 This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information, or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. This recording is by Mark Smith of Simpsonville, South Carolina. At the Back of the North Wind by George MacDonald Chapter 7 The Cathedral I must not go on describing what cannot be described, for nothing is more wearisome. Before they reached the sea, Diamond felt North Wind's hair just beginning to fall about him. His storm over North Wind? He called out. No, Diamond. I'm only waiting a moment to set you down. You would not like to see the ship sunk, and I am going to give you a place to stop in till I come back for you. Oh, thank you, said Diamond. I shall be sorry to leave you, North Wind, but I would rather not see the ship go down, and I'm afraid the poor people will cry, and I should hear them. Oh, dear! There are a good many passengers on board, and to tell the truth, Diamond, I don't care about your hearing the cry you speak of. I'm afraid you would not get it out of your little head again for a long time. But how can you bear it then, North Wind? For I'm sure you're kind. I shall never doubt that again. I will tell you how I am able to bear it, Diamond. I am always hearing, through every noise, through all the noise I am making myself even, the sound of a far-off song. I do not exactly know where it is, or what it means, and I don't hear much of it, only the odor of its music, as it were, flitting across the great billows of the ocean outside this air in which I make such a storm. But what I do hear is quite enough to make me able to bear the cry from the drowning ship. So it would you if you could hear it. No, it wouldn't, replied Diamond stoutly. For they wouldn't hear the music of the faraway song, and if they did, it wouldn't do them any good. You see, you and I are not going to be drowned, and so we might enjoy it. But you have never heard the song, and you don't know what it is like. Somehow I can't say how. It tells me that all is right, that it is coming to swallow up all cries. But that won't do them any good. The people, I mean, persisted Diamond. It must, it must, said Northwind hurriedly. It wouldn't be the song it seems to be if it did not swallow up all their fear and pain, too, and set them singing it themselves with the rest. I am sure it will. And do you know, ever since I knew I had hair, that is, ever since it began to go out and away, that song has been coming nearer and nearer. Only I must say it was some thousand years before I heard it. But how can you say it was coming nearer when you did not hear it? asked Doubting Little Diamond. Since I began to hear it, I know it is growing louder. Therefore I judge it is coming nearer and nearer until I did hear it first. I'm not so very old, you know, a few thousand years only. And I was quite a baby when I heard the noise first. But I knew it must come from the voices of people ever so much older and wiser than I was. I can't sing it all, except now and then, and I can never tell what my song is going to be. I only know what it is after I have sung it. But this will never do. Will you stop here? I can't see anywhere to stop, said Diamond. Your hair is all down like a darkness, and I can't see through it if I knock my eyes into it ever so much. Look then, said North Wind, and with one sweep of her great white arm she swept yards deep of darkness like a great curtain from before the face of the boy. And lo! it was a blue night, lit up with stars. Where did not shine with stars it shimmered with the milk of the stars, except where, just opposite to Diamond's face, the grey towers of a cathedral blotted out each its own shape of sky and stars. Oh! what's that? cried Diamond, struck with a kind of terror, for he had never seen a cathedral, and it rose before him with an awful reality in the midst of the wide spaces, conquering emptiness with grandeur. A very good place for you to wait in, said North Wind, but we shall go in and you shall judge for yourself. There was an open door in the middle of one of the towers, leading out upon the roof, and through it they passed. Then North Wind set Diamond on his feet, and he found himself at the top of a stone stair which went twisting away down into the darkness for only a little light came in at the door. It was enough, however, to allow Diamond to see that North Wind stood beside him. He looked up to find her face, and saw that she was no longer a beautiful giantess, but the tall, gracious lady he liked best to see. She took his hand, and giving him the broad part of the spiral stair to walk on, led him down a good way. Then, opening another little door, led him out upon a narrow gallery that ran all around the central part of the church, on the ledges of the windows of the Clear Story, and through openings in the parts of the wall that divided the windows from each other. It was very narrow, and except when they were passing through the wall, Diamond saw nothing to keep him from falling into the church. It lay below him like a great silent gulf hollowed in stone, and he held his breath for fear as he looked down. What are you trembling for, little Diamond? said the lady as she walked gently along, with her hand held out behind her leading him, for there was not breath enough for them to walk side by side. I am afraid of falling down there, answered Diamond. It's so deep down. Yes, rather, answered North Wind, but you were a hundred times higher a few minutes ago. Ah, yes, but