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saidTirianamanyyardsawaygraybattlemehetree-tops，ae&#theycameoutinanopengrassyspace.Astreamranacrossitandonthefarsideofthestreamstoodasquat，squaretowerwithveryfewandnarrosandoneheavy-lookingdoorihatfacedthe
Tirianlookedsharplythiswayandthattomakesurethatnoenemieswereinsight.Thehetowerandstoodstillforamomentfishinguphisbunchofkeyswhichheworeiing-dressonanarrowsilverthatwentrouwasanichofkeysthathebroughtout，foldenandmanywereriented:youcouldseeatoheywerekeysmadefsolemroomsinpalaces，ordcasketsofsweet-smellingwoodthatedroyaltreasures.Butthekeywhiowputintothelockofthedandplainandmorerudelymade.Thelockwasstiffandforamahathewouldoturnit:butatlasthedidandthedopenwithasullencreak.
“Welefriends，”
saidTiriahisisthebestpalacethattheKingofNarniauests.”
Tiriaoseethatthetwershadbeenwellbroughtup.Theybothsaidandthattheyweresureitwouldbeverynice.
Asamatteroffactitartiice.Itwasratherdarkandsmelledverydamp.Therewasonlyoneroominitandthisrhtuptothestoneroof:awoodenstaireerleduptoatrapdoorbywhichyoucouldgetoutolements.Therewereafewrudebunkstosleepin，amanylodbuherewasalsoahearthwhichlookedasifnobodyhadlitafireinitfreatmanyyears.
“We'dbettergooutandgathersomefirew，hadn'twe?”
saidJill.
“，rade，”
saidTiriaermiheyshouldunarmed，andbegahelockers，thankfullyrememberingthathehadalwaysbeeohavethesegarrisontowersiedoomakesurethattheywerestockedwithallthihebswerethereintheirgsofoiledsilk，thesearsweregreasedagainstrust，andthearmortbrightinitsings.Buttherewassomethier.“Lookyou!”
saidTiriaalongmailshirtofacuriouspatternabeforethe'seyes.
“That'sfunny-lookingmail，Sire，”
saidEustace.
“Aye，lad，”
saidTirian.“NoNarnianDwarfsmithiedthat.'Tismailofen，outlandishgear.Ihaveeverkeptafewsuitsofitinreadiness，forIneverknewwhenIhthavereasontowalkuheTisroc'sland.Andlookonthisstohisthereisajuiceehaverubbeditonourhandsandfaces，willmakeusbrownasenes.”
“Ohhurrah!”
saidJill.“Disguise!Ilovedisguises.”
Tiriahemhowtopouroutalittleofthejuisoftheirhandsawellovertheirfaecks，rightdowntotheshoulders，aheirhands，rightuptotheelbows.Hedidthesamehimself.
&hishashardenedonus，”
hesaid，“ateranditwillhingbutoilandasheswillmakeuswhiteNarniansagain.AndJill，letusgoseehowthismailshirtbeesyou.'TissomethingtoolosomuchasIfeared.DoubtlessitbelooapageiraiheirTarkaans.”
&hemailshirtstheyputos，whicharelittlerouingtighttotheheadandhaviop.ThenTiriantooklongrollsofsomewhitestuffoutofthelodwouhehelmetstilltheybecameturbans:butthelittlesteelspikestillstuthemiddle.HeaookcurvedeneswordsandlittlerouherewasnhtenoughforJill，buthegaveheralhthuntingknifewhichmightdoforasinch.
“Hastanyskillwiththebow，maiden?”
saidTirian.
“Nothingworthtalkingof，”
saidJill，blushing.“Scrubb'snotbad.”
“Don'tyoubelieveher，Sire，”
saidEustace.“We'vebothbeenpragarcheryeversibaNarnialasttime，andshe'saboutasgoodasmenow.herofusismuch.”
&iriangaveJillabowandaquiverfullofarrows.Thebusiolightafire，forioweritstillfeltmorelikealikeanythingindoorsa.Buttheygatheringwood—thesunwasnowatitshighest—aheblazetheeytheplatolookcheerful.Dinnerwas，however，adullmeal，forthebesttheycoulddoouhehardbiscuitwhichtheyfoundinalodpouritintoboilihsalt，soastomakeakinde.Andofcoursetherewasnothingtodrinkbut>
“Iwishwe&#htapacketoftea，”
saidJill.
“Oratinofcocoa，”
saidEustace.
“Afirkinoodwihesetowerswouldnothavebeenamiss，”
saidTirian.
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