If Diamond had been a little older, and had supposed himself a good deal wiser, he would have thought the lady was joking. But he was not older, and did not fancy himself wiser, and therefore understood her well enough. Again he stretched out his arms. The lady’s face drew back a little.
“Follow me, Diamond,” she said.
“Yes,” said Diamond, only a little ruefully.
“You’re not afraid?” said the North Wind.
“No, ma’am; but mother never would let me go without shoes: she never said anything about clothes, so I dare say she wouldn’t mind that.”
“I know your mother very well,” said the lady. “She is a good woman. I have visited her often. I was with her when you were born. I saw her laugh and cry both at once. I love your mother, Diamond.”
“How was it you did not know my name, then, ma’am? Please am I to say ma’am to you, ma’am?”
“One question at a time, dear boy. I knew your name quite well, but I wanted to hear what you would say for it. Don’t you remember that day when the man was finding fault with your name—how I blew the window in?”
“Yes, yes,” answered Diamond, eagerly. “Our window opens like a door, right over the coach-house door. And the wind—you, ma’am—came in, and blew the Bible out of the man’s hands, and the leaves went all flutter, flutter on the floor, and my mother picked it up and gave it back to him open, and there—”
“Was your name in the Bible—the sixth stone in the high priest’s breastplate.”
“Oh!—a stone, was it?” said Diamond. “I thought it had been a horse—I did.”
“Never mind. A horse is better than a stone any day. Well, you see, I know all about you and your mother.”
“Yes. I will go with you.”
“Now for the next question: you’re not to call me ma’am. You must call me just my own name—respectfully, you know—just North Wind.”
“Well, please, North Wind, you are so beautiful, I am quite ready to go with you.”
“You must not be ready to go with everything beautiful all at once, Diamond.”
“But what’s beautiful can’t be bad. You’re not bad, North Wind?”
“No; I’m not bad. But sometimes beautiful things grow bad by doing bad, and it takes some time for their badness to spoil their beauty. So little boys may be mistaken if they go after things because they are beautiful.”
“Well, I will go with you because you are beautiful and good, too.”
“Ah, but there’s another thing, Diamond:—What if I should look ugly without being bad—look ugly myself because I am making ugly things beautiful?—What then?”
“I don’t quite understand you, North Wind. You tell me what then.”
“Well, I will tell you. If you see me with my face all black, don’t be frightened. If you see me flapping wings like a bat’s, as big as the whole sky, don’t be frightened. If you hear me raging ten times worse than Mrs. Bill, the blacksmith’s wife—even if you see me looking in at people’s windows like Mrs. Eve Dropper, the gardener’s wife—you must believe that I am doing my work. Nay, Diamond, if I change into a serpent or a tiger, you must not let go your hold of me, for my hand will never change in yours if you keep a good hold. If you keep a hold, you will know who I am all the time, even when you look at me and can’t see me the least like the North Wind. I may look something very awful. Do you understand?”
“Quite well,” said little Diamond.
“Come along, then,” said North Wind, and disappeared behind the mountain of hay.
Diamond crept out of bed and followed her.
II
The Lawn
When Diamond got round the corner of the hay, for a moment he hesitated. The stair by which he would naturally have gone down to the door was at the other side of the loft, and looked very black indeed; for it was full of North Wind’s hair, as she descended before him. And just beside him was the ladder going straight down into the stable, up which his father always came to fetch the hay for Diamond’s dinner. Through the opening in the floor the faint gleam of the-stable lantern was enticing, and Diamond thought he would run down that way.
The stair went close past the loose-box in which Diamond the horse lived. When Diamond the boy was halfway down, he remembered that it was of no use to go this way, for the stable-door was locked. But at the same moment there was horse Diamond’s great head poked out of his box on to the ladder, for he knew boy Diamond although he was in his nightgown, and wanted him to pull his ears for him. This Diamond did very gently for a minute or so, and patted and stroked his neck too, and kissed the big horse, and had begun to take the bits of straw and hay out of his mane, when all at once he recollected that the Lady North Wind was waiting for him in the yard.
“Good night, Diamond,” he said, and darted up the ladder, across the loft, and down the stair to the door. But when he got out into the yard, there was no lady.
Now it is always a dreadful thing to think there is somebody and find nobody. Children in particular have not made up their minds to it; they generally cry at nobody, especially when they wake up at night. But it was an especial disappointment to Diamond, for his little heart had been beating with joy: the face of the North Wind was so grand! To have a lady like that for a friend—with such long hair, too! Why, it was longer than twenty Diamonds’ tails! She was gone. And there he stood, with his bare feet on the stones of the paved yard.
It was a clear night overhead, and the stars were shining. Orion in particular