somebody's arm was about me then, said Diamond, putting his little mouth to the beautiful cold hand that had a hold of his. What a dear little warm mouth you've got, said North Wind. It is a pity you should talk nonsense with it. Don't you know I have a hold of you? Yes, but I'm walking on my own legs, and they might slip. I can't trust myself so well as your arms. But I have a hold of you, I tell you, foolish child. Yes, but somehow I can't feel comfortable. If you were to fall, and my hold of you were to give way, I should be down after you in a less moment than a lady's watch can tick and catch you long before you had reached the ground. I don't like it, though, said Diamond. Oh, oh, oh! He screamed the next moment, bent double with terror, for North Wind had let go her hold of his hand, and had vanished, leaving him standing as if rooted to the gallery. She left the words, come after me, sounding in his ears. But move, he dared not. In a moment more he would from very terror have fallen into the church, but suddenly there came a gentle breath of cool wind upon his face, and it kept blowing upon him in little puffs, and at every puff Diamond felt his faintness going away, and his fear with it. Courage was reviving in his little heart, and still the cool wafs of the soft wind breathed upon him, and the soft wind was so mighty and strong within its gentleness that in a minute Diamond was marching along the narrow ledge as fearless for the time as North Wind herself. He walked on and on, with the windows all in a row on one side of him, and the great empty nave of the church echoing to every one of his brave strides on the other. Until at last he came to a little open door, from which a broader stare led him down and down and down. Till at last all at once he found himself in the arms of North Wind, who held him close to her and kissed him on the forehead. Diamond nestled to her and murmured into her bosom, Why did you leave me, dear North Wind? Because I wanted you to walk alone, she answered. But it's so much nicer here, said Diamond. I dare say, but I couldn't hold a little coward to my heart. It would make me so cold. But I wasn't brave of myself, said Diamond, whom my older readers will have already discovered to be a true child in this, that he was given to metaphysics. It was the wind that blew in my face that made me brave. Wasn't it now, North Wind? Yes, I know that. You had to be taught what courage was, and you couldn't know what it was without feeling it. Therefore it was given you. But don't you feel as if you would try to be brave yourself next time? Yes, I do. But trying is not much. Yes, it is. A very great deal, for it is a beginning. And a beginning is the greatest thing of all. To try to be brave is to be brave. The coward who tries to be brave is before the man who is brave because he has made so, and never had to try. How kind you are, North Wind? I am only just. All kindness is but justice. We owe it. I don't quite understand that. Never mind. You will one day. There is no hurry about understanding it now. Who blew the wind on me that made me brave? I did. I didn't see you. Therefore you can believe me. Yes, yes, of course. But how was it that such a little breath could be so strong? That I don't know. But you made it strong? No. I only blew it. I knew it would make you strong, just as it did the man in the boat, you remember. But how my breath has that power? I cannot tell. It was put into it when I was made. That's all I know. But really, I must be going about my work. Ah, the poor ship! I wish you would stop here and let the poor ship go. That I dare not do. Will you stop here till I come back? Yes, you won't be long? Not longer than I can help. Trust me, you shall get home before the morning. In a moment Northwind was gone, and the next diamond heard a moaning about the church, which grew and grew to a roaring. The storm was up again, and he knew that Northwind's hair was flying. The church was dark. Only a little light came through the windows, which were almost all of that precious old stained glass which is so much lovelier than the new. But Diamond could not see how beautiful they were, for there was not enough of light in the stars to show the colours of them. He could only just distinguish them from the walls. He looked up, but could not see the gallery along which he had passed. He could only tell where it was, far up, by the faint glimmer of the windows of the clear story, whose sills made part of it. The church grew very lonely about him, and he began to feel like a child whose mother has forsaken it. Only he knew that to be left alone is not always to be forsaken. He began to feel his way about the place, and for a little while went wandering up and down. His little footsteps waked little answering echoes in the great house. It wasn't too big to mind him. It was as if the church knew he was there, and meant to make itself his house. So it went on giving back an answer to every step, until at length Diamond thought he should like to say something out loud, and see what the church would answer. But he found he was afraid to speak. He could not utter a word for fear of the loneliness. Perhaps it was as well that he did not, for the sound of a spoken word would have made him feel the place yet more deserted and empty. But he thought he could sing. He was fond of singing, and at home he used to sing to tunes of his own all the nursery rhymes he knew. So he began to try, hey diddle diddle, but