Chapter 23

"Mrs. Lefay: Guilty on charges of vandalism, disturbing the peace, violence, and mental instability. Sentence, seven years!"
The judge dropped his gavel, and it was final. With a last pitiful glance at Andrew, Mrs. Lefay allowed the bailiff to lead her away.
Andrew sulked all that day, and would have remained thus for all seven years, but his parents sent him away to boarding school. He would have forgotten the crazy old woman, but it happened that he was home for a holiday when they released her. Andrew, now grown to a young man of nineteen years, departed to see his old friend straight away.
He knew the moment he entered her old room at the Burgundy Place: she was dying. How weak and haggard she looked against the pillow! She made neither movement nor sound as Andrew meekly approached her bedside and laid the ring before her on the coverlet.
The instant she saw it, her eyes gleamed. "Can this then be the hour of my release?" she breathed. Mrs. Lefay seized the ring triumphantly. "You wonderful boy!" she cried, "Now you will witness the truth about me!"
"What do you mean?" Andrew asked.
Mrs. Lefay smiled on him. "Look at me, Andrew. Do I seem as one of your fairies?"
Andrew shook his head, but then he caught her meaning. He stared at her in awe. "Truly, Mrs. Lefay?" he breathed.
The woman nodded. "Yes; this old mortal soul has fairy blood in her veins. Let that be a lesson to you, young man! The most ordinary humans may have fairy blood in them, anyone from a charwoman to a duchess! I myself am among the last of that exquisite breed." And she sighed over the fate of her race.
"But Mrs. Lefay," Andrew gasped, "why do you tell me this now?"
Mrs. Lefay grew very sad again. "I am ill, Andrew; I expected to dies soon. But now that I have the ring . . ." she paused to gaze at it glittering in her palm.
"What will the ring do?"
The old fairy-woman frowned upon him as if she thought him a dull schoolboy asking silly questions. "It was by a ring I came here, and it is by a ring I shall go back."
The frown disappeared and she smiled at him again, "and because of your faithfulness to me, you, Andrew Richard Ketterley, shall have the honor of witnessing this great event!"
Andrew's eyes glowed at this prospect. Imperiously, Mrs. Lefay held up her hand in front of her face. "Behold my departure!" she cried, and slipped the ring on her finger.
Nothing happened, though boy and woman waited with bated breath. Disappointed, Mrs. Lefay handed the ring back to Andrew. "Oh dear, it's only a common ring, nothing magic about it at all! That won't do. Please be so kind as to return it for me, Andrew."
Andrew was puzzled. "You mean, the ring does not belong to you? Where did you get it?"
When she told him the name of the jewelry store, he cried in alarm, "Why, you did not steal it, did you, Mrs. Lefay?"
"Of course not! I had every intention of putting it to good use! If I wasn't so ill, I'd return it myself."
Because of their relationship, Andrew was loath to think badly of Mrs. Lefay, so he did not notice her deliberate dodge of his question. He accepted the ring from her hand. "But how am I to return the ring without being seen?"
Mrs. Lefay got a queer glint in her eye. "For a long time, we have talked about magic, haven't we, Andrew?"
The young man nodded.
"And you remember all I have told you about making sure that you remain in control over it, and use it to your advantage, but not for evil purposes, don't you?"
He nodded again.
"Well, since you do, I think you are ready to know some real magic."
He looked up and grinned craftily. "Really, Mrs. Lefay?"
She nodded. "When you reach the store, say these words, and no one in there will even notice you at all."
She gave him certain words to speak (but I shall not print them), and he departed.
It did not occur to her until late that evening what she had done. She recalled Aslan's prophecy as clearly as if he were in the room, repeating it to her: "Your offspring will learn of your magic, and by that knowledge a great Evil will come to Narnia."
Every memory she had of her Narnian life came rushing back in one awful knell.
"No!" Mrs. Lefay screeched, "Curse you, Aslan! Curse your prophecies!"
Long ago, Patricia asked Mrs. Lefay to be Andrew's godmother. She realized now what Aslan knew then: one is not solely responsible for physical offspring, but spiritual as well. She had played right into Aslan's paws by teaching him magic, and now she had somehow betrayed her homeland.
Her wretchedness knew no bounds, for guilt does not like exposure. Light exposes dark deeds, and thus Mrs. Lefay shunned the light. She drew the curtains around her bed, and she refused to speak with anyone besides Andrew. Even then, most days she was so wrought with guilt that she would not talk at all, but writhed upon her bed, moaning as if she were already experiencing the eternal punishment she knew she deserved.
After seven days of this behavior, Andrew opened the door on his customary visit. He had no sooner set foot over the threshold of the room than Mrs. Lefay's hollow voice commanded regally, "Draw the curtain, Andrew."
As he approached the bed, Andrew could already hear her wheezy, labored breathing. Andrew pulled the cord that drew back the curtains.
Mrs. Lefay's skin was so thin and pale it was nearly translucent. Her eyes seemed sunk into their sockets. "Andrew," she croaked, "I am dying; but before I go, grant me a boon!"
She pointed a bony, white finger to the edge of the room. "In that bureau, in the top drawer on the left, there is another secret drawer behind it. Bring me what you find there."
Mystified, Andrew complied with the old woman's instructions. In the secret drawer, he found a chest, carven all over with strange, ancient runes.
Mrs. Lefay eyed the box warily.
"Listen carefully, Andrew. Your trust of me is vital and valuable. You must do exactly as I say, or face terrible consequences. Do not, under any circumstances, open the box! Tomorrow night, under the full moon, make a circle of white stones under the oak tree in my garden. Within the circle place the unopened box. Then, dear Andrew, you are to burn it so the whole thing becomes absolutely ashes, and bury the ashes within the circle. Do you understand these instructions?"
It was all very chilling to Andrew that she should be so specific, but he did not show it.
"Yes, I understand, Mrs. Lefay."
She shook her head. "I have done you wrong by teaching you magic, my boy. I hope you will never have the occasion or the appetite for it in your life. Promise me you will not open the box."
"I promise, Mrs. Lefay."
Mrs. Lefay's breath was more labored, and her voice was fainter as she said, "Promise me you will do everything as I have told you."
"I promise."
Mrs., Lefay heaved a sigh.

