“There’s no good losing our tempers，” said Peter. “Let‘s fit him out with fresh armour and fit ourselves out from the treasure chamber， and have a talk after that.”
“I don’t quite see the point.” began Edmund， but Lucy whispered in his ear， “Hadn‘t we better do what Peter says？ He is the High King， you know. And I think he has an idea.” So Edmund agreed and by the aid of his torch they all， including Trumpkin， went down the steps again into the dark coldness and dusty splendour of the treasure house.