it wouldn't do. Then he tried, little boy blew, but it was no better. Neither would sing a song of sixpence sing itself at all. Then he tried, poor old cocky-two, but he wouldn't do. They all sounded so silly, and he had never thought them silly before. So he was quiet, and listened to the echoes that came out of the dark corners in answer to his footsteps. At last he gave a great sigh, and said, I am so tired. But he did not hear the gentle echo that answered from far away over his head, for at the same moment he came against the lowest of a few steps that stretched across the church, and fell down and hurt his arm. He cried a little first, and then crawled up the steps on his hands and knees. At the top he came to a little bit of carpet on which he lay down, and there he lay staring at the dull window that rose nearly a hundred feet above his head. Now this was the eastern window of the church, and the moon was at that moment just on the edge of the horizon. The next she was peeping over it, and lo, with the moon, St. John and St. Paul, and the rest of them, began to dawn in the window in their lovely garments. Diamond did not know that the wonder-working moon was behind, and he thought all the light was coming out of the window itself, and that the good old men were appearing to help him growing out of the night and the darkness, because he had hurt his arm, and was very tired and lonely, and North Wind was so long and coming. So he lay and looked at them backwards over his head, wondering when they would come down, or what they would do next. They were very dim, for the moonlight was not strong enough for the colors, and he had enough to do with his eyes trying to make out their shapes. So his eyes grew tired, and more and more tired, and his eyelids grew so heavy that they would keep tumbling down over his eyes. He kept lifting them and lifting them, but every time they were heavier than the last. It was no use. They were too much for him. Sometimes before he had got them half up, down they were again, and at length he gave it up quite, and the moment he gave it up, he was fast asleep. End of chapter 7 Chapter 8 The East Window That Diamond had fallen fast asleep is very evident from the strange things he now fancied as taking place, for he thought he heard a sound as of whispering up in the great window. He tried to open his eyes, but he could not, and the whispering went on and grew louder and louder until he could hear every word that was said. He thought it was the Apostles talking about him, but he could not open his eyes. And how comes he to be lying there, St. Peter? said one. I think I saw him a while ago up in the gallery under the Nicodemus window. Perhaps he has fallen down. What do you think, St. Matthew? I don't think he could have crept here after falling from such a height. He must have been killed. What are we to do with him? We can't leave him lying there, and we could not make him comfortable up here in the window. It's rather crowded already. What do you say, St. Thomas? Let's go down and look at him. There came a rustling and chinking for some time, and then there was silence, and Diamond felt somehow that all the Apostles were standing round him and looking down on him, and still he could not open his eyes. What is the matter with him, St. Luke? asked one. There is nothing the matter with him, answered St. Luke, who must have joined the company of the Apostles from the next window, one would think. He's in a sound sleep. I have it! cried another. This is one of North Wind's tricks. She has caught him up and dropped him at our door like a withered leaf or a foundling baby. I don't understand that woman's conduct, I must say, as if we hadn't enough to do with our money. Without going, taking care of other people's children, that's not what our forefathers built cathedrals for. Now Diamond could not bear to hear such things against North Wind, who he knew never played anybody a trick. She was far too busy with her own work for that. He struggled hard to open his eyes, but without success. She should consider that a church is not a place for pranks, not to mention that we live in it, said another. It certainly is disrespectful of her, but she always is disrespectful. What right has she to bang at our windows as she has been doing the whole of this night? I daresay there is glass broken somewhere. I know my blue robe is in a dreadful mess with the rain first and the dust after. It will cost me shillings to clean it. Then Diamond knew that they could not be apostles talking like this. They could only be the sextons and vergers and such like, who got up at night and put on the robes of deans and bishops and called each other grand names. As the foolish servants he had heard his father tell of call themselves lords and ladies after their masters and mistresses. And he was so angry at their daring to abuse North Wind that he jumped up crying. North Wind knows best what she is about. She has a good right to blow the cobwebs from your windows, for she is sent to do it. She sweeps them away from grander places, I can tell you, for I've been with her at it. This is what he began to say, but as he spoke his eyes came wide open and behold there were neither apostles nor vergers there, not even a window with the effigies of holy men in it, but a dark heap of hay all about him and the little pains in the roof of his loft glimmering blue in the light of the morning. Old Diamond was coming awake down below in