the secret garden-第16节

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ne　an'　play　thee。　　I've　done　talkin'　for　today。〃

And　he　said　it　so　crossly　that　she　knew　there　was　not　the　least　use　in　staying　another　minute。　　She　went　skipping　slowly　down　the　outside　walk；　thinking　him　over　and　saying　to　herself　that；　queer　as　it　was；　here　was　another　person　whom　she　liked　in　spite　of　his　crossness。　She　liked　old　Ben　Weatherstaff。　　Yes；　she　did　like　him。　She　always　wanted　to　try　to　make　him　talk　to　her。　Also　she　began　to　believe　that　he　knew　everything　in　the　world　about　flowers。

There　was　a　laurel…hedged　walk　which　curved　round　the　secret　garden　and　ended　at　a　gate　which　opened　into　a　wood；　in　the　park。　　She　thought　she　would　slip　round　this　walk　and　look　into　the　wood　and　see　if　there　were　any　rabbits　hopping　about。　　She　enjoyed　the　skipping　very　much　and　when　she　reached　the　little　gate　she　opened　it　and　went　through　because　she　heard　a　low；　peculiar　whistling　sound　and　wanted　to　find　out　what　it　was。

It　was　a　very　strange　thing　indeed。　　She　quite　caught　her　breath　as　she　stopped　to　look　at　it。　　A　boy　was　sitting　under　a　tree；　with　his　back　against　it；　playing　on　a　rough　wooden　pipe。　　He　was　a　funny　looking　boy　about　twelve。　He　looked　very　clean　and　his　nose　turned　up　and　his　cheeks　were　as　red　as　poppies　and　never　had　Mistress　Mary　seen　such　round　and　such　blue　eyes　in　any　boy's　face。　And　on　the　trunk　of　the　tree　he　leaned　against；　a　brown　squirrel　was　clinging　and　watching　him；　and　from　behind　a　bush　nearby　a　cock　pheasant　was　delicately　stretching　his　neck　to　peep　out；　and　quite　near　him　were　two　rabbits　sitting　up　and　sniffing　with　tremulous　nosesand　actually　it　appeared　as　if　they　were　all　drawing　near　to　watch　him　and　listen　to　the　strange　low　little　call　his　pipe　seemed　to　make。

When　he　saw　Mary　he　held　up　his　hand　and　spoke　to　her　in　a　voice　almost　as　low　as　and　rather　like　his　piping。

〃Don't　tha'　move；〃　he　said。　　〃It'd　flight　'em。〃　Mary　remained　motionless。　　He　stopped　playing　his　pipe　and　began　to　rise　from　the　ground。　　He　moved　so　slowly　that　it　scarcely　seemed　as　though　he　were　moving　at　all；　but　at　last　he　stood　on　his　feet　and　then　the　squirrel　scampered　back　up　into　the　branches　of　his　tree；　the　pheasant　withdrew　his　head　and　the　rabbits　dropped　on　all　fours　and　began　to　hop　away；　though　not　at　all　as　if　they　were　frightened。

〃I'm　Dickon；〃　the　boy　said。　　〃I　know　tha'rt　Miss　Mary。〃

Then　Mary　realized　that　somehow　she　had　known　at　first　that　he　was　Dickon。　　Who　else　could　have　been　charming　rabbits　and　pheasants　as　the　natives　charm　snakes　in　India？　He　had　a　wide；　red；　curving　mouth　and　his　smile　spread　all　over　his　face。

〃I　got　up　slow；〃　he　explained；　〃because　if　tha'　makes　a　quick　move　it　startles　'em。　A　body　'as　to　move　gentle　an'　speak　low　when　wild　things　is　about。〃

He　did　not　speak　to　her　as　if　they　had　never　seen　each　other　before　but　as　if　he　knew　her　quite　well。　Mary　knew　nothing　about　boys　and　she　spoke　to　him　a　little　stiffly　because　she　felt　rather　shy。

〃Did　you　get　Martha's　letter？〃　she　asked。

He　nodded　his　curly；　rust…colored　head。　　〃That's　why　I　come。〃

He　stooped　to　pick　up　something　which　had　been　lying　on　the　ground　beside　him　when　he　piped。

