CHAPTER FIVE

THE STRANGE CRY

At first, each day at Misselthwaite Manor was exactly the same. Mary woke up each morning and ate her breakfast in front of the fire with Martha. She stared out of the window at the wide, brown moor. Finally she would realize that if she didn't go outside, she would have to stay in and do nothing. So she went out. She did not know that this was the best thing for her. When she began to walk or run around the gardens and paths, she was making herself stronger. The wind, which was very cold, fresh, and strong, put color in her cheeks and brightened her eyes. Mary hated the wind,and she ran only to make herself warmer.But she was becoming a little healthier, just by staying outside.

After a few days of being outside all day, Mary woke up in the morning feeling really hungry for the first time. When she sat down to her breakfast, she ate all of it. "You liked that this morning, didn't you?" said Martha with surprise.

"It tastes nice today," said Mary. She felt a little surprised herself.

"It's the fresh air that's giving you an appetite. You're lucky you have food, now that you're hungry. There's twelve children in our house, who are hungry but don't have much food. Keep on playing outside every day. You'll gain some weight and you won't be so thin and yellow."

"I don't play," said Mary. "I have no toys to play with."

"Of course you do!" said Martha. "Our children play with sticks and stones. They just run around and shout and look at things."

Mary didn't run and shout, but she looked at things. She walked around the gardens and the other places on the property. Sometimes she looked for Ben Weatherstaff, but he was often busy with his gardening work. Either that, or he was just too cross.

There was one place Mary went to more often than any other. It was a path outside the walled gardens. There were thick vines on the walls. Mary noticed that in one area, the vines were especially thick, as if no one had cut them for a long time. A few days after she talked to Ben Weatherstaff, Mary had noticed this. She wondered why this was. Suddenly she heard the sound of a bird. She looked up. The robin was sitting on top of the wall, looking at her.

"Oh!" she cried. "Is it you? Is it you?" It seemed that he really understood her. The robin hopped along the wall and sang, as if he were talking to her. Mary began to laugh, and run along the wall next to the little bird. As she ran and laughed, she looked almost pretty. "I like you! I like you!" she cried. She tried to whistle and sing like the robin. She didn't really know how to sing like a bird. But the robin didn't seem to mind; he sang back to her.

Suddenly the robin flew up to a tree behind one of the walls. Mary realized that it was the same tree she had seen the day she met Ben Weatherstaff. It was the tree behind the mysterious wall.

"That tree is in the garden no one can enter," Mary said. "The robin lives in the garden without a door. I wish I could go inside and see it!"

For a moment, Mary watched the robin sitting in the tree. Then she ran all around the walls. She ran through the orchard gardens and felt along the walls, looking for a door. But she couldn't find one.

"It really seems as if there is no door," said Mary out loud. "But there was a door ten years ago, because Martha said that Mr Craven threw away the key."

The mystery of the garden gave Mary something to think about. She began to feel glad that she had come to Misselthwaite Manor. In India, she had always been too hot and bored to care about things. But now that she was outside in the fresh, cold air, her mind and body felt a little better.

Mary stayed outside all day. When she went inside, she felt hungry and tired, but good. She sat down to eat dinner, and ate everything on her plate. She did not feel angry when Martha talked to her. Mary felt it was nice to hear her talk.

"Why did Mr Craven hate the garden?" Mary asked her. She had finished dinner and was sitting by the fireplace.

Martha smiled. "Are you still thinking about that garden?" she asked. "I knew you would. I was the same way, when I first arrived here." She sat down and made herself comfortable.

"Now listen," Martha said. "Mrs Medlock said that we cannot talk about it. There are a lot of secrets in this house; lots of things we can't talk about. That's Mr Craven's orders. He doesn't want servants talking about his problems. The truth is that Mr Craven wouldn't be like he is today, if it wasn't for that garden. The garden was Mrs Craven's. She had the garden made, and she loved it. She and Mr Craven used to go into the garden, shut the door, and not come out for hours. Well, in the garden there was a rose tree with a branch that looked just like a chair. Mrs Craven liked to sit in this tree and read. One day, she was sitting there and the branch broke, and she fell. She was hurt very badly, and the next day she died. The doctors thought Mr Craven would go crazy and die too. His wife was the only person he had ever loved. That's why he hates the garden. He shut the door and locked it. Then he threw away the key."

Mary didn't ask any more questions. At that moment, a good thing was happening to her. She was thinking about this sad story, and she realized that she did feel sorry for her uncle. He hadn't had a very happy life.

The wind was very loud, but suddenly Mary thought that she heard something else, besides the wind. It sounded just like a child crying. Mary knew that sometimes the wind made a sound like someone crying. But as she listened to the sound, she felt sure that it came from inside the house, not outside.

"Do you hear anyone crying?" Mary asked Martha.

Martha looked uncomfortable. "It's just the wind," she said. "The wind makes that sound. It's nothing."

Someone must have left a window open in the house. But at that moment, the door to Mary's sitting room opened with a loud noise. Mary could hear the crying quite loudly now. It sounded just like a child! "There! Don't you hear it?" she said.

Martha ran to close the door. "It was the wind," she said. "Or maybe it's Betty, one of the maids. She's had a toothache all day." She didn't look at Mary.

Mary stared at Martha. She did not believe that she was telling the truth.

(end of section)