the stable. In a moment more he was on his feet and shaking himself so that young Diamond's bed trembled under him. He's grand at shaking himself, said Diamond. I wish I could shake myself like that, but then I can wash myself and he can't. What fun it would be to see Old Diamond washing his face with his hooves and iron shoes, wouldn't it be a picture? So sane he got up and dressed himself. Then he went out into the garden. There must have been a tremendous wind in the night, for although all was quiet now, there lay the little summer house crushed to the ground. And over it the great elm tree which the wind had broken across, being much decayed in the middle. Diamond almost cried to see the wilderness of green leaves which used to be so far up in the blue air, tossing about in the breeze and liking it best when the wind blew it most, now lying so near the ground and without any hope of ever getting up into the deep air again. I wonder how old the tree is, thought Diamond. It must take a long time to get so near the sky as that poor tree was. Yes, indeed, said a voice beside him, for Diamond had spoken the last words aloud. Diamond started, and looking around saw a clergyman, a brother of Mrs. Coleman who happened to be visiting her. He was a great scholar, and was in the habit of rising early. "'Who are you, my man?' he added. "'Little Diamond,' answered the boy. "'Oh! I have heard of you. How do you come to be up so early?' "'Because the sham apostles talked such nonsense they waked me up.' The clergyman stared. Diamond saw that he had better have held his tongue, for he could not explain things. "'You must have been dreaming, my little man,' said he. "'Dear, dear,' he went on looking at the tree. "'There has been terrible work here. This is the North Wind's doing. What a pity! I wish we lived at the back of it, I'm sure.' "'Where is that, sir?' asked Diamond. "'Away in the Hyperborean regions,' answered the clergyman, smiling. "'I never heard of the place,' returned Diamond. "'I dare say not,' answered the clergyman. "'But if this tree had been there now it would not have been blown down, for there is no wind there.' "'But, please, sir, if it had been there,' said Diamond, "'we should not have had to be sorry for it.' "'Certainly not.' "'Then we shouldn't have had to be glad for it, either.' "'You're quite right, my boy,' said the clergyman, looking at him very kindly as he turned away to the house, with his eyes bent toward the earth. "'But Diamond thought within himself. "'I will ask North Wind next time I see her to take me to that country. I think she did speak about it once before.' End Chapter 8 This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to find out how you can volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. At the Back of the North Wind by George MacDonald. Chapter 9 How Diamond Got to the Back of the North Wind When Diamond went home to breakfast he found his father and mother already seated at the table. They were both busy with their bread and butter and Diamond sat himself down in his usual place. His mother looked up at him and after watching him for a moment said, "'I don't think the boy is looking well, husband.' "'Don't you? Well, I don't know. I think he looks pretty bobbish. How do you feel yourself, Diamond, my boy?' "'Quite well, thank you, father. At least I think I've got a little headache.' "'There, I told you,' said his father and mother both at once. "'The child's very poorly,' added his mother. "'The child's quite well,' added his father, and then they both laughed. "'You see,' said his mother, "'I've had a letter from my sister at Sandwich.' "'Sleepy old hole?' said his father. "'Don't abuse the place. There's good people in it,' said his mother. "'Right, old lady,' returned his father. "'Only I don't believe there are more than two pair of carriage horses in the whole blessed place.' "'Well, people can get to heaven without carriages or coachmen, either, husband. "'Not that I should like to go without my coachmen, you know. But about the boy?' "'What boy?' "'That boy there, staring at you with his goggle eyes.' "'Have I got goggle eyes, mother?' asked Diamond, a little dismayed. "'Not too goggle,' said his mother, who was quite proud of her boy's eyes. "'Only did not want to make him vain.' "'Not too goggle. Only you need not stare so.' "'Well, what about him?' said his father. "'I told you I had got a letter.' "'Yes, from your sister, not from Diamond.' "'Lah, husband, you got out of bed the wrong leg first this morning, I do believe.' "'I'll always get out with both at once,' said his father, laughing. "'Well, listen, then. His aunt wants the boy to go down and see her.' "'And that's why you want to make out that he ain't looking well?' "'No more he is. I think he had better go.' "'Well, I don't care if you can find the money,' said his father. "'I'll manage that,' said his mother, and so it was agreed that Diamond should go to Sandwich.' "'I will not describe the preparation Diamond made. You would have thought he had been going on a three-month voyage. Nor will I describe the journey for our business is now at the place. He was met at the station by his aunt, a cheerful middle-aged woman, and conveyed in safety to the sleepy old town, as his father called it, and no wonder that it was sleepy, for it was nearly dead of old age. Diamond went about staring with his beautiful goggle-eyes at the quaint old streets and the shops and the houses. Everything looked very