Chapter 14 Chapter Fourteen

When morning came, the wilderness was hidden in mist, and the rain did not stop.Can't go out.Martha was so busy that Mary had no chance of speaking to her, but she called her to sit with her in the nursery in the afternoon.Here she came, with the socks she always knits when she has nothing to do. "What's the matter with you?" she asked as soon as they sat down. "You look like you have something to talk about." "I did. I found out what the crying was about," said Mary. Martha let her knitting fall to her knees and stared at her with startled eyes. "You won't!" she exclaimed, "Impossible!"

"I heard crying at night," went on Martha, "and got up to see where it was coming from. It was Colin. I found him." Martha's face turned red with horror. "Ah! Miss Mary!" she said, half-crying, "you shouldn't have done that--you shouldn't! You'd make me miserable. I never mentioned him to you--but you'd make me miserable. I I will lose my job, what should mother do!" "You won't lose your job," said Mary. "He's glad I'm here. We talk and talk, and he says he's glad I'm here." "Really?" cried Martha. "Are you sure? You don't know what he's like if you mess with him. He's a big lad and cries like a baby, but when he gets mad he screams." , specifically to scare us. He knows that we dare not let our own will."

"He wasn't offended," said Mary, "and I asked him if I should go away and he let me stay. He asked me questions and I sat on the footstool and told him about India, robins, Dickon .He refused to let me go. He showed me his mother's painting. Before I left, I sang to lull him to sleep." Martha held her breath in obvious surprise. "I can't believe you!" she protested. "It's like you walked straight into the lion's cage. If it was his normal course, he would have thrown a fit of rage and set the whole house up. He won't allow strangers to see him. "

"He allowed me to look at him. I kept looking at him and he looked at me. We stared!" Mary said. "I don't know what to do!" cried Martha, agitated. "If Mrs. Medlock finds out, she'll think I broke the rules and told you, and I'll be sent back to mother." "He won't tell Mrs. Medlock at all. It will be a secret at first," said Mary firmly, "and he says everyone must do as he likes." "Oh yes, that must be true—bad boy!" sighed Martha, mopping her forehead with her apron. "He said Mrs. Medlock had to be like that. He wanted me to talk to him every day. When he wanted to call me, you had to tell me."

"Me?!" said Martha, "I'm going to lose my job—I'm sure I will!" "You won't, if you do what he wants you to do, everyone will obey his orders," Mary argued. "Do you mean to say," cried Martha, her eyes widening, "that he was nice to you?!" "I think he's almost like me," answered Mary. "Then you must have bewitched him!" Martha took a deep breath. "You mean magic?" asked Mary. "I've heard magic in India, but I don't know it. I just went into his room, and I was surprised to see him, and I stood and stared. Then he turned and stared." He thought I was a ghost or a dream and I thought he was too. It was a miracle, being alone in the middle of the night and not knowing each other. We started asking each other questions. I asked him if I had to go and he said no."

"The end of the world is here!" Martha held her breath. "What's the matter with him?" Mary asked. "No one knows for sure," said Martha. "Mr. Craven was out of his mind when he was born. The doctors thought he was going to a madhouse. Because Mrs. Craven died, I told You. He didn't want to look at the kid. He just babbled and said it'd be another hunchback like him and better dead." "Is Colin a hunchback?" asked Mary. "He doesn't look like it." "He's not yet," said Martha, "but he's all wrong at the beginning. Mother says there's too much trouble and anger in the house, and any kid can make mistakes. They're worried about his weak back, and they've been taking good care of it—let's He lay down and wouldn't let him walk. Once they put him in a brace, but he was so mad that he got sick. Then a big doctor came to him and told them to take the brace off. He gave the other doctors a hard time A pause—in a polite manner. He said he was taking too much medicine, and went too far with him."

