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Updated: June 24, 2025
My orders are that no one is to know that we come here. Dickon and my cousin have worked and made it come alive. I shall send for you sometimes to help but you must come when no one can see you." Ben Weatherstaff's face twisted itself in a dry old smile. "I've come here before when no one saw me," he said. "What!" exclaimed Colin. "When?"
Ben Weatherstaff's head had just dropped forward and he lifted it with a jerk. "You have been asleep," said Colin. "Nowt o' th' sort," mumbled Ben. "Th' sermon was good enow but I'm bound to get out afore th' collection." He was not quite awake yet. "You're not in church," said Colin. "Not me," said Ben, straightening himself. "Who said I were? I heard every bit of 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.
The coming of Dickon and how it had been told to him, the doubt of Mester Colin and the final drama of his introduction to the hidden domain, combined with the incident of Ben Weatherstaff's angry face peering over the wall and Mester Colin's sudden indignant strength, made Mrs. Sowerby's nice-looking face quite change color several times. "My word!" she said.
Never yet had he been accused of crooked legs even in whispers and the perfectly simple belief in their existence which was revealed by Ben Weatherstaff's voice was more than Rajah flesh and blood could endure. His anger and insulted pride made him forget everything but this one moment and filled him with a power he had never known before, an almost unnatural strength.
"Man!" they both cried in low quick voices. Colin pointed to the high wall. "Look!" he whispered excitedly. "Just look!" Mary and Dickon wheeled about and looked. There was Ben Weatherstaff's indignant face glaring at them over the wall from the top of a ladder! He actually shook his fist at Mary. "If I wasn't a bachelder, an' tha' was a wench o' mine," he cried, "I'd give thee a hidin'!"
That's same as sayin' 'Here I am. Look at me. I wants a bit of a chat. There he is in the bush. Whose is he?" "He's Ben Weatherstaff's, but I think he knows me a little," answered Mary. "Aye, he knows thee," said Dickon in his low voice again. "An' he likes thee. He's took thee on. He'll tell me all about thee in a minute."
She went to her walk outside the long, ivy-covered wall over which she could see the tree-tops; and the second time she walked up and down the most interesting and exciting thing happened to her, and it was all through Ben Weatherstaff's robin.
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.
Dickon stood quite still and put his hand on Mary almost as if they had suddenly found themselves laughing in a church. "We munnot stir," he whispered in broad Yorkshire. "We munnot scarce breathe. I knowed he was mate-huntin' when I seed him last. It's Ben Weatherstaff's robin. He's buildin' his nest. He'll stay here if us don't flight him."
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