I could not regard it all in exactly the same light as he did, I was,

while guiltless of the least pretence, fully sympathetic, and he

was satisfied without demanding of me any theory of difficult points

involved. I let him see plainly enough, that whatever might be the

explanation of the marvellous experience, I would have given much for a

similar one myself.

On an evening soon after the thunderstorm, in a late twilight, with

a half-moon high in the heavens, I came upon Diamond in the act of

climbing by his little ladder into the beech-tree.

“What are you always going up there for, Diamond?” I heard Nanny ask,

rather rudely, I thought.

“Sometimes for one thing, sometimes for another, Nanny,” answered

Diamond, looking skywards as he climbed.

“You'll break your neck some day,” she said.

“I'm going up to look at the moon to-night,” he added, without heeding

her remark.

“You'll see the moon just as well down here,” she returned.

“I don't think so.”

“You'll be no nearer to her up there.”

“Oh, yes! I shall. I must be nearer her, you know. I wish I could dream

as pretty dreams about her as you can, Nanny.”

“You silly! you never have done about that dream. I never dreamed but

that one, and it was nonsense enough, I'm sure.”

“It wasn't nonsense. It was a beautiful dream--and a funny one too, both

in one.”

“But what's the good of talking about it that way, when you know it was

only a dream? Dreams ain't true.”

“That one was true, Nanny. You know it was. Didn't you come to grief for

doing what you were told not to do? And isn't that true?”

“I can't get any sense into him,” exclaimed Nanny, with an expression of

mild despair. “Do you really believe, Diamond, that there's a house in

the moon, with a beautiful lady and a crooked old man and dusters in

it?”

“If there isn't, there's something better,” he answered, and vanished in

the leaves over our heads.

I went into the house, where I visited often in the evenings. When I

came out, there was a little wind blowing, very pleasant after the heat

of the day, for although it was late summer now, it was still hot. The

tree-tops were swinging about in it. I took my way past the beech, and

called up to see if Diamond were still in his nest in its rocking head.

“Are you there, Diamond?” I said.

“Yes, sir,” came his clear voice in reply.

“Isn't it growing too dark for you to get down safely?”

“Oh, no, sir--if I take time to it. I know my way so well, and never let

go with one hand till I've a good hold with the other.”

“Do be careful,” I insisted--foolishly, seeing the boy was as careful as

he could be already.

“I'm coming,” he returned. “I've got all the moon I want to-night.”

I heard a rustling and a rustling drawing nearer and nearer. Three or

four minutes elapsed, and he appeared at length creeping down his little

ladder. I took him in my arms, and set him on the ground.

“Thank you, sir,” he said. “That's the north wind blowing, isn't it,

sir?”

“I can't tell,” I answered. “It feels cool and kind, and I think it may

be. But I couldn't be sure except it were stronger, for a gentle wind

might turn any way amongst the trunks of the trees.”

“I shall know when I get up to my own room,” said Diamond. “I think I

hear my mistress's bell. Good-night, sir.”

He ran to the house, and I went home.

His mistress had rung for him only to send him to bed, for she was very

careful over him and I daresay thought he was not looking well. When he

reached his own room, he opened both his windows, one of which looked to

the north and the other to the east, to find how the wind blew. It blew

right in at the northern window. Diamond was very glad, for he thought

perhaps North Wind herself would come now: a real north wind had never

blown all the time since he left London. But, as she always came of

herself, and never when he was looking for her, and indeed almost never

when he was thinking of her, he shut the east window, and went to bed.

Perhaps some of my readers may wonder that he could go to sleep with

such an expectation; and, indeed, if I had not known him, I should have

wondered at it myself; but it was one of his peculiarities, and seemed

nothing strange in him. He was so full of quietness that he could go

to sleep almost any time, if he only composed himself and let the sleep

come. This time he went fast asleep as usual.

But he woke in the dim blue night. The moon had vanished. He thought he

heard a knocking at his door. “Somebody wants me,” he said to himself,

and jumping out of bed, ran to open it.

But there was no one there. He closed it again, and, the noise still

continuing, found that another door in the room was rattling. It

belonged to a closet, he thought, but he had never been able to open it.

The wind blowing in at the window must be shaking it. He would go and

see if it was so.

The door now opened quite easily, but to his surprise, instead of a

closet he found a long narrow room. The moon, which was sinking in the

west, shone in at an open window at the further end. The room was

low with a coved ceiling, and occupied the whole top of the house,

immediately under the roof. It was quite empty. The yellow light of

the half-moon streamed over the dark floor. He was so delighted at the

discovery of the strange, desolate, moonlit place close to his own snug

little room, that he began to dance and skip about the floor. The wind

came in through the door he had left open, and blew about him as he

danced, and he kept turning towards it that it might blow in his face.

He kept picturing to himself the many places, lovely and desolate, the

hill-sides and farm-yards and tree-tops and meadows, over which it had

blown on its way to The Mound. And as he danced, he grew more and more

delighted with the motion and the wind; his feet grew stronger, and his

body lighter, until at length it seemed as if he were borne up on the

air, and could almost fly. So strong did his feeling become, that at

last he began to doubt whether he was not in one of those precious

dreams he had so often had, in which he floated about on the air at

will. But something made him look up, and to his unspeakable delight, he

found his uplifted hands lying in those of North Wind, who was dancing

with him, round and round the long bare room, her hair now falling to

the floor, now filling the arched ceiling, her eyes shining on him like

thinking stars, and the sweetest of grand smiles playing breezily about

her beautiful mouth. She was, as so often before, of the height of a

rather tall lady. She did not stoop in order to dance with him, but held

his hands high in hers. When he saw her, he gave one spring, and his

arms were about her neck, and her arms holding him to her bosom. The

same moment she swept with him through the open window in at which

the moon was shining, made a circuit like a bird about to alight, and

settled with him in his nest on the top of the great beech-tree.

There

she placed him on her lap and began to hush him as if he were her own

baby, and Diamond was so entirely happy that he did not care to speak a

word. At length, however, he found that he was going to sleep, and

that would be to lose so much, that, pleasant as it was, he could not

consent.