UNCLE ANDREW and his study vanished instantly. Then, for a moment, everything became 
muddled. The next thing Digory knew was that there was a soft green light coming down on 
him from above, and darkness below. He didn't seem to be standing on anything, or 
sitting, or lying. Nothing appeared to be touching him. "I believe I'm in water," said 
Digory. "Or under water." This frightened him for a second, but almost at once he could 
feel that he was rushing upwards. Then his head suddenly came out into the air and, he 
found himself scrambling ashore, out on to smooth grassy ground at the edge of a pool.
    
    As he rose to his feet he noticed that he was neither dripping nor panting for breath 
as anyone would expect after being under water. His clothes were perfectly dry. He was 
standing by the edge of a small pool-not more than ten feet from side to side in a wood. 
The trees grew close together and were so leafy that he could get no glimpse of the sky. 
All the light was green light that came through the leaves: but there must have been a 
very strong sun overhead, for this green daylight was bright and warm. It was the 
quietest wood you could possibly imagine. There were no birds, no insects, no animals, 
and no wind. You could almost feel the trees growing. The pool he had just got out of was 
not the only pool. There were dozens of others-a pool every few yards as far as his eyes 
could reach. You could almost feel the trees drinking the water up with their roots. This 
wood was very much alive. When he tried to describe it afterwards
    
    Digory always said, "It was a rich place: as rich as plumcake."
    
    The strangest thing was that, almost before he had looked about him, Digory had half 
forgotten how he had come there. At any rate, he was certainly not thinking about Polly, 
or Uncle Andrew, or even his Mother. He was not in the least frightened, or excited, or 
curious. If anyone had asked him "Where did you come from?" he would probably have said, 
"I've always been here." That was what it felt like-as if one had always been in that 
place and never been bored although nothing had ever happened. As he said long 
afterwards, "It's not the sort of place where things happen. The trees go on growing, 
that's all."
    
    After Digory had looked at the wood for a long time he noticed that there was a girl 
lying on her back at the foot of a tree a few yards away. Her eyes were nearly shut but 
not quite, as if she were just between sleeping and waking. So he looked at her for a 
long time and said nothing. And at last she opened her eyes and looked at him for a long 
time and she also said nothing. Then she spoke, in a dreamy, contented sort of voice.
    
    "I think I've seen you before," she said.
    
    "I rather think so too," said Digory. "Have you been here long?"
    
    "Oh, always," said the girl. "At least-I don't know a very long time."
    
    "So have I," said Digory.
    
    "No you haven't, said she. "I've just seen you come up out of that pool."
    
    "Yes, I suppose I did," said Digory with a puzzled air, "I'd forgotten."
    
    Then for quite a long time neither said any more.
    
    "Look here," said the girl presently, "I wonder did we ever really meet before? I had 
a sort of idea-a sort of picture in my head-of a boy and a girl, like us-living somewhere 
quite different-and doing all sorts of things. Perhaps it was only a dream."
    
    "I've had that same dream, I think," said Digory. "About a boy and a girl, living 
next door-and something about crawling among rafters. I remember the girl had a dirty 
face."
    
    "Aren't you getting it mixed? In my dream it was the boy who had the dirty face."
    
    "I can't remember the boy's face," said Digory: and then added, "Hullo! What's that?"
    
    "Why! it's a guinea-pig," said the girl. And it was-a fat guinea-pig, nosing about in 
the grass. But round the middle of the guinea-pig there ran a tape, and, tied on to it by 
the tape, was a bright yellow ring.
    
    "Look! look," cried Digory, "The ring! And look! You've got one on your finger. And 
so have I."
    
    The girl now sat up, really interested at last. They stared very hard at one another, 
trying to remember. And then, at exactly the same moment, she shouted out "Mr Ketterley" 
and he shouted out "Uncle Andrew", and they knew who they were and began to remember the 
whole story. After a few minutes hard talking they had got it straight. Digory explained 
how beastly Uncle Andrew had been.
    
    "What do we do now?" said Polly. "Take the guineapig and go home?"
    
    "There's no hurry," said Digory with a huge yawn.
    
    "I think there is," said Polly. "This place is too quiet. It's so-so dreamy. You're 
almost asleep. If we once give in to it we shall just lie down and drowse for ever and 
ever."
    
    "It's very nice here," said Digory.
    
    "Yes, it is," said Polly.
    
    "But we've got to get back." She stood up and began to go cautiously towards the 
guinea-pig. But then she changed her mind.
    
    "We might as well leave the guinea-pig," she said. "It's perfectly happy here, and 
your uncle will only do something horrid to it if we take it home."
    
    "I bet he would," answered Digory. "Look at the way he's treated us. By the way, how 
do we get home?"
    
    "Go back into the pool, I expect."