Текст книги "Страна Северного Ветра / At the Back of the North Wind"

Автор книги: Джордж МакДональд

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Текущая страница: 34 (всего у книги 35 страниц)

forgotten me when you woke, I daresay, but not loved me like a real

being as you love me. Even then, I don't think you could dream anything

that hadn't something real like it somewhere. But you've seen me in many

shapes, Diamond: you remember I was a wolf once–don't you?”

“Oh yes–a good wolf that frightened a naughty drunken nurse.”

“Well, suppose I were to turn ugly, would you rather I weren't a dream

then?”

“Yes; for I should know that you were beautiful inside all the same. You

would love me, and I should love you all the same. I shouldn't like you

to look ugly, you know. But I shouldn't believe it a bit.”

“Not if you saw it?”

“No, not if I saw it ever so plain.”

“There's my Diamond! I will tell you all I know about it then. I don't

think I am just what you fancy me to be. I have to shape myself various

ways to various people. But the heart of me is true. People call me

by dreadful names, and think they know all about me. But they don't.

Sometimes they call me Bad Fortune, sometimes Evil Chance, sometimes

Ruin; and they have another name for me which they think the most

dreadful of all.”

“What is that?” asked Diamond, smiling up in her face.

“I won't tell you that name. Do you remember having to go through me to

get into the country at my back?”

“Oh yes, I do. How cold you were, North Wind! and so white, all but your

lovely eyes! My heart grew like a lump of ice, and then I forgot for a

while.”

“You were very near knowing what they call me then. Would you be afraid

of me if you had to go through me again?”

“No. Why should I? Indeed I should be glad enough, if it was only to get

another peep of the country at your back.”

“You've never seen it yet.”

“Haven't I, North Wind? Oh! I'm so sorry! I thought I had. What did I

see then?”

“Only a picture of it. The real country at my real back is ever so much

more beautiful than that. You shall see it one day–perhaps before very

long.”

“Do they sing songs there?”

“Don't you remember the dream you had about the little boys that dug for

the stars?”

“Yes, that I do. I thought you must have had something to do with that

dream, it was so beautiful.”

“Yes; I gave you that dream.”

“Oh! thank you. Did you give Nanny her dream too–about the moon and the

bees?”

“Yes. I was the lady that sat at the window of the moon.”

“Oh, thank you. I was almost sure you had something to do with that too.

And did you tell Mr. Raymond the story about the Princess Daylight?”

“I believe I had something to do with it. At all events he thought about

it one night when he couldn't sleep. But I want to ask you whether you

remember the song the boy-angels sang in that dream of yours.”

“No. I couldn't keep it, do what I would, and I did try.”

“That was my fault.”

“How could that be, North Wind?”

“Because I didn't know it properly myself, and so I couldn't teach it to

you. I could only make a rough guess at something like what it would be,

and so I wasn't able to make you dream it hard enough to remember it.

Nor would I have done so if I could, for it was not correct. I made you

dream pictures of it, though. But you will hear the very song itself

when you do get to the back of–”

“My own dear North Wind,” said Diamond, finishing the sentence for her,

and kissing the arm that held him leaning against her.

“And now we've settled all this–for the time, at least,” said North

Wind.

“But I can't feel quite sure yet,” said Diamond.

“You must wait a while for that. Meantime you may be hopeful, and

content not to be quite sure. Come now, I will take you home again, for

it won't do to tire you too much.”

“Oh, no, no. I'm not the least tired,” pleaded Diamond.

“It is better, though.”

“Very well; if you wish it,” yielded Diamond with a sigh.

“You are a dear good, boy” said North Wind. “I will come for you again

to-morrow night and take you out for a longer time. We shall make a

little journey together, in fact, we shall start earlier, and as the

moon will be later, we shall have a little moonlight all the way.”

