“Hoofs， Sire，” said Jewel. “A galloping horse. A very heavy horse. It must be one of the Centaurs. And look， there he is.” A great， golden bearded Centaur， with man’s sweat on his forehead and horse‘s sweat on his chestnut flanks， dashed up to the King， stopped， and bowed low. “Hail， King，” itcried in a voice as deep as a bull’s.
“Ho， there！” said the King， looking over his shoulder towards the door of the hunting lodge. “A bowl of wine for the noble Centaur. Welcome， Roonwit. When you have found your breath you shall tell us your errand.”
A page came out of the house carrying a great wooden bowl， curiously carved， and handed it to the Centaur. The Centaur raised the bowl and said，“I drink first to Aslan and truth， Sire， and secondly to your Majesty.”
He finished the wine （enough for six strong men） at onedraught and handed the empty bowl back to the page. “Now， Roonwit，” said the King. “Do you bring us morenews of Aslan？”
Roonwit looked very grave， frowning a little.
