When they got down to the shore that looked towards Doorn they found a little village and a longboat on the beach and, lying a little further out, a dirty, bedraggled-looking ship.

      “Now, youngsters,” said the slave dealer, “let’s have no fuss and then you’ll have nothing to cry about. All aboard.”

      At that moment a fine-looking bearded man came out of one of the houses (an inn, I think) and said:

      “Well, Pug. More of your usual wares?”

      The slaver, whose name seemed to be Pug, bowed very low, and said in a wheedling kind of voice, “Yes, if it please your Lordship.”

      “How much do you want for that boy?” asked the other, pointing to Caspian.

      “Ah,” said Pug, “I knew your Lordship would pick on the best. No deceiving your Lordship with anything second-rate. That boy, now, I’ve taken a fancy to him myself. Got kind of fond of him, I have. I’m that tender-hearted I didn’t ever ought to have taken up this job. Still, to a customer like your Lordship—”

      “Tell me your price, carrion,” said the Lord sternly. “Do you think I want to listen to the rigmarole of your filthy trade?”

      “Three hundred crescents, my Lord, to your honourable Lordship, but to anyone else—”

      “I’ll give you a hundred and fifty.”

      “Oh, please, please,” broke in Lucy. “Don’t separate us, whatever you do. You don’t know—” But then she stopped for she saw that Caspian didn’t even now want to be known.

      “A hundred and fifty, then,” said the Lord. “As for you, little maiden, I am sorry I cannot buy you all. Unrope my boy, Pug. And look – treat these others well while they are in your hands or it’ll be the worse for you.”

      “Well!” said Pug. “Now who ever heard of a gentleman in my way of business who treated his stock better than what I do? Well? Why, I treat ’em like my own children.”

      “That’s likely enough to be true,” said the other grimly.

      The dreadful moment had now come. Caspian was untied and his new master said, “This way, lad,” and Lucy burst into tears and Edmund looked very blank. But Caspian looked over his shoulder and said, “Cheer up. I’m sure it will come all right in the end. So long.”

      “Now, missie,” said Pug. “Don’t you start taking on and spoiling your looks for the market tomorrow. You be a good girl and then you won’t have nothing to cry about, see?”

      Then they were rowed out to the slave-ship and taken below into a long, rather dark place, none too clean, where they found many other unfortunate prisoners; for Pug was of course a pirate and had just returned from cruising among the islands and capturing what he could. The children didn’t meet anyone whom they knew; the prisoners were mostly Galmians and Terebinthians. And there they sat in the straw and wondered what was happening to Caspian, and tried to stop Eustace talking as if everyone except himself was to blame.

      Meanwhile Caspian was having a much more interesting time. The man who had bought him led him down a little lane between two of the village houses and so out into an open place behind the village. Then he turned and faced him.

      “You needn’t be afraid of me, boy,” he said. “I’ll treat you well. I bought you for your face. You reminded me of someone.”

      “May I ask of whom, my Lord?” said Caspian.

      “You remind me of my master, King Caspian of Narnia.”

      Then Caspian decided to risk everything on one stroke.

      “My Lord,” he said, “I am your master. I am Caspian, King of Narnia.”

      “You make very free,” said the other. “How shall I know this is true?”

      “Firstly by my face,” said Caspian. “Secondly because I know within six guesses who you are. You are one of those seven lords of Narnia whom my Uncle Miraz sent to sea and whom I have come out to look for – Argoz, Bern, Octesian, Restimar, Mavramorn, or – or – I have forgotten the others. And finally, if your Lordship will give me a sword I will prove on any man’s body in clean battle that I am Caspian, the son of Caspian, lawful King of Narnia, Lord of Cair Paravel, and Emperor of the Lone Islands.”

      “By heaven,” exclaimed the man, “it is his father’s very voice and trick of speech. My liege – your Majesty—” And there in the field he knelt and kissed the King’s hand.

      “The moneys your Lordship disbursed for our person will be made good from our own treasury,” said Caspian.

      “They’re not in Pug’s purse yet, Sire,” said the Lord Bern, for he it was. “And never will be, I trust. I have moved his Sufficiency the Governor a hundred times to crush this vile traffic in man’s flesh.”

      “My Lord Bern,” said Caspian, “we must talk of the state of these Islands. But first, what is your Lordship’s own story?”

      “Short enough, Sire,” said Bern. “I came thus far with my six fellows, loved a girl of the islands, and felt I had had enough of the sea. And there was no purpose in returning to Narnia while your Majesty’s uncle held the reins. So I married and have lived here ever since.”

      “And what is this Governor, this Gumpas, like? Does he still acknowledge the King of Narnia for his lord?”

      “In words, yes. All is done in the King’s name. But he would not be best pleased to find a real, live King of Narnia coming in upon him. And if your Majesty came before him alone and unarmed – well, he would not deny his allegiance, but he would pretend to disbelieve you. Your Grace’s life would be in danger. What following has your Majesty in these waters?”

      “There is my ship just rounding the point,” said Caspian. “We are about thirty swords if it came to fighting. Shall we not have my ship in and fall upon Pug and free my friends whom he holds captive?”

      “Not by my counsel,” said Bern. “As soon as there was a fight, two or three ships would put out from Narrowhaven to rescue Pug. Your Majesty must work by a show of more power than you really have, and by the terror of the King’s name. It must not come to plain battle. Gumpas is a chicken-hearted man and can be overawed.”