strange indeed, for here was a town abandoned by its nurse the sea, like an old oyster left on the shore till it gaped for weariness. It used to be one of the five chief seaports in England, but it began to hold itself too high and the consequence was the sea grew less and less intimate with it. Gradually drew back and kept more to itself, till at length it left it high and dry. Sandwich was a seaport no more. The sea went on with its own tight business a long way off and forgot it. Of course it went to sleep and had no more to do with ships. That's what comes to cities and nations and boys and girls who say, I can do without your help, I'm enough for myself. Diamond soon made great friends with an old woman who kept a toy shop, for his mother had given him two pence for pocket money before he left, and he had gone into her shop to spend it, and she got talking to him. She looked very funny because she had not got any teeth, but Diamond liked her and went often to her shop, although he had nothing to spend there after the two pence was gone. One afternoon he had been wandering rather wearily about the streets for some time. It was a hot day and he felt tired. As he passed the toy shop he stepped in. May I please sit down for a minute on this box? he said, thinking the old woman was somewhere in the shop, but he got no answer and sat down without one. Around him were a great many toys of all prices, from a penny up to shillings. All at once he heard a gentle whoring somewhere amongst them. It made him start and look behind him. There were the sails of a windmill going round and round almost close to his ear. He thought at first it must be one of those toys which are wound up and go with clockwork. But no! it was a common penny toy with the windmill at the end of a whistle, and when the whistle blows the windmill goes. But the wonder was that there was no one at the whistle end blowing, and yet the sails were turning round and round, now faster, now slower, now faster again. What can it mean? said Diamond aloud. It means me, said the tiniest voice he had ever heard. Who are you, please? asked Diamond. Well, really, I began to be ashamed of you, said the voice. I wonder how long it will be before you know me, or how often I might take you in before you got sharp enough to suspect me. You are as bad as a baby that doesn't know his mother in a noop on it. Not quite so bad as that, dear North Wind, said Diamond, for I didn't see you at all, and indeed I don't see you yet, although I recognize your voice. Do grow a little, please. Not a hair's breadth, said the voice, and it was the smallest voice that ever spoke. What are you doing here? I've come to see my aunt, but please, North Wind, why didn't you come back for me in the church that night? I did. I carried you safe home, all the time you were dreaming about the glass apostles you were lying in my arms. I'm so glad, said Diamond. I thought that must be it. Only, I wanted to hear you say so. Did you sink the ship then? Yes, and drown everybody? Not quite. One boat got away with six or seven men in it. How could the boat swim when the ship couldn't? Of course I had some trouble with it. I had to contrive a bit, and manage the waves a little. When they're once thoroughly awaked up, I have a good deal of trouble with them sometimes. They're apt to get stupid with tumbling over each other's heads. That's when they're fairly at it. However, the boat got to a desert island before noon next day. And what good will come of that? I don't know. I obey orders. Goodbye. Oh, stay, North Wind! Do stay! cried Diamond, dismayed to see the windmill. Get slower and slower. What is that, my dear child? said the North Wind, and the windmill began turning again so swiftly that Diamond could scarcely see it. What a big voice you've got, and what a noise you do make with it! What is it you want? I have little to do, but that little must be done. I want you to take me to the country at the back of the North Wind. That's not so easy, said North Wind, and was silent for so long that Diamond thought she was gone indeed. But after he had quite given her up, the voice began again. I almost wish Old Herodotus had held his tongue about it, much he knew of it. Why do you wish that, North Wind? Because then that clergyman would never have heard of it, and said to you wanting to go. But we shall see. We shall see. You must go home now, my dear, for you don't seem very well, and I'll see what can be done for you. Don't wait for me. I've got to break a few of Old Goody's toys. She's thinking too much of her new stock. Two or three will do. There, go now. Diamond rose quite sorry, and without a word left the shop, and went home. It soon appeared that his mother had been right about him, for that same afternoon his head began to ache very much, and he had to go to bed. He awoke in the middle of the night. The lattice window of his room had blown open, and the curtains of his little bed were swinging about in the wind. If that should be the North Wind now, thought Diamond, but the next moment he heard someone closing the window. And his aunt came to the bedside. She put her hand on his face and said, How's your head, my dear? Better, Auntie, I think. Would you like something to drink? Oh, yes, I should, please. So his aunt gave him some lemonade, for she had been used to nursing sick people, and Diamond felt very much refreshed and laid his head down again to go very fast asleep. As he thought. And so he did, but