time gazing up at them; they saw her set off northward down the slope of the hill.
    
    They had started early that morning and what happened in the garden had not taken 
very long, so that Fledge and Polly both said they would easily get back to Narnia before 
nightfall. Digory never spoke on the way back, and the others were shy of speaking to 
him. He was very sad and he wasn't even sure all the time that he had done the right 
thing; but whenever he remembered the shining tears in Aslan's eyes he became sure.
    
    All day Fledge flew steadily with untiring wings; eastward with the river to guide 
him, through the mountains and over the wild wooded hills, and then over the great 
waterfall and down, and down, to where the woods of Narnia were darkened by the shadow of 
the mighty cliff, till at last, when the sky was growing red with sunset behind them, he 
saw a place where many creatures were gathered together by the riverside. And soon he 
could see Aslan himself in the midst of them. Fledge glided down, spread out his four