"Good lad; Now . . . I can die . . . in . . . peace. You . . . may go . . ."

Andrew pulled the curtain closed again and left with the strange box tucked under his arm.

Mrs. Lefay died the next afternoon, full of remorse and screaming in agony.

Though he had promised Mrs. Lefay all she asked, having to wait all that second day proved too much for Andrew. The more he thought about it, the more he developed a fascination for the origins of the box, and by the time night fell, and the full moon came out, he had quite convinced himself that he should keep it for further study.

"After all, she is dead; ehh, she was a bit crazy, too. I just want to look at it, to study it. I'll keep my other promise, and I won't open it . . . yet."

Of course, once we break one promise, the next one is easier to break. Andrew eventually opened the box and looked inside, but the tale of Andrew and the box is already written in another book, so I needn't repeat another's work.

By and by, Thomas and Patricia died, and it was only Letitia, Andrew, and Mabel living in at the house. Mabel grew into a beautiful young woman, and chanced to meet a man by the name of Robert Kirke.

Mr. and Mrs. Kirke moved to a big house in the country, and Mrs. Kirke soon had a son, whom she named Digory. When this lad was quite young, Mr. Kirke was called away to India on business, and Mabel moved back to the city to live with her brother and sister. She soon fell very ill and had to be confined to bed. Digory spent most of his years in that little house in London. What adventures he had with another little girl are also in another story, so if you are at all concerned about him you can read the other book.

As for this particular book, it happens to be about a girl whom we have left in Telmar. Let us return thence now and see how she is getting on.

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