She rose, and swept over the meadow and the trees. In a few moments

the Mound appeared below them. She sank a little, and floated in at the

window of Diamond's room. There she laid him on his bed, covered him

over, and in a moment he was lapt in a dreamless sleep.

CHAPTER XXXVII. ONCE MORE

THE next night Diamond was seated by his open window, with his head on

his hand, rather tired, but so eagerly waiting for the promised visit

that he was afraid he could not sleep. But he started suddenly, and

found that he had been already asleep. He rose, and looking out of the

window saw something white against his beech-tree. It was North Wind.

She was holding by one hand to a top branch. Her hair and her garments

went floating away behind her over the tree, whose top was swaying about

while the others were still.

“Are you ready, Diamond?” she asked.

“Yes,” answered Diamond, “quite ready.”

In a moment she was at the window, and her arms came in and took him.

She sailed away so swiftly that he could at first mark nothing but the

speed with which the clouds above and the dim earth below went rushing

past. But soon he began to see that the sky was very lovely, with

mottled clouds all about the moon, on which she threw faint colours like

those of mother-of-pearl, or an opal. The night was warm, and in the

lady's arms he did not feel the wind which down below was making waves

in the ripe corn, and ripples on the rivers and lakes. At length they

descended on the side of an open earthy hill, just where, from beneath a

stone, a spring came bubbling out.

“I am going to take you along this little brook,” said North Wind. “I am

not wanted for anything else to-night, so I can give you a treat.”

She stooped over the stream and holding Diamond down close to the

surface of it, glided along level with its flow as it ran down the hill.

And the song of the brook came up into Diamond's ears, and grew and

grew and changed with every turn. It seemed to Diamond to be singing the

story of its life to him. And so it was. It began with a musical tinkle

which changed to a babble and then to a gentle rushing. Sometimes its

song would almost cease, and then break out again, tinkle, babble, and

rush, all at once. At the bottom of the hill they came to a small river,

into which the brook flowed with a muffled but merry sound. Along the

surface of the river, darkly clear below them in the moonlight, they

floated; now, where it widened out into a little lake, they would hover

for a moment over a bed of water-lilies, and watch them swing about,

folded in sleep, as the water on which they leaned swayed in the

presence of North Wind; and now they would watch the fishes asleep among

their roots below. Sometimes she would hold Diamond over a deep hollow

curving into the bank, that he might look far into the cool stillness.

Sometimes she would leave the river and sweep across a clover-field. The

bees were all at home, and the clover was asleep. Then she would return

and follow the river. It grew wider and wider as it went. Now the armies

of wheat and of oats would hang over its rush from the opposite banks;

now the willows would dip low branches in its still waters; and now it

would lead them through stately trees and grassy banks into a lovely

garden, where the roses and lilies were asleep, the tender flowers

quite folded up, and only a few wide-awake and sending out their life in

sweet, strong odours. Wider and wider grew the stream, until they came

upon boats lying along its banks, which rocked a little in the flutter

of North Wind's garments. Then came houses on the banks, each standing

in a lovely lawn, with grand trees; and in parts the river was so high

that some of the grass and the roots of some of the trees were under

water, and Diamond, as they glided through between the stems, could see

the grass at the bottom of the water. Then they would leave the river

and float about and over the houses, one after another–beautiful rich

houses, which, like fine trees, had taken centuries to grow. There was

scarcely a light to be seen, and not a movement to be heard: all the

people in them lay fast asleep.

“What a lot of dreams they must be dreaming!” said Diamond.

“Yes,” returned North Wind. “They can't surely be all lies–can they?”

“I should think it depends a little on who dreams them,” suggested

Diamond.

“Yes,” said North Wind. “The people who think lies, and do lies, are

very likely to dream lies. But the people who love what is true will

surely now and then dream true things. But then something depends on

whether the dreams are home-grown, or whether the seed of them is blown

over somebody else's garden-wall. Ah! there's some one awake in this

house!”

