“That ought to do，” said Peter， drawing a deep breath. “And now we must send two others with King Edmund. I think the Giant ought to be one.”
“He’s.he‘s not very clever， you know，” said Caspian.
“Of course not，” said Peter. “But any giant looksimpressive if only he will keep quiet. And it will cheer him up. But who for the other？”
“Upon my word，” said Trumpkin， “if you want someone who can kill with looks， Reepicheep would be the best.”
“He would indeed， from all I hear，” said Peter with a laugh. “If only he wasn’t so small. They wouldn‘t even see him till he was close！”
“Send Glenstorm， Sire，” said Trufflehunter. “No one everlaughed at a Centaur.”
An hour later two great lords in the army of Miraz， the Lord Glozelle and the Lord Sopespian， strolling along their lines and picking their teeth after breakfast， looked up and saw coming down to them from the wood the Centaur and Giant Wimbleweather， whom they had seen before in battle， and between them a figure they could not recognize. Nor indeed would the other boys at Edmund’s school have recognized him if they could have seen him at that moment. For Aslan had breathed on him at their meeting and a kind of greatness hung about him.
