When the Sun Went Down
When his head was out of sight Colin turned to Mary.
“Go and meet him,” he said; and Mary flew across the grass to the door under the ivy.
Dickon was watching him with sharp eyes. There were scarlet spots on his cheeks and he looked amazing, but he showed no signs of falling.
“I can stand,” he said, and his head was still held up and he said it quite grandly.
“I told thee tha’ could as soon as tha’ stopped bein’ afraid,” answered Dickon. “An’ tha’s stopped.”
“Yes, I’ve stopped,” said Colin.
Then suddenly he remembered something Mary had said.
“Are you making Magic?” he asked sharply.
Dickon’s curly mouth spread in a cheerful grin.
“Tha’s doin’ Magic thysel’,” he said. “It’s same Magic as made these ’ere work out o’ th’ earth,” and he touched with his thick boot a clump of crocuses in the grass.
Colin looked down at them.
“Aye,” he said slowly, “there couldna’ be bigger Magic then that there—there couldna’ be.”