t　was　fastened　on　the　bush　with　a　long　thorn；　and　in　a　minute　she　knew　Dickon　had　left　it　there。　There　were　some　roughly　printed　letters　on　it　and　a　sort　of　picture。　　At　first　she　could　not　tell　what　it　was。　Then　she　saw　it　was　meant　for　a　nest　with　a　bird　sitting　on　it。　　Underneath　were　the　printed　letters　and　they　said：
  〃I　will　cum　bak。〃
  CHAPTER　XIII
  〃I　AM　COLIN〃
  Mary　took　the　picture　back　to　the　house　when　she　went　to　her　supper　and　she　showed　it　to　Martha。
  〃Eh！〃　said　Martha　with　great　pride。　　〃I　never　knew　our　Dickon　was　as　clever　as　that。　　That　there's　a　picture　of　a　missel　thrush　on　her　nest；　as　large　as　life　an'　twice　as　natural。〃
  Then　Mary　knew　Dickon　had　meant　the　picture　to　be　a　message。　He　had　meant　that　she　might　be　sure　he　would　keep　her　secret。　Her　garden　was　her　nest　and　she　was　like　a　missel　thrush。　Oh；　how　she　did　like　that　queer；　common　boy！
  She　hoped　he　would　come　back　the　very　next　day　and　she　fell　asleep　looking　forward　to　the　morning。
  But　you　never　know　what　the　weather　will　do　in　Yorkshire；　particularly　in　the　springtime。　　She　was　awakened　in　the　night　by　the　sound　of　rain　beating　with　heavy　drops　against　her　window。　　It　was　pouring　down　in　torrents　and　the　wind　was　〃wuthering〃　round　the　corners　and　in　the　chimneys　of　the　huge　old　house。　　Mary　sat　up　in　bed　and　felt　miserable　and　angry。
  〃The　rain　is　as　contrary　as　I　ever　was；〃　she　said。　〃It　came　because　it　knew　I　did　not　want　it。〃
  She　threw　herself　back　on　her　pillow　and　buried　her　face。　She　did　not　cry；　but　she　lay　and　hated　the　sound　of　the　heavily　beating　rain；　she　hated　the　wind　and　its　〃wuthering。〃　She　could　not　go　to　sleep　again。　　The　mournful　sound　kept　her　awake　because　she　felt　mournful　herself。　　If　she　had　felt　happy　it　would　probably　have　lulled　her　to　sleep。　How　it　〃wuthered〃　and　how　the　big　raindrops　poured　down　and　beat　against　the　pane！
  〃It　sounds　just　like　a　person　lost　on　the　moor　and　wandering　on　and　on　crying；〃　she　said。
  She　had　been　lying　awake　turning　from　side　to　side　for　about　an　hour；　when　suddenly　something　made　her　sit　up　in　bed　and　turn　her　head　toward　the　door　listening。　She　listened　and　she　listened。
  〃It　isn't　the　wind　now；〃　she　said　in　a　loud　whisper。　〃That　isn't　the　wind。　　It　is　different。　　It　is　that　crying　I　heard　before。〃
  The　door　of　her　room　was　ajar　and　the　sound　came　down　the　corridor；　a　far…off　faint　sound　of　fretful　crying。　She　listened　for　a　few　minutes　and　each　minute　she　became　more　and　more　sure。　　She　felt　as　if　she　must　find　out　what　it　was。　　It　seemed　even　stranger　than　the　secret　garden　and　the　buried　key。　　Perhaps　the　fact　that　she　was　in　a　rebellious　mood　made　her　bold。　　She　put　her　foot　out　of　bed　and　stood　on　the　floor。
  〃I　am　going　to　find　out　what　it　is；〃　she　said。　　〃Everybody　is　in　bed　and　I　don't　care　about　Mrs。　MedlockI　don't　care！〃
