"Look at me!" he flung up at Ben Weatherstaff.
"Just look at me -- you! Just look at
me!"

"He's as straight as I am!" cried Dickon.
"He's as straight as any lad i' Yorkshire!"

What Ben Weatherstaff did Mary thought
queer beyond measure. He choked and gulped
and suddenly tears ran down his weather-wrinkled
cheeks as he struck his old hands together.

"Eh!" he burst forth, "th' lies folk tells!
Tha'rt as thin as a lath an' as white as a wraith,
but there's not a knob on thee. Tha'lt make a
mon yet. God bless thee!"

Dickon held Colin's arm strongly but the boy
had not begun to falter. He stood straighter and
straighter and looked Ben Weatherstaff in the
face.

"I'm your master," he said, "when my father
is away. And you are to obey me. This is my
garden. Don't dare to say a word about it!
You get down from that ladder and go out to the
Long Walk and Miss Mary will meet you and
bring you here. I want to talk to you. We did
not want you, but now you will have to be in the
secret. Be quick!"

Ben Weatherstaff's crabbed old face was still
wet with that one queer rush of tears. It seemed
as if he could not take his eyes from thin straight

[[282]]

p281 _ -chap- _ toc-1 _ p282w _ toc-2 _ +chap+ _ p283

v?