Then suddenly Lucy jumped up.
'I know,' she cried, 'oh--I really _do_ know.

And it won't hurt them either.

I don't a bit mind killing things, but I do hate hurting them.
There's plenty of rope, I know.' There was.
'Then when it's dawn we'll tie them up and then you'll see.' 'I think you might tell _me_,' said Philip, injured.
'No--they may understand what we say.

Polly does.' Philip made a natural suggestion.

But Lucy replied that it was not manners to whisper, and the parrot said that it should think not indeed.
So, sitting by the fire, all faces turned to where those strange twin stars shone and those strange hidden movements and rustlings stirred, the expedition waited for the dawn.