At last he gave a great sigh, and said, “I'm so tired.” But he did not

hear the gentle echo that answered from far away over his head, for at

the same moment he came against the lowest of a few steps that stretched

across the church, and fell down and hurt his arm. He cried a little

first, and then crawled up the steps on his hands and knees. At the top

he came to a little bit of carpet, on which he lay down; and there he

lay staring at the dull window that rose nearly a hundred feet above his

head.

Now this was the eastern window of the church, and the moon was at that

moment just on the edge of the horizon. The next, she was peeping over

it. And lo! with the moon, St. John and St. Paul, and the rest of them,

began to dawn in the window in their lovely garments. Diamond did not

know that the wonder-working moon was behind, and he thought all the

light was coming out of the window itself, and that the good old men

were appearing to help him, growing out of the night and the darkness,

because he had hurt his arm, and was very tired and lonely, and North

Wind was so long in coming. So he lay and looked at them backwards over

his head, wondering when they would come down or what they would do

next. They were very dim, for the moonlight was not strong enough for

the colours, and he had enough to do with his eyes trying to make out

their shapes. So his eyes grew tired, and more and more tired, and his

eyelids grew so heavy that they would keep tumbling down over his eyes.

He kept lifting them and lifting them, but every time they were heavier

than the last. It was no use: they were too much for him. Sometimes

before he had got them half up, down they were again; and at length he

gave it up quite, and the moment he gave it up, he was fast asleep.

THAT Diamond had fallen fast asleep is very evident from the strange

things he now fancied as taking place. For he thought he heard a sound

as of whispering up in the great window. He tried to open his eyes, but

he could not. And the whispering went on and grew louder and louder,

until he could hear every word that was said. He thought it was the

Apostles talking about him. But he could not open his eyes.

“And how comes he to be lying there, St. Peter?” said one.

“I think I saw him a while ago up in the gallery, under the Nicodemus

window. Perhaps he has fallen down.

“What do you think, St. Matthew?”

“I don't think he could have crept here after falling from such a

height. He must have been killed.”

“What are we to do with him? We can't leave him lying there. And we

could not make him comfortable up here in the window: it's rather

crowded already. What do you say, St. Thomas?”

“Let's go down and look at him.”

There came a rustling, and a chinking, for some time, and then there was

a silence, and Diamond felt somehow that all the Apostles were standing

round him and looking down on him. And still he could not open his eyes.

“What is the matter with him, St. Luke?” asked one.

“There's nothing the matter with him,” answered St. Luke, who must

have joined the company of the Apostles from the next window, one would

think. “He's in a sound sleep.”

“I have it,” cried another. “This is one of North Wind's tricks. She

has caught him up and dropped him at our door, like a withered leaf or a

foundling baby. I don't understand that woman's conduct, I must say. As

if we hadn't enough to do with our money, without going taking care

of other people's children! That's not what our forefathers built

cathedrals for.”

Now Diamond could not bear to hear such things against North Wind, who,

he knew, never played anybody a trick. She was far too busy with her own

work for that. He struggled hard to open his eyes, but without success.

“She should consider that a church is not a place for pranks, not to

mention that we live in it,” said another.

“It certainly is disrespectful of her. But she always is disrespectful.

What right has she to bang at our windows as she has been doing the

whole of this night? I daresay there is glass broken somewhere. I know

my blue robe is in a dreadful mess with the rain first and the dust

after. It will cost me shillings to clean it.”

Then Diamond knew that they could not be Apostles, talking like this.

They could only be the sextons and vergers and such-like, who got up at

night, and put on the robes of deans and bishops, and called each other

grand names, as the foolish servants he had heard his father tell of

call themselves lords and ladies, after their masters and mistresses.

And he was so angry at their daring to abuse North Wind, that he jumped

up, crying--“North Wind knows best what she is about. She has a good

right to blow the cobwebs from your windows, for she was sent to do it.

She sweeps them away from grander places, I can tell you, for I've been

with her at it.”

This was what he began to say, but as he spoke his eyes came wide open,

and behold, there were neither Apostles nor vergers there--not even a

window with the effigies of holy men in it, but a dark heap of hay all

about him, and the little panes in the roof of his loft glimmering blue

in the light of the morning. Old Diamond was coming awake down below in

the stable. In a moment more he was on his feet, and shaking himself so

that young Diamond's bed trembled under him.

“He's grand at shaking himself,” said Diamond. “I wish I could shake

myself like that. But then I can wash myself, and he can't. What fun

it would be to see Old Diamond washing his face with his hoofs and iron

shoes! Wouldn't it be a picture?”

So saying, he got up and dressed himself. Then he went out into the

garden. There must have been a tremendous wind in the night, for

although all was quiet now, there lay the little summer-house crushed

to the ground, and over it the great elm-tree, which the wind had broken

across, being much decayed in the middle. Diamond almost cried to see

the wilderness of green leaves, which used to be so far up in the blue

air, tossing about in the breeze, and liking it best when the wind blew

it most, now lying so near the ground, and without any hope of ever

getting up into the deep air again.

“I wonder how old the tree is!” thought Diamond. “It must take a long

time to get so near the sky as that poor tree was.”

“Yes, indeed,” said a voice beside him, for Diamond had spoken the last

words aloud.

Diamond started, and looking around saw a clergyman, a brother of Mrs.

Coleman, who happened to be visiting her. He was a great scholar, and

was in the habit of rising early.

“Who are you, my man?” he added.

“Little Diamond,” answered the boy.

“Oh! I have heard of you. How do you come to be up so early?”

“Because the sham Apostles talked such nonsense, they waked me up.”

The clergyman stared. Diamond saw that he had better have held his

tongue, for he could not explain things.

“You must have been dreaming, my little man,” said he. “Dear! dear!” he

went on, looking at the tree, “there has been terrible work here. This

is the north wind's doing. What a pity! I wish we lived at the back of

it, I'm sure.”

“Where is that sir?” asked Diamond.

“Away in the Hyperborean regions,” answered the clergyman, smiling.