only to come awake again, as a fresh burst of wind blew the lattice open a second time. The same moment he found himself in a cloud of North Wind's hair, with her beautiful face set in it like a moon bending over him. Quick, Diamond, she said, I have found such a chance. But I'm not well, said Diamond. I know that, but you will be better for a little fresh air. You shall have plenty of that. You want me to go, then? Yes, I do. It won't hurt you. Very well, said Diamond, and getting out of the bed clothes, he jumped into North Wind's arms. We must make haste before your aunt comes, said she, as she glided out of the open lattice and left it swinging. The moment Diamond felt her arms fold around him, he began to feel better. It was a moonless night and very dark with glimpses of stars when the clouds parted. I used to dash the waves about here, said North Wind, where the cows and sheep are feeding now, but we shall soon get to them. There they are. And Diamond, looking down, saw the white glimmer of breaking water far below him. You see, Diamond, said North Wind, it is very difficult for me to get you to the back of the North Wind, for that country lies in the very North itself, and of course I can't blow a North Word. Why not?" asked Diamond. You little silly, said North Wind. Don't you see that if I were to blow North Word, I should be South Wind, and that is as much as to say that one person could be two persons. But how can you ever get home at all, then? You are quite right. That is my home, though I never get farther than the outer door. I sit on the doorstep and hear the voices inside. I am nobody there, Diamond. I am very sorry. Why, that you should be nobody? Oh, I don't mind it, dear little man. You will be very glad some day to be nobody yourself. But you can't understand that now, and you had better not try. For if you do, you will be certain to go fancy in some egregious nonsense and make yourself miserable about it. Then I won't, said Diamond. There's a good boy. It will all come in good time. But you haven't told me how you get to the doorstep, you know. It is easy enough for me. I have only to consent to nobody, and there I am. I draw into myself, and there I am on the doorstep. But you can see, or you have less sense than I think, that to drag you, you heavy thing, along with me would take centuries, and I could not give the time to it. Oh, I'm so sorry, said Diamond. What for now, Pat? That I'm so heavy for you. I would be lighter if I could, but I don't know how. You silly darling, why I could toss you a hundred miles from me if I liked. It is only when I am going home that I shall find you heavy. Then you are going home with me? Of course. Did I not come to fetch you just for that? But all this time you must be going southward. Yes, of course I am. How can you be taking me northward then? A very sensible question, but you shall see. I will get rid of all a few of these clouds, only they do come up so fast. It's like trying to blow a brook dry. There, what do you see now? I think I see a little boat. Away there, down below. A little boat indeed. Well, she's a yacht of two hundred tons, and the captain of it is a friend of mine, for he is a man of good sense, and can sail his craft well. I've helped him many a time when he little thought it. I've heard him grumbling at me when I was doing the very best I could for him. I've carried him eighty miles a day again and again right north. He must have dodged for that, said Diamond, who had been watching the vessels, and had seen that they went other ways than the wind blew. Of course he must, but don't you see it was the best I could do? I couldn't be south wind, and besides it gave him a share in the business. It is not good at all. Mind that, Diamond, to do everything for those you love and not give them a share in the doing. It's not kind. It's making too much of yourself, my child. If I had been south wind, he would have only smoked his pipe all day and made himself stupid. But how could he be a man of sense and grumble at you when you were doing your best for him? Oh, you must make allowances, said North Wind, or you will never do justice to anybody. You do understand, then, that a captain may sail north. In spite of the north wind, yes," supplemented Diamond, Now I do think you must be stupid, my dear," said North Wind. Suppose the north wind did not blow, where would he be then? Why, then the south wind would carry him. So you think that when the north wind stops the south wind blows? Nonsense. If I didn't blow, the captain couldn't sail his eighty miles a day. No doubt south wind would carry him faster, but south wind is sitting on her doorstep then, and if I stopped there would be dead calm. So you are all wrong to say he can sail north in spite of me. He sails north by my help, and my help alone. You see that, Diamond? Yes, I do, North Wind. I am stupid, but I don't want to be stupid. Good boy, I am going to blow you north in that little craft, one of the finest that ever sailed the sea. Here we are, right over it. I shall be blowing against you, and you will be sailing against me. And all will be just as we want it. The captain won't get on as so fast as he would like, but he will get on, and so shall we. I am just going to put you on board. Do you see in front of the tiller that thing the man is working? Now to one side, now to the other? A round thing, like the top of a drum? Yes, said Diamond. Below that is where they keep their spare sails, and