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Each member of the family tried on everything in turn, but yielded the treasures instantly at a word from Mother 'That will do for so and so; this will fit Monkey; Jimbo, you take this, and so on. The door into the adjoining bedroom was for ever opening and shutting, as the children disappeared with armfuls and reappeared five minutes later, marvellously apparelled.
'Do I know a what? 'A cave where lost starlight collects, Monkey repeated, 'a Star Cave. And Jimbo said aloud the verses he had already learned by heart. While his small voice gave the words, more than a little mixed, a bird high up among the boughs woke from its beauty sleep and sang. The two sounds mingled.
The plaintive song and the dance ceased together, and before Jimbo could find any words to clothe even one of the thoughts that crowded through his mind, he saw them moving towards a door he had not hitherto noticed on the other side of the room.
So, beware of the Wind of the North, my child, Fly not with the Wind of the North!" "I think I like him all the same," said Jimbo. "But I'll remember always to fly against him." "The East Wind is worse still, for it hurts," continued the governess. "It stings and cuts. It's like the breath of an ice-creature; it brings hail and sleet and cold rain that beat down wings and blind the eyes.
"Jimbo, what funny questions you ask!" she said at last, in a husky voice, but trying to smile. "But I want to know," he said. "I must know. I believe you are giving up everything just to save me everything; and I don't want to be saved unless you come too. Tell me!" The colour came back to her cheeks a little, and her eyes grew moist. Again she tried to slip past him, but he prevented her.
"And if you do what I tell you, it will come very soon, I hope." She drew him towards her and kissed him, and though he didn't respond very heartily, he felt he liked it, and was sure that she was good, and meant to do the best possible for him. Jimbo asked nothing more for some time; he turned to the bed where he found a mattress and a blanket, but no sheets, and sat down on the edge and waited.
Jimbo's father was a retired Colonel, who had married late in life, and now lived all the year round in the country; and Jimbo was the youngest child but one. The Colonel, lean in body as he was sincere in mind, an excellent soldier but a poor diplomatist, loved dogs, horses, guns and riding-whips. He also really understood them.
Dare you fly out alone Through the shadows that wave, When the course is unknown And there's no one to save? You are bone of our bone, And for ever His slave!" And, following these words, came from somewhere in the air that voice like the thunder of a river. Jimbo knew only too well to whom it belonged as he listened to the rhyme of the West Wind
Happiness, as of flooding summer sunshine, poured through him. 'He'll come with a rush. Look out! felt Jimbo 'felt' expressing 'thought' and 'said' together, for no single word can convey the double operation thus combined in ordinary life. The reality of it caught him by the throat. 'This, he exclaimed, 'is real and actual. It is happening to me now!
Some part of him, rather, that never slept was disengaging itself with difficulty. He was getting free. Stimulated by his intercourse with the children, this part of him that in boyhood used to be so easily detached, light as air, was getting loose. The years had fastened it in very tightly. Jimbo and Monkey had got at it. And Jimbo and Monkey were in the room at this moment.
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