Таємничий сад
XXI. Ben Weatherstaff
“Yes,”answeredDickon,afterit,andhislowvoicehadaverygentlesound.
Marygazedatthetreeandthought.
“Thebranchesarequitegrayandthere’snotasingleleafanywhere,”Colinwenton.“It’squitedead,isn’tit?”
“Aye,”admittedDickon.“Butthemrosesashasclimbedalloveritwillnearhideeverybito’th’deadwoodwhenthey’refullo’leavesan’flowers.Itwon’tlookdeadthen.It’llbeth’prettiestofall.”
Marystillgazedatthetreeandthought.
“Itlooksasifabigbranchhadbeenbrokenoff,”saidColin.“Iwonderhowitwasdone.”
“It’sbeendonemanyayear,”answeredDickon.“Eh!”withasuddenrelievedstartandlayinghishandonColin.“Lookatthatrobin!Thereheis!He’sbeenforagin’forhismate.”
Colinwasalmosttoolatebuthejustcaughtsightofhim,theflashofred-breastedbirdwithsomethinginhisbeak.Hedartedthroughthegreennessandintotheclose-growncornerandwasoutofsight.Colinleanedbackonhiscushionagain,laughingalittle.
“He’stakingherteatoher.Perhapsit’sfiveo’clock.IthinkI’dlikesometeamyself.”
Andsotheyweresafe.
“ItwasMagicwhichsenttherobin,”saidMarysecretlytoDickonafterward.“IknowitwasMagic.”ForbothsheandDickonhadbeenafraidColinmightasksomethingaboutthetreewhosebranchhadbrokenofftenyearsagoandtheyhadtalkeditovertogetherandDickonhadstoodandrubbedhisheadinatroubledway.
“Wemunlookasifitwasn’tnodifferentfromth’othertrees,”hehadsaid.