They were floating past a window in which a light was burning. Diamond

heard a moan, and looked up anxiously in North Wind's face.

“It's a lady,” said North Wind. “She can't sleep for pain.”

“Couldn't you do something for her?” said Diamond.

“No, I can't. But you could.”

“What could I do?”

“Sing a little song to her.”

“She wouldn't hear me.”

“I will take you in, and then she will hear you.”

“But that would be rude, wouldn't it? You can go where you please, of

course, but I should have no business in her room.”

“You may trust me, Diamond. I shall take as good care of the lady as of

you. The window is open. Come.”

By a shaded lamp, a lady was seated in a white wrapper, trying to read,

but moaning every minute. North Wind floated behind her chair,

set Diamond down, and told him to sing something. He was a little

frightened, but he thought a while, and then sang:–

           The sun is gone down,

           And the moon's in the sky;

           But the sun will come up,

           And the moon be laid by.

           The flower is asleep

           But it is not dead;

           When the morning shines,

           It will lift its head.

           When winter comes,

           It will die–no, no;

           It will only hide

           From the frost and the snow.

           Sure is the summer,

           Sure is the sun;

           The night and the winter

           Are shadows that run.

The lady never lifted her eyes from her book, or her head from her hand.

As soon as Diamond had finished, North Wind lifted him and carried him

away.

“Didn't the lady hear me?” asked Diamond when they were once more

floating down the river.

“Oh, yes, she heard you,” answered North Wind.

“Was she frightened then?”

“Oh, no.”

“Why didn't she look to see who it was?”

“She didn't know you were there.”

“How could she hear me then?”

“She didn't hear you with her ears.”

“What did she hear me with?”

“With her heart.”

“Where did she think the words came from?”

“She thought they came out of the book she was reading. She will search

all through it to-morrow to find them, and won't be able to understand

it at all.”

“Oh, what fun!” said Diamond. “What will she do?”

“I can tell you what she won't do: she'll never forget the meaning of

them; and she'll never be able to remember the words of them.”

“If she sees them in Mr. Raymond's book, it will puzzle her, won't it?”

“Yes, that it will. She will never be able to understand it.”

“Until she gets to the back of the north wind,” suggested Diamond.

“Until she gets to the back of the north wind,” assented the lady.

“Oh!” cried Diamond, “I know now where we are. Oh! do let me go into the

old garden, and into mother's room, and Diamond's stall. I wonder if the

hole is at the back of my bed still. I should like to stay there all the

rest of the night. It won't take you long to get home from here, will

it, North Wind?”

“No,” she answered; “you shall stay as long as you like.”

“Oh, how jolly,” cried Diamond, as North Wind sailed over the house with

him, and set him down on the lawn at the back.

Diamond ran about the lawn for a little while in the moonlight. He found

part of it cut up into flower-beds, and the little summer-house with the

coloured glass and the great elm-tree gone. He did not like this, and

ran into the stable. There were no horses there at all. He ran upstairs.

The rooms were empty. The only thing left that he cared about was the

hole in the wall where his little bed had stood; and that was not enough

to make him wish to stop. He ran down the stair again, and out upon the

lawn. There he threw himself down and began to cry. It was all so dreary

and lost!

“I thought I liked the place so much,” said Diamond to himself, “but I

find I don't care about it. I suppose it's only the people in it that

make you like a place, and when they're gone, it's dead, and you don't

care a bit about it. North Wind told me I might stop as long as I liked,

and I've stopped longer already. North Wind!” he cried aloud, turning

his face towards the sky.

The moon was under a cloud, and all was looking dull and dismal. A

star shot from the sky, and fell in the grass beside him. The moment it

lighted, there stood North Wind.

“Oh!” cried Diamond, joyfully, “were you the shooting star?”

“Yes, my child.”

“Did you hear me call you then?”

“Yes.”

“So high up as that?”

“Yes; I heard you quite well.”

“Do take me home.”