〃I've　got　th'　garden　tools。　　There's　a　little　spade　an'　rake　an'　a　fork　an'　hoe。　　Eh！　they　are　good　'uns。　There's　a　trowel；　too。　　An'　th'　woman　in　th'　shop　threw　in　a　packet　o'　white　poppy　an'　one　o'　blue　larkspur　when　I　bought　th'　other　seeds。〃

〃Will　you　show　the　seeds　to　me？〃　Mary　said。

She　wished　she　could　talk　as　he　did。　　His　speech　was　so　quick　and　easy。　　It　sounded　as　if　he　liked　her　and　was　not　the　least　afraid　she　would　not　like　him；　though　he　was　only　a　common　moor　boy；　in　patched　clothes　and　with　a　funny　face　and　a　rough；　rusty…red　head。　As　she　came　closer　to　him　she　noticed　that　there　was　a　clean　fresh　scent　of　heather　and　grass　and　leaves　about　him；　almost　as　if　he　were　made　of　them。　　She　liked　it　very　much　and　when　she　looked　into　his　funny　face　with　the　red　cheeks　and　round　blue　eyes　she　forgot　that　she　had　felt　shy。

〃Let　us　sit　down　on　this　log　and　look　at　them；〃　she　said。

They　sat　down　and　he　took　a　clumsy　little　brown　paper　package　out　of　his　coat　pocket。　　He　untied　the　string　and　inside　there　were　ever　so　many　neater　and　smaller　packages　with　a　picture　of　a　flower　on　each　one。

〃There's　a　lot　o'　mignonette　an'　poppies；〃　he　said。　〃Mignonette's　th'　sweetest　smellin'　thing　as　grows；　an'　it'll　grow　wherever　you　cast　it；　same　as　poppies　will。　Them　as'll　come　up　an'　bloom　if　you　just　whistle　to　'em；　them's　th'　nicest　of　all。〃　He　stopped　and　turned　his　head　quickly；　his　poppy…cheeked　face　lighting　up。

〃Where's　that　robin　as　is　callin'　us？〃　he　said。

The　chirp　came　from　a　thick　holly　bush；　bright　with　scarlet　berries；　and　Mary　thought　she　knew　whose　it　was。

〃Is　it　really　calling　us？〃　she　asked。

〃Aye；〃　said　Dickon；　as　if　it　was　the　most　natural　thing　in　the　world；　〃he's　callin'　some　one　he's　friends　with。　That's　same　as　sayin'　‘Here　I　am。　　Look　at　me。　I　wants　a　bit　of　a　chat。'　There　he　is　in　the　bush。　Whose　is　he？〃

〃He's　Ben　Weatherstaff's；　but　I　think　he　knows　me　a　little；〃　answered　Mary。

〃Aye；　he　knows　thee；〃　said　Dickon　in　his　low　voice　again。　〃An'　he　likes　thee。　　He's　took　thee　on。　　He'll　tell　me　all　about　thee　in　a　minute。〃

He　moved　quite　close　to　the　bush　with　the　slow　movement　Mary　had　noticed　before；　and　then　he　made　a　sound　almost　like　the　robin's　own　twitter。　　The　robin　listened　a　few　seconds；　intently；　and　then　answered　quite　as　if　he　were　replying　to　a　question。

〃Aye；　he's　a　friend　o'　yours；〃　chuckled　Dickon。

〃Do　you　think　he　is？〃　cried　Mary　eagerly。　　She　did　so　want　to　know。　　〃Do　you　think　he　really　likes　me？〃

〃He　wouldn't　come　near　thee　if　he　didn't；〃　answered　Dickon。　〃Birds　is　rare　choosers　an'　a　robin　can　flout　a　body　worse　than　a　man。　　See；　he's　making　up　to　thee　now。　　‘Cannot　tha'　see　a　chap？'　he's　sayin'。〃

And　it　really　seemed　as　if　it　must　be　true。　　He　so　sidled　and　twittered　and　tilted　as　he　hopped　on　his　bush。

〃Do　you　understand　everything　birds　say？〃　said　Mary。

Dickon's　grin　spread　until　he　seemed　all　wide；　red；　curving　mouth；　and　he　rubbed　his　rough　head。