some stores of that sort. I am going to blow that cover off. The same moment I will drop you on the deck, and you must tumble in. Don't be afraid. It is of no depth, and you will fall on sail-cloth. You will find it nice and warm and dry, only dark, and you will know I am near you by every roll and pitch of the vessel. Call yourself up and go to sleep. The yacht shall be my cradle, and you shall be my baby. Thank you, dear North Wind. I am not a bit afraid," said Diamond. In a moment they were on a level with the bulwarks. And North Wind sent the hatch of the after-store rattling away over the deck to Leeward. The next Diamond found himself in the dark, for he had tumbled through the hole as North Wind had told him, and the cover was replaced over his head. Away he went, rolling to Leeward, for the wind began all at once to blow hard. He heard the call of the captain and the loud tramping of the men over his head, as they hauled the mainsheet to get the boom on board, that they might take in a reef in the mainsail. Diamond felt about until he had found what seemed the most comfortable place, and there he snuggled down and lay. Hours after hours a great many of them went by and still Diamond lay there. He never felt in the least tired or impatient, for a strange pleasure filled his heart. The straining of the masts, the creaking of the boom, the singing of the ropes, the banging of the blocks, as they put the vessel about, all fell in with the roaring of the wind above, the surge of the waves past her sides, and the thud with which every now and then one would strike her, while through it all Diamond could hear the gurgling, rippling, talking flow of the water against her planks, as she slipped through it, lying now on this side, now on that, like a subdued air running through the grand music, as North Wind was making about him to keep him from tiring, as they sped on towards a country back of her doorstep. How long this lasted Diamond had no idea. He seemed to fall asleep sometimes, only through the sleep he heard the sounds going on. At length the weather seemed to get worse, the confusion, and trampling a feat grew more frequent over his head, and the vessel lay over more and more on her side, and went roaring through the waves, which banged and thumped at her as if in anger. All at once arose a terrible uproar. The hatch was blown off, a cold fierce wind swept in upon him, and a long arm came with it, which laid hold of him and lifted him out. The same moment he saw the little vessel far below him riding herself, she had taken in all her sails and lay now tossing on the waves, like a sea-bird with folded wings. A short distance to the south lay a much larger vessel with two or three sails set, and toward it North Wind was carrying Diamond. It was a German ship on its way to the North Pole. "'That vessel down there will give us a lift now,' said North Wind, and after that I must do the best I can.' She managed to hide him amongst the flags of the big ship, which were all snugly stowed away, and on and on they sped toward the North. At length one night she whispered in his ear, "'Come on, Deck, Diamond,' and he got up at once and crept on deck. Everything looked very strange. Here and there on all sides were huge masses of floating ice, looking like cathedrals and castles and crags while away beyond was a blue sea. "'Is the sun rising or setting?' asked Diamond. "'Neither, or both, which you please. I can hardly tell which myself. If he is setting now he will be rising the next moment.' "'What a strange light it is,' said Diamond. "'I have heard that the sun doesn't go to bed all the summer in these parts. Miss Coleman told me that. I suppose he feels very sleepy, and that is why the light he sends out looks so like a dream.' "'That will account for it well enough for all practical purposes,' said North Wind. Some of the icebergs were drifting northward. One was passing very near the ship. North Wind seized Diamond and with a single bound lighted on one of them a huge thing with sharp pentacles and great clefts. The same instant the wind began to blow from the south. North Wind hurried Diamond down the north side of the iceberg, stepping by its jags and splinterings, for this burg had never got far enough south to have been melted and smoothed by the summer sun. She brought him to a cave near the water where she entered, and letting Diamond go sat down as if weary on the ledge of ice. Diamond seated himself on the other side, and for a while was enraptured with the color of the air inside the cave. It was a deep, dazzling, lovely blue, deeper than the deepest blue of the sky. The blue seemed to be in constant motion, like the blackness when you press your eyeballs with your fingers. Boiling and sparkling. But when he looked across to North Wind, he was frightened. Her face was worn and livid. "'What is the matter with you, dear North Wind?' he said. "'Nothing much. I feel very faint, but you mustn't mind it, for I can bear it quite well. South Wind always blows me faint. If it were not for the cool of the thick ice between me and her, I should faint altogether. Indeed, as it is, I fear I must vanish.' Diamond stared at her in terror, for he saw that her form and face were growing, not small, but transparent, like something dissolving, not in water, but in light. He could see the side of the blue cave through her very heart, and she melted away till all that was left was a pale face, like the moon in the morning with