“Have you had enough of your old home already?”

“Yes, more than enough. It isn't a home at all now.”

“I thought that would be it,” said North Wind. “Everything, dreaming and

all, has got a soul in it, or else it's worth nothing, and we don't care

a bit about it. Some of our thoughts are worth nothing, because they've

got no soul in them. The brain puts them into the mind, not the mind

into the brain.”

“But how can you know about that, North Wind? You haven't got a body.”

“If I hadn't you wouldn't know anything about me. No creature can know

another without the help of a body. But I don't care to talk about that.

It is time for you to go home.”

So saying, North Wind lifted Diamond and bore him away.

CHAPTER XXXVIII. AT THE BACK OF THE NORTH WIND

I DID not see Diamond for a week or so after this, and then he told me

what I have now told you. I should have been astonished at his being

able even to report such conversations as he said he had had with

North Wind, had I not known already that some children are profound in

metaphysics. But a fear crosses me, lest, by telling so much about

my friend, I should lead people to mistake him for one of those

consequential, priggish little monsters, who are always trying to say

clever things, and looking to see whether people appreciate them. When a

child like that dies, instead of having a silly book written about him,

he should be stuffed like one of those awful big-headed fishes you

see in museums. But Diamond never troubled his head about what people

thought of him. He never set up for knowing better than others. The

wisest things he said came out when he wanted one to help him with some

difficulty he was in. He was not even offended with Nanny and Jim for

calling him a silly. He supposed there was something in it, though he

could not quite understand what. I suspect however that the other name

they gave him, God's Baby, had some share in reconciling him to it.

Happily for me, I was as much interested in metaphysics as Diamond

himself, and therefore, while he recounted his conversations with North

Wind, I did not find myself at all in a strange sea, although certainly

I could not always feel the bottom, being indeed convinced that the

bottom was miles away.

“Could it be all dreaming, do you think, sir?” he asked anxiously.

“I daren't say, Diamond,” I answered. “But at least there is one thing

you may be sure of, that there is a still better love than that of the

wonderful being you call North Wind. Even if she be a dream, the dream

of such a beautiful creature could not come to you by chance.”

“Yes, I know,” returned Diamond; “I know.”

Then he was silent, but, I confess, appeared more thoughtful than

satisfied.

The next time I saw him, he looked paler than usual.

“Have you seen your friend again?” I asked him.

“Yes,” he answered, solemnly.

“Did she take you out with her?”

“No. She did not speak to me. I woke all at once, as I generally do when

I am going to see her, and there she was against the door into the big

room, sitting just as I saw her sit on her own doorstep, as white as

snow, and her eyes as blue as the heart of an iceberg. She looked at me,

but never moved or spoke.”

“Weren't you afraid?” I asked.

“No. Why should I have been?” he answered. “I only felt a little cold.”

“Did she stay long?”

“I don't know. I fell asleep again. I think I have been rather cold ever

since though,” he added with a smile.

I did not quite like this, but I said nothing.

Four days after, I called again at the Mound. The maid who opened

the door looked grave, but I suspected nothing. When I reached the

drawing-room, I saw Mrs. Raymond had been crying.

“Haven't you heard?” she said, seeing my questioning looks.

“I've heard nothing,” I answered.

“This morning we found our dear little Diamond lying on the floor of the

big attic-room, just outside his own door–fast asleep, as we thought.

But when we took him up, we did not think he was asleep. We saw

that–”

Here the kind-hearted lady broke out crying afresh.

“May I go and see him?” I asked.

“Yes,” she sobbed. “You know your way to the top of the tower.”

I walked up the winding stair, and entered his room. A lovely figure, as

white and almost as clear as alabaster, was lying on the bed. I saw at

once how it was. They thought he was dead. I knew that he had gone to

the back of the north wind.

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opportunities to fix the problem.

1.F.4.  Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth

in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS' WITH NO OTHER

WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO