“Why？” asked the Horse. “I‘m a free Narnian. And why should I talk slaves’ and fools‘ talk？ I don’t want him to live for ever， and I know that he‘s not going to live for ever whether I want him to or not. And I can see you’re from the free North too. No more of this Southern jargon between you and me！ And now， back to our plans. As I said， my human was on his way North to Tashbaan.”
“Does that mean we‘d better go to the South？”
“I think not，” said the Horse. “You see， he thinks I’m dumb and witless like his other horses. Now if I really were， the moment I got loose I‘d go back home to my stable and paddock； back to his palace which is two days’ journey South. That‘s where he’ll look for me. He‘d never dream of my going on North on my own. And anyway he will probably think that someone in the last village who saw him ride through has followed us to here and stolen me.”
“Oh hurray！” said Shasta. “Then we’ll go North. I‘ve been longing to go to the North all my life.”
“Of course you have，” said the Horse. “That’s because of the blood that‘s in you. I’m sure you‘re true Northern stock. But not too loud. I should think they’d be asleep soon now.”
“I‘d better creep back and see，” suggested Shasta.
