Таємничий сад

           Shehadbeenlyingawaketurningfromsidetosideforaboutanhour,whensuddenlysomethingmadehersitupinbedandturnherheadtowardthedoorlistening.Shelistenedandshelistened.

           “Itisn’tthewindnow,”shesaidinaloudwhisper.“Thatisn’tthewind.Itisdifferent.ItisthatcryingIheardbefore.”

           Thedoorofherroomwasajarandthesoundcamedownthecorridor,afar-offfaintsoundoffretfulcrying.Shelistenedforafewminutesandeachminuteshebecamemoreandmoresure.Shefeltasifshemustfindoutwhatitwas.Itseemedevenstrangerthanthesecretgardenandtheburiedkey.Perhapsthefactthatshewasinarebelliousmoodmadeherbold.Sheputherfootoutofbedandstoodonthefloor.

           “Iamgoingtofindoutwhatitis,”shesaid.“EverybodyisinbedandIdon’tcareaboutMrs.Medlock—Idon’tcare!”

           Therewasacandlebyherbedsideandshetookitupandwentsoftlyoutoftheroom.Thecorridorlookedverylonganddark,butshewastooexcitedtomindthat.Shethoughtsherememberedthecornersshemustturntofindtheshortcorridorwiththedoorcoveredwithtapestry—theoneMrs.Medlockhadcomethroughthedayshelostherself.Thesoundhadcomeupthatpassage.Soshewentonwithherdimlight,almostfeelingherway,herheartbeatingsoloudthatshefanciedshecouldhearit.Thefar-offfaintcryingwentonandledher.Sometimesitstoppedforamomentorsoandthenbeganagain.Wasthistherightcornertoturn?Shestoppedandthought.Yesitwas.