〃I　think　I　do；　and　they　think　I　do；〃　he　said。　　〃I've　lived　on　th'　moor　with　'em　so　long。　　I've　watched　'em　break　shell　an'　come　out　an'　fledge　an'　learn　to　fly　an'　begin　to　sing；　till　I　think　I'm　one　of　'em。　Sometimes　I　think　p'raps　I'm　a　bird；　or　a　fox；　or　a　rabbit；　or　a　squirrel；　or　even　a　beetle；　an'　I　don't　know　it。〃

He　laughed　and　came　back　to　the　log　and　began　to　talk　about　the　flower　seeds　again。　　He　told　her　what　they　looked　like　when　they　were　flowers；　he　told　her　how　to　plant　them；　and　watch　them；　and　feed　and　water　them。

〃See　here；〃　he　said　suddenly；　turning　round　to　look　at　her。　〃I'll　plant　them　for　thee　myself。　　Where　is　tha'　garden？〃

Mary's　thin　hands　clutched　each　other　as　they　lay　on　her　lap。　　She　did　not　know　what　to　say；　so　for　a　whole　minute　she　said　nothing。　　She　had　never　thought　of　this。　She　felt　miserable。　　And　she　felt　as　if　she　went　red　and　then　pale。

〃Tha's　got　a　bit　o'　garden；　hasn't　tha'？〃　Dickon　said。

It　was　true　that　she　had　turned　red　and　then　pale。　Dickon　saw　her　do　it；　and　as　she　still　said　nothing；　he　began　to　be　puzzled。

〃Wouldn't　they　give　thee　a　bit？〃　he　asked。　　〃Hasn't　tha'　got　any　yet？〃

She　held　her　hands　tighter　and　turned　her　eyes　toward　him。

〃I　don't　know　anything　about　boys；〃　she　said　slowly。　〃Could　you　keep　a　secret；　if　I　told　you　one？　It's　a　great　secret。　I　don't　know　what　I　should　do　if　any　one　found　it　out。　I　believe　I　should　die！〃　She　said　the　last　sentence　quite　fiercely。

Dickon　looked　more　puzzled　than　ever　and　even　rubbed　his　hand　over　his　rough　head　again；　but　he　answered　quite　good…humoredly。　〃I'm　keepin'　secrets　all　th'　time；〃　he　said。　〃If　I　couldn't　keep　secrets　from　th'　other　lads；　secrets　about　foxes'　cubs；　an'　birds'　nests；　an'　wild　things'　holes；　there'd　be　naught　safe　on　th'　moor。　　Aye；　I　can　keep　secrets。〃

Mistress　Mary　did　not　mean　to　put　out　her　hand　and　clutch　his　sleeve　but　she　did　it。

〃I've　stolen　a　garden；〃　she　said　very　fast。　　〃It　isn't　mine。　It　isn't　anybody's。　Nobody　wants　it；　nobody　cares　for　it；　nobody　ever　goes　into　it。　　Perhaps　everything　is　dead　in　it　already。　　I　don't　know。〃

She　began　to　feel　hot　and　as　contrary　as　she　had　ever　felt　in　her　life。

〃I　don't　care；　I　don't　care！　Nobody　has　any　right　to　take　it　from　me　when　I　care　about　it　and　they　don't。　They're　letting　it　die；　all　shut　in　by　itself；〃　she　ended　passionately；　and　she　threw　her　arms　over　her　face　and　burst　out　crying…poor　little　Mistress　Mary。

Dickon's　curious　blue　eyes　grew　rounder　and　rounder。　〃Eh…h…h！〃　he　said；　drawing　his　exclamation　out　slowly；　and　the　way　he　did　it　meant　both　wonder　and　sympathy。

〃I've　nothing　to　do；〃　said　Mary。　　〃Nothing　belongs　to　me。　I　found　it　myself　and　I　got　into　it　myself。　　I　was　only　just　like　the　robin；　and　they　wouldn't　take　it　from　the　robin。〃　〃Where　is　it？〃　asked　Dickon　in　a　dropped　voice。

Mistress　Mary　got　up　from　the　log　at　once。　　She　knew　she　felt　contrary　again；　and　obstinate；　and　she　did　not　care　at　all。　　She　was　imperious　and　Indian；　and　at　the　same　time　hot　and　sorrowful。

〃Come　with　me　and　I'll　show　you；〃　she　said。

She　led　him　round　the　laurel