“Now then， now then，” came the Cabby’s voice， a good firm， hardy voice. “Keep cool， everyone， that‘s what I say. No bones broken， anyone？ Good. Well， there’s something to be thankful for straight away， and more than anyone could expect after falling all that way. Now， if we‘ve fallen down some diggings.as it might be for a new station on the Underground.someone will come and get us out presently， see！ And if we’re dead.which I don‘t deny it might be. well， you got to remember that worse things ’appen at sea and a chap‘s got to die sometime. And there ain’t nothing to be afraid of if a chap‘s led a decent life. And if you ask me， I think the best thing we could do to pass the time would be sing a ’ymn.”
And he did. He struck up at once a harvest thanksgiving hymn， all about crops being “safely gathered in”. It was not very suitable to a place which felt as if nothing had ever grown there since the beginning of time， but it was the one he could remember best. He had a fine voice and the children joined in； it was very cheering. Uncle Andrew and the Witch did not join in.
Towards the end of the hymn Digory felt someone plucking at his elbow and from a general smell of brandy and cigars and good clothes he decided that it must be Uncle Andrew. Uncle Andrew was cautiously pulling him away from the others. When they had gone a little distance， the old man put his mouth so close to Digory‘s ear that it tickled， and whispered：
“Now， my boy. Slip on your ring. Let’s be off.”
But the Witch had very good ears. “Fool！” came her voice and she leapt off the horse. “Have you forgotten that I can hear men‘s thoughts？ Let go the boy. If you attempt treachery I will take such vengeance upon you as never was heard of in all worlds from the beginning.”
“And，” added Digory， “if you think I’m such a mean pig as to go off and leave Polly.and the Cabby.and the horse.in a place like this， you‘re well mistaken.”
“You are a very naughty and impertinent little boy，” said Uncle Andrew.
“Hush！” said the Cabby. They all listened.
In the darkness something was happening at last. A voice had begun to sing. It was very far away and Digory found it hard to decide from what direction it was coming. Sometimes it seemed to come from all directions at once. Sometimes he almost thought it was coming out of the earth beneath them. Its lower notes were deep enough to be the voice of the earth herself. There were no words. There was hardly even a tune. But it was， beyond comparison， the most beautiful noise he had ever heard. It was so beautiful he could hardly bear it. The horse seemed to like it too； he gave the sort of whinney a horse would give if， after years of being a cab.horse， it found itself back in the old field where it had played as a foal， and saw someone whom it remembered and loved coming across the field to bring it a lump of sugar.
“Gawd！” said the Cabby. “Ain’t it lovely？”
Then two wonders happened at the same moment. One was that the voice was suddenly joined by the other voices； more voices than you could possibly count. They were in harmony with it， but far higher up the scale： cold， tingling， silvery voices. The second wonder was that the blackness overhead， all at once， was blazing with stars. They didn‘t come out gently one by one， as they do on a summer evening. One moment there had been nothing but darkness； next moment a thousand， thousand points of light leapt out.single stars， constellations， and planets， brighter and bigger than any in our world. There were no clouds. The new stars and the new voices began at
exactly the same time. If you had seen and heard it， as Digory did， you would have felt quite certain that it was the stars themselves which were singing， and that it was the First Voice， the deep one， which had made them appear and made them sing.
“Glory be！” said the Cabby. “I’d ha‘ been a better man all my life if I’d known there were things like this.”
The Voice on the earth was now louder and more triumphant； but the voices in the sky， after singing loudly with it for a time， began to get fainter. And now something else was happening.
Far away， and down near the horizon， the sky began to turn grey. A light wind， very fresh， began to stir. The sky， in that one place， grew slowly and steadily paler. You could see shapes of hills standing up dark against it. All the time the Voice went on singing.
There was soon light enough for them to see one another‘s faces. The Cabby and the two children had open mouths and shining eyes； they were drinking in the sound， and they looked as if it reminded them of something. Uncle Andrew’s mouth was open too， but not open with joy. He looked more as if his chin had simply dropped away from the rest of his face. His shoulders were stopped and his knees shook. He was not liking the Voice. If he could have got away from it by creeping into a rat‘s hole， he would have done so. But the Witch looked as if， in a way， she understood the music better than any of them. Her mouth was shut， her lips were pressed together， and her fists were clenched. Ever since the song began she had felt that this whole world was filled with a Magic different from hers and stronger. She hated it. She would have smashed that whole world， or all worlds， to pieces， if it would only stop the singing. The horse stood with its ears well forward， and twitching. Every now and then it snorted and stamped the ground. It no longer looked like a tired old cab.horse； you
could now well believe that its father had been in battles.
The eastern sky changed from white to pink and from pink to gold. The Voice rose and rose， till all the air was shaking with it. And just as it swelled to the mightiest and most glorious sound it had yet produced， the sun arose.