"I think he's a spoiled boy," Mary said. "Never had he been such a bad boy!" said Martha. "I'm not saying he wasn't very ill. Two or three times coughs and colds nearly killed him. He had a rheumatism and a typhoid. Ah! Mo! Mrs. DeLocker was really terrified that time. He was unconscious, and she was talking to the nurse, thinking he didn't know anything, and she said, 'He's going to die this time, it's best for him and everybody.' And she went Look at him, there he is, staring at her wide-eyed, as conscious as she is. She doesn't know what's going on, but he just stares at her and says, 'You give me water and shut up!'"

"Do you think he's going to die?" Mary asked. "Mum said how any kid would survive without fresh air and doing nothing but lying around reading picture books and taking medicine. He was weak and hated the hassle of carrying him out, he caught colds easily, Just say it and make him sick." Mary sat looking at the fire. "I doubt," she said slowly, "that it would do him any good to go out in the garden and see things grow. It will do me good." "His worst fit," said Martha, "was when they carried him out to the roses by the fountain. He read in an article that people had what he called 'rose chills,' and he started to sleep. Sneezed, said he was infected, and then a new gardener passed by, didn't know the rules, and looked at him curiously. He flew into a rage. He said the gardener looked at him because he was going to grow a hunchback. He cried himself Got a fever and was sick all night."

"If he loses his temper with me, I'll never see him again," said Mary. "He'll have you, if he wants you," said Martha, "and you probably knew it from the start, too." Soon the bell rang and she wrapped up her knitting. "I bet the nurse wanted me to stay with him for a while," she said. "I hope he's in a good mood." She left the room for about ten minutes, then returned with a puzzled expression. "Well, you've charmed him," she said, "and he's up, on the couch with the picture book. He told me the nurse would stay away until six. I'm going to the next room and wait. As soon as she was gone he called me over and said: 'I want Mary Lennox to come and talk to me, remember you can't tell anyone.' You better go as soon as possible."

Mary would love to go quickly.She did not want to see Colin as much as she wanted to see Dickon, but she wanted to see him very much. When she entered his room there was a great fire in the stove, and in the daylight she saw that it was indeed a beautiful room.The rugs, curtains, paintings and books on the walls are rich in colors that make the room bright and cozy despite the gray sky and rain.Colin looked like a painting.He was wrapped in a velvet dressing gown and sat against a large brocade pillow.He had a red spot on each cheek. "Come in," he said, "I've been thinking about you all morning."