  There　was　a　candle　by　her　bedside　and　she　took　it　up　and　went　softly　out　of　the　room。　　The　corridor　looked　very　long　and　dark；　but　she　was　too　excited　to　mind　that。　She　thought　she　remembered　the　corners　she　must　turn　to　find　the　short　corridor　with　the　door　covered　with　tapestrythe　one　Mrs。　Medlock　had　come　through　the　day　she　lost　herself。　　The　sound　had　come　up　that　passage。　So　she　went　on　with　her　dim　light；　almost　feeling　her　way；　her　heart　beating　so　loud　that　she　fancied　she　could　hear　it。　　The　far…off　faint　crying　went　on　and　led　her。　Sometimes　it　stopped　for　a　moment　or　so　and　then　began　again。　Was　this　the　right　corner　to　turn？　She　stopped　and　thought。　Yes　it　was。　　Down　this　passage　and　then　to　the　left；　and　then　up　two　broad　steps；　and　then　to　the　right　again。　Yes；　there　was　the　tapestry　door。
  She　pushed　it　open　very　gently　and　closed　it　behind　her；　and　she　stood　in　the　corridor　and　could　hear　the　crying　quite　plainly；　though　it　was　not　loud。　　It　was　on　the　other　side　of　the　wall　at　her　left　and　a　few　yards　farther　on　there　was　a　door。　　She　could　see　a　glimmer　of　light　coming　from　beneath　it。　　The　Someone　was　crying　in　that　room；　and　it　was　quite　a　young　Someone。
  So　she　walked　to　the　door　and　pushed　it　open；　and　there　she　was　standing　in　the　room！
  It　was　a　big　room　with　ancient；　handsome　furniture　in　it。　There　was　a　low　fire　glowing　faintly　on　the　hearth　and　a　night　light　burning　by　the　side　of　a　carved　four…posted　bed　hung　with　brocade；　and　on　the　bed　was　lying　a　boy；　crying　fretfully。
  Mary　wondered　if　she　was　in　a　real　place　or　if　she　had　fallen　asleep　again　and　was　dreaming　without　knowing　it。
  The　boy　had　a　sharp；　delicate　face　the　color　of　ivory　and　he　seemed　to　have　eyes　too　big　for　it。　　He　had　also　a　lot　of　hair　which　tumbled　over　his　forehead　in　heavy　locks　and　made　his　thin　face　seem　smaller。　He　looked　like　a　boy　who　had　been　ill；　but　he　was　crying　more　as　if　he　were　tired　and　cross　than　as　if　he　were　in　pain。
  Mary　stood　near　the　door　with　her　candle　in　her　hand；　holding　her　breath。　　Then　she　crept　across　the　room；　and；　as　she　drew　nearer；　the　light　attracted　the　boy's　attention　and　he　turned　his　head　on　his　pillow　and　stared　at　her；　his　gray　eyes　opening　so　wide　that　they　seemed　immense。
  〃Who　are　you？〃　he　said　at　last　in　a　half…frightened　whisper。　〃Are　you　a　ghost？〃
  〃No；　I　am　not；〃　Mary　answered；　her　own　whisper　sounding　half　frightened。　　〃Are　you　one？〃
  He　stared　and　stared　and　stared。　　Mary　could　not　help　noticing　what　strange　eyes　he　had。　　They　were　agate　gray　and　they　looked　too　big　for　his　face　because　they　had　black　lashes　all　round　them。
  〃No；〃　he　replied　after　waiting　a　moment　or　so。　〃I　am　Colin。〃
  〃Who　is　Colin？〃　she　faltered。
  〃I　am　Colin　Craven。　　Who　are　you？〃
  〃I　am　Mary　Lennox。　　Mr。　Craven　is　my　uncle。〃
  〃He　is　my　father；〃　said　the　boy。
  〃Your　father！〃　gasped　Mary。　　〃No　one　ever　told　me　he　had　a　boy！　Why　didn't　they？〃
  〃Come　here；〃　he　said；　still　keeping　his　strange　eyes　fixed　on　her　with　an　anxious　expression。
  She　came　close　to　the　bed　and　he　put　out　his　hand　and　touched　her。
  〃You　are　real；　aren't　you？〃　he　said。　　〃I　have　such　real　dreams　very　often。　　You　might　be　one　of　them。〃
  Mary　had　slipped　on　a　woolen　wrapper　before　she　left　her　room　and　she　put　a　piece　of　it　between　his　fingers。
  〃Rub　that　and　see　how　thick　and　warm　it　is；〃　she　said。　〃I　will　pinch　you　a　little　if　you　like；　to　show　you　how　real　I　am。　　For　a　minute　I　thought　you　might　be　a　dream　too。〃
  〃Where　did　you　come　from？〃　he　asked。
  〃From　my　own　room。　　The　wind　wuthered　so　I　couldn't　go　to　sleep　and　I　heard　some　one　crying　and　wanted　to　find　out　who　it　was。　　What　were　you　crying　for？〃
  〃Because　I　couldn't　go　to　sleep　either　and　my　head　ached。　Tell　me　your　name　again。〃
  〃Mary　Lennox。　　Did　no　one　ever　tell　you　I　had　come　to　live　here？〃
  He　was　still　fingering　the　fold　of　her　wrapper；　but　he　began　to　look　a　little　more　as　if　he　believed　in　her　reality。
  〃No；〃　he　answered。　　〃They　daren't。〃
  〃Why？〃　asked　Mary。
  〃Because　I　should　have　been　afraid　you　would　see　me。　I　won't　let　people　see　me　and　talk　me　over。〃
  〃Why？〃　Mary　asked　again；　feeling　more　mystified　every　moment。
  〃Because　I　am　like　this　always；　ill　and　having　to　lie　down。　My　father　won't　let　people　talk　me　over　either。　The　servants　are　not　allowed　to　speak　about　me。　If　I　live　I　may　be　a　hunchback；　but　I　shan't　live。　My　father　hates　to　think　I　may　be　like　him。〃
  〃Oh；　what　a　queer　house　this　is！〃　Mary　said。　〃What　a　queer　house！　Everything　is　a　kind　of　secret。　Rooms　are　locked　up　and　gardens　are　locked　upand　you！　Have　you　been　locked　up？〃
  〃No。　I　stay　in　this　room　because　I　don't　want　to　be　moved　out　of　it。　　It　tires　me　too　much。〃
  〃Does　your　father　come　and　see　you？〃　Mary　ventured。
  〃Sometimes。　Generally　when　I　am　asleep。　　He　doesn't　want　to　see　me。〃
  〃Why？〃　Mary　could　not　help　asking　again。
  A　sort　of　angry　shadow　passed　over　the　boy's　face。
  〃My　mother　died　when　I　was　born　and　it　makes　him　wretched　to　look　at　me。　　He　thinks　I　don't　know；　but　I've　heard　people　talking。　　He　almost　hates　me。〃
  〃He　hates　the　garden；　because　she　died；〃　said　Mary　half　speaking　to　herself。
  〃What　garden？〃　the　boy　asked。
  〃Oh！　justjust　a　garden　she　used　to　like；〃　Mary　stammered。　〃Have　you　been　here　always？〃　〃Nearly　always。　　Sometimes　I　have　been　taken　to　places　at　the　seaside；　but　I　won't　stay　because　people　stare　at　me。　　I　used　to　wear　an　iron　thing　to　keep　my　back　straight；　but　a　grand　doctor　came　from　London　to　see　me　and　said　it　was　stupid。　　He　told　them　to　take　it　off　and　keep　me　out　in　the　fresh　air。　I　hate　fresh　air　and　I　don't　want　to　go　out。〃
  〃I　didn't　when　first　I　came　here；〃　said　Mary。　　〃Why　do　you　keep　looking　at　me　like　that？〃
  〃Because　of　the　dreams　that　are　so　real；〃　he　answered　rather　fretfully。　　〃Sometimes　when　I　open　my　eyes　I　don't　believe　I'm　awake。〃
  〃We're　both　awake；〃　said　Mary。　　She　glanced　round　the　room　with　its　high　ceiling　and　shadowy　corners　and　dim　fire…light。　〃It　looks　quite　like　a　dream；　and　it's　the　middle　of　the　night；　and　everybody　in　the　house　is　asleepeverybody　but　us。　We　are　wide　awake。〃
  〃I　don't　want　it　to　be　a　dream；〃　the　boy　said　restlessly。
  Mary　thought　of　something　all　at　once。
  〃If　you　don't　like　people　to　see　you；〃　she　began；　〃do　you　want　me　to　go　away？〃
  He　still　held　the　fold　of　her　wrapper　and　he　gave　it　a　little　pull。
  〃No；〃　he　said。　　〃I　should　be　sure