Everyone now came close and saw that what sat in those three chairs was three men， though hard to recognize as men till you looked closely. Their hair， which was grey， had grown over their eyes till it almost concealed their， faces， and their beards had grown over the table， climbing pound and entwining plates and goblets as brambles； entwine a fence， until， all mixed in one great mat of hair， they flowed over the edge and down to the floor. And from their heads the hair hung over the backs of their chairs so that they were wholly hidden. In fact the three men were； nearly all hair.
“Dead？” said Caspian.
“I think not， Sire，” said Reepicheep， lifting one of their hands out of its tangle of hair in his two paws. “This one is warm and his pulse beats.”
“This one， too， and this，” said Drinian. “Why， they’re only asleep，” said Eustace.
“It‘s been a long sleep， though，” said Edmund， “to let their hair grow like this.”