"I was thinking of you too," answered Mary. "You don't know how frightened Martha was. She said Mrs. Medlock would think she told me about you, and then she would be sent away." He frowned. "Go get her," he said, "she's in the next room." Mary went and brought her.Poor Martha was shaking from head to toe.Colin was still frowning. "Do you have to do what pleases me?" he asked. "I must do what pleases you, sir." Martha faltered, her face turning red. "Must Medlock have to do what pleases me?" "Everyone must, sir," said Martha. "Well, then, if I order you to bring Miss Mary to me, how can Medlock send you away if she finds out?" "Please don't let her know, sir," begged Martha. "If she dares to say 'no' to the matter, I'll send her away," said Master Colin solemnly. "She doesn't want that, I can tell you." "Thank you, sir." Martha curtseyed quickly, "I was trying to do my duty." "Your duty is all I want," said Colin, more solemnly, "and I will watch over you. Now get out." The door closed behind Martha, and Colin found Miss Mary staring at him, as if he seemed incredible to her. "Why are you looking at me like that?" he asked her. "What were you thinking?" "I'm thinking about two things." "What's the matter? Sit down and tell me." "This is the first one," said Mary, sitting down on the big stool. "I saw a boy once in India, a prince. He was studded with rubies, emeralds, and diamonds. He spoke to his men. Just like you did with Martha. Everyone has to do whatever he says - immediately. I think they'll be beheaded if they don't." "I'll let you tell me about the Raja in a moment," he said, "but first tell me what the second thing is." "I was thinking," said Mary, "how different you are from Dickon." "Who's Dickon?" she said. "What a strange name!" She might as well tell him that she thought it would be possible to talk about Dickon and not the secret garden.She liked to hear Martha talk about Dickon.Besides, she was eager to talk about Deacon.It seemed to be closer to him. "He's Martha's brother. He's different from all the people in the world. He can charm foxes, squirrels, birds, as the Indians charm snakes. He plays a very soft note on his piccolo, and they all run Come and listen." There were some big books on the table on his side, and he suddenly dragged one over. "Here's a painting of a snake charmer," he said loudly, "Come and see." They were beautiful, with gorgeous color illustrations, and he turned to one of them. "Can he do that?" he asked eagerly. "He played on the flute and they listened," explained Mary, "but he didn't call it magic, he said he'd been around the fields long enough to know their ways. He said sometimes he felt like a bird Or rabbits, he likes them that much. I think he asks questions of the robins. It's like they chirp softly and talk to each other." Colin lay down on the pillow, his eyes getting bigger and bigger, and two fires on his cheeks. "Tell me about him again." He is. "He knew all about eggs and nests," continued Mary, "and he knew where foxes, otters, and badgers lived. He kept it a secret, so that the other boys could not find their holes and frighten them. He knew what grew on the moor Everything that lives and lives." "He likes the moor?" said Colin. "How could he like such a big, empty, gloomy place?" "It's the most beautiful place in the world," protested Mary, "with thousands of lovely things growing on it, and thousands of little animals busy building their nests, digging holes, jumping around each other, singing, Squeaking and screaming. They're very busy and having a lot of fun, underground, in the trees, in the heather. That's their world." "How do you know so much?" said Colin, looking up at her from his elbow. "I haven't been once, actually," Mary suddenly remembered, "I've only driven by in the dark. I find it terribly ugly. Martha told me first, and then Dickon. When Dickon talked about the moor, You feel like you’re seeing things and smelling them, like you’re standing in the heather and the sun is shining and the gorse smells like honey – there’s bees and butterflies everywhere.” "If you're sick you haven't seen anything," said Colin restlessly.He looked like a man listening to some strange sound in the distance, trying to figure out what it was. "If you stay in the house, you can't see it," said Mary. "I can't go out into the wilderness," he complained. Mary was silent for a moment, and then she said something bold. "You might—someday." He moved, as if startled. "Go into the wilderness! What shall I do? I shall die." "How do you know?" said Mary without sympathy.She didn't like the way he talked about death.She didn't feel much sympathy.Instead, she felt that he was almost showing off. "Oh, I've been hearing it for as long as I can remember," he replied grimly. "They're always whispering, thinking I don't notice. They want me dead too." Miss Mary felt very, very stubborn.She pursed her lips tightly. "If they want me dead," she said, "I won't. Who wants you dead?" "The servants—and Dr. Craven, of course, because he could get Misselwest Manor and get out of poverty. He didn't dare to say it, but he seemed cheerful every time I got sick. I'm rheumatic His face got so fat back then. I think my dad wants me dead too." "I don't believe he wants to," said Mary rather stubbornly. This made Colin turn and look at her again. "You don't believe it?" he said. Then he lay down on the pillow, motionless, as if thinking.There was a long silence.Maybe both of them were thinking strange things, things that lads don't usually think about. "I like the big doctor from London because he made them take the iron thing off," said Mary at last. "Did he say you'd die?" "No." "What did he say?" "He didn't whisper," replied Colin, "perhaps he knew I hated whispering. I heard him say one thing, very loudly. He said: 'If the boy made up his mind, he might Survive. Make him feel good.’ Sounds like he’s throwing a tantrum.” "I'll tell you who makes you feel better, maybe," Mary said thoughtfully.She felt as though she wanted the matter to go either way. "I'm sure Dickon can. He's always talking about the living things. He never talks about the dead things, or the sick things. He's always looking up at the birds--or down at the things growing on the ground. He Eyes so round and so blue, always wide open to look around. And he grinned so open when he laughed—and his face was—as red as a cherry." She drew the stool closer to the sofa, and the memory of the wide curved mouth and wide-open eyes changed her expression. "Look," she said, "let's not talk about death; I don't like it. Let's talk about life. Let's talk about Dickon. Then we'll come to your picture." It was the best thing she could possibly say.To talk about Dickon meant to talk about the moor, and the cottage, and fourteen people living in it, living on sixteen shillings a week, and the children being fattened like colts on the moor grass.And Dickon's mother--and the skipping-rope--and the sunlit moor--and the gray-green dots emerging from the black turf.Everything was so alive, Mary had never talked so much--and Colin had never talked and listened like this.They both started laughing for no reason, like children do when they are happy together.The way they laughed, and the way they ended up being so loud, it was as if they had become two normal, healthy, natural ten-year-olds—not a stiff, thin, unloving little girl; little boy. They enjoy themselves, forgetting about pictures and time.They laughed loudly for Ji Yuanben and his robin, and Ke Lin suddenly remembered something and sat up, as if he had forgotten that his back was weak. "Did you notice that there is one thing we never think of," he said, "that we are cousins." It was strange how they had talked so much and never remembered such a simple thing, and they laughed even louder because they were in the mood to laugh about anything now.In the midst of the joy, the door opened, and in came Mrs. Medlock and Dr. Craven. Dr. Craven jumped to the sound of the alarm, and Mrs. Medlock almost fell backwards, for he happened to bump into her. "For God's sake!" exclaimed poor Mrs. Medlock, her eyes nearly popping out, "for God's sake!" "What's that?" said Dr. Craven, coming forward. "What does it mean?" Mary thought again of the little Indian prince.Colin replied, as if the doctor's alarm, and Mrs. Medlock's terror, had no effect.It was as if an old cat and an old dog came in, and he was not disturbed or afraid at all. "This is my cousin, Mary Lennox," he said. "I asked her to come and talk to me. I like her. She must come whenever I send for her." Dr. Craven turned reproachfully to Mrs. Medlock. "Oh, sir," she gasped, "I don't know how this happened. There isn't a single servant in this place who can tell—they've all been ordered." "Nobody told her anything," said Colin. "She heard me cry, and found me herself. I'm glad she came. Don't be a fool, Medlock." Mary saw that Dr. Craven was unhappy, but it was evident that he dared not object to his patient.He sat down beside Colin and took his pulse. "I fear you are overexcited. Excitement is not good for you, my boy," he said. "I'll get excited if she doesn't come," replied Colin, his eyes beginning to gleam dangerously. "I'm better now. She made me better. The nurse has to bring her to me. We'll have tea together." Mrs. Medlock and Dr. Craven looked at each other in embarrassment, but apparently there was nothing they could do. "He did look better, sir," tried Mrs. Medlock, "but"—she mulled the matter over—"he looked better this morning, before she came into the room." "She came last night. She stayed with me a long time. She sang me a Hindustan song and put me to sleep," said Colin. "I woke up feeling better. Had an appetite for breakfast. Now I want tea. Tell the nurse, Medlock." Dr. Craven did not stay long.He spoke to the nurse for a few minutes and warned Colin when the nurse came into the room.He must not talk too much; he must not forget that he is sick; he must not forget that he gets tired easily.There seemed to be many unpleasant things he could not forget, thought Mary. Colin looked restless, his strange black eyes fixed on Dr. Craven's face. "I want to forget," he said at last, "she makes me forget. That's why I want her." Dr. Craven looked unhappy as he left the room.He glanced puzzled at the little girl sitting on the big stool.From the moment he came in, she was a stiff, silent child again, and he couldn't see where the attraction was.The boy did look brighter, however—he sighed heavily and walked down the corridor. "They always want me to eat when I don't want to," said Colin, as the nurse brought in the tea and put it on the table by the sofa. The cake looks hot and nice. Tell me about the Indian Raja.”