able to help us with the gardening,' said Dickon kindly,
'Do you really think I'll be able to... to walk and... dig?' asked Colin.
'Of course you will. You've got legs, like us!'
'But they're not very strong,' answered Colin. 'They
shake, and . .. and I'm afraid to stand on them.'
'When you want to use them, you'll be able to,' said Dickon. The garden was quiet for a moment.
Suddenly Colin said, 'Who's that?' Mary turned her head, and noticed Ben Weatherstaff's angry face looking at
her over the garden wall,
'What are you doing in that garden, young miss?' he shouted, He had not seen Colin or Dickon.
'The robin showed me the way, Ben,' she replied. 'You... you—' He stopped shouting and his mouth
dropped open as he saw Dickon pushing a boy in a wheelchair over the grass towards him.
'Do you know who I am?' asked the boy in the chair. Old Ben stared. 'You've got your mother's eyes,' he said in a shaking voice. 'Yes, I know you. You're Mr Craven's
son, the little boy with the crooked back.'
Colin forgot that he had ever had backache. 'My back's as straight as yours is!' he shouted.
Ben stared and stared. He only knew what he had heard from the servants. 'You haven't got a crooked back?' he
asked. 'Or crooked legs?'
That was too much. Colin was furious, and it made him feel strong.
'Come here, Dickon!' he shouted, and threw off his blanket. Dickon was by his side in a second. Mary felt sick with fear. Could Colin stand?
Then Colin's thin feet were on the grass and he was standing, holding Dickon's arm. He looked strangely tall,
and he held his head very high.
'Look at me!' he shouted at Ben. 'Just look at me!'
'He's as straight as any boy in Yorkshire!' said Dickon. Tears were running down Ben's brown old face. 'They
said you were going to die!' he whispered.
'Well, you can see that's not true,' said Colin. 'Now, get
down from the wall and come here. I want to talk to you.
You've got to help us keep the garden a secret.' 'Yes, sir,' said old Ben, as he dried his eyes.