separation from my
husband.'

But the Lion-Witch merely laughed at her, bidding her dry her tears, if
she would be wise, and do her part to please her. Otherwise, she
declared, her lot would be the most miserable in the world.

'And what must I do to soften your heart?' replied the queen.

'I have a liking for fly-pasties,' said the Lion-Witch; 'and you must
contrive to catch flies enough to make me a large and tasty one.'

[Illustration: '_The approach to it was by ten thousand steps_']

'But there are no flies here,' rejoined the queen; 'and even if there
were there is not enough light to catch them by. Moreover, supposing I
caught some, I have never in my life made pastry. You are therefore
giving me orders which I cannot possibly carry out.'

'No matter,' said the pitiless Lion-Witch; 'what I want I will have!'

The queen made no reply, but reflected that, no matter how cruel the
Witch might be, she had only one life to lose, and in her present plight
what terror could death hold for her? She did not attempt to look for
flies, therefore, but sat down beneath a yew tree, and gave way to tears
and lamentations. 'Alas, dear husband,' she cried, 'how grieved you will
be when you go to fetch me from the castle, and find me gone! You will
suppose me to be dead or faithless; how I hope that you will mourn the
loss of my life, not the loss of my love! Perhaps the remains of my
chariot will be found in the wood, with all the ornaments I had put on
to please you: at sight of these you will not doubt any more that I am
dead. But then, how do I know that you will not bestow on some one else
the heartfelt love which once belonged to me? At all events I shall be
spared the sorrow of that knowledge, since I am never to return to the
world.'

These thoughts would have filled her mind for a long time, but she was
interrupted by the dismal croaking of a raven overhead. Lifting her
eyes, she saw in the dim light a large raven on the point of swallowing
a frog which it held in its beak. 'Though I have no hope of help for
myself,' she said, 'I will not let this unfortunate frog die, if I can
save it; though our lots are so different, its sufferings are quite as
great as mine.' She picked up the first stick which came to hand, and
made the raven let go its prey. The frog fell to the ground and lay for
a time half stunned; but as soon as it could think, in its froggish way,
it began to speak. 'Beautiful queen,' it said, 'you are t