XXII. When The Sun Went Down

           WhenhisheadwasoutofsightColinturnedtoMary.

           “Goandmeethim,”hesaid;andMaryflewacrossthegrasstothedoorundertheivy.

           Dickonwaswatchinghimwithsharpeyes.Therewerescarletspotsonhischeeksandhelookedamazing,butheshowednosignsoffalling.

           “Icanstand,”hesaid,andhisheadwasstillheldupandhesaiditquitegrandly.

           “Itoldtheetha’couldassoonastha’stoppedbein’afraid,”answeredDickon.“An’tha’sstopped.”

           “Yes,I’vestopped,”saidColin.

           ThensuddenlyherememberedsomethingMaryhadsaid.

           “AreyoumakingMagic?”heaskedsharply.

           Dickon’scurlymouthspreadinacheerfulgrin.

           “Tha’sdoin’Magicthysel’,”hesaid.“It’ssameMagicasmadethese’ereworkouto’th’earth,”andhetouchedwithhisthickbootaclumpofcrocusesinthegrass.

           Colinlookeddownatthem.

           “Aye,”hesaidslowly,“therecouldna’bebiggerMagicthanthatthere—therecouldna’be.”

           Hedrewhimselfupstraighterthanever.

           “I’mgoingtowalktothattree,”hesaid,pointingtooneafewfeetawayfromhim.“I’mgoingtobestandingwhenWeatherstaffcomeshere.IcanrestagainstthetreeifIlike.WhenIwanttositdownIwillsitdown,butnotbefore.Bringarugfromthechair.”

           HewalkedtothetreeandthoughDickonheldhisarmhewaswonderfullysteady.Whenhestoodagainstthetreetrunkitwasnottooplainthathesupportedhimselfagainstit,andhestillheldhimselfsostraightthathelookedtall.