two great lucid eyes in it. "'I am going, Diamond,' she said. "'Does it hurt you?' asked Diamond. "'It's very uncomfortable,' she answered, but I don't mind it, for I shall come all right again before long. I thought I should be able to go with you all the way, but I cannot. You must not be frightened, though. Just go straight on, and you will come all right. You will find me on the doorstep.' As she spoke, her face faded quite away. Only Diamond thought he could still see her eyes shining through the blue. When he went closer, however, he found that what he thought were her eyes were only two hollows in the ice. North wind was quite gone, and Diamond would have cried if he had not trusted her so thoroughly. So he sat still in the blue air of the cavern, listening to the wash and ripple of the water all about the base of the iceberg, as it sped on and on into the open sea northwards. It was an excellent craft to go with the current, for there was twice as much of it below water as above, but a light south wind was blowing too, and so it went fast. After a little while Diamond went out and sat on the edge of his floating island, and looked down into the ocean beneath him. The white sides of the berg reflected so much light below the water that he could see far down into the green abyss. Sometimes he fancied he saw the eyes of North wind looking up at him from below. But the fancy never lasted beyond the moment of its birth, and the time passed he did not know how, for he felt as if he were in a dream. When he got tired of the green water he went into the blue cave, and when he got tired of the blue cave he went out and gazed all about him on the blue sea, ever sparkling in the sun, which kept wheeling about the sky, never going below the horizon. But he chiefly gazed northward to see whether any land were appearing. All this time he never wanted to eat. He broke off little bits of the berg now and then, and sucked them, and he thought them very nice. At length one time he came out of his cave. He spied far off on the horizon a shiny peak that rose into the sky like the top of some tremendous iceberg, and his vessel was bearing him straight towards it. As it went on the peak rose and rose higher and higher above the horizon, and other peaks rose after it, with sharp edges and jagged ridges connecting them. Diamond thought this must be the place he was going to, and he was right, for the mountains rose and rose till he saw the line of the coast at their feet, and at length the iceberg drove into a little bay, all round which were lofty precipices, with snow on their tops and streaks of ice down their sides. The berg floated slowly up to a projecting rock. Diamond stepped on shore, and without looking behind he began to follow a natural path which led windingly toward the top of the precipice. When he reached it he found himself on a broad table of ice, along which he could walk without much difficulty. Before him at a considerable distance rose a lofty ridge of ice which shot up into fantastic pentacles and towers and battlements. The air was very cold and seemed somehow dead, for there was not the slightest breath of wind. In the center of the ridge before him appeared a gap like the opening of a valley, but as he walked toward it gazing and wondering whether that could be the way he had to take, he saw that what had appeared to be a gap was the form of a woman seated against the ice in front of the ridge, leaning forwards with her hands in her lap and her hair hanging down to the ground. It is the north wind on her doorstep, said Diamond joyfully and hurried up. He soon came up to the place and there the form sat, like one of the great figures at the door of an Egyptian temple, motionless with drooping arms and head. Then Diamond grew frightened because she did not move or speak. He was sure it was north wind, but he thought she must be dead at last. Her face was white as the snow, her eyes were blue as the air and the ice cave, and her hair hung down straight like icicles. She had on a greenish robe like the color of the hollows of a glacier seen from far off. He stood up before her and gazed fearfully into her face for a few minutes before he ventured to speak. At length, with a great effort and a trembling voice, he faltered out. North wind? Well, child, said the form without lifting its head. Are you ill, dear north wind? No, I am waiting. For what? Till I'm wanted. You don't care for me anymore? said Diamond, almost crying now. Yes, I do, only I can't show it. All my love is down at the bottom of my heart, but I feel it bubbling there. What do you want me to do next, dear north wind? said Diamond, wishing to show his love by being obedient. What do you want to do yourself? I want to go into the country at your back. Then you must go through me. I don't know what you mean. I mean just what I say. You must walk on as if I were an open door and go right through me. But that will hurt you. Not in the least. It will hurt you though. I don't mind that, if you tell me to do it. Do it, said north wind. Diamond walked toward her instantly. When he reached her knees he put out his hand to lay it on her, but nothing was there save an intense cold. He walked on. Then all grew white about him, and the cold stung him like fire. He walked on still, groping through the whiteness. It thickened about him. At last it got into his heart, and he lost all sense. I would say that he fainted only whereas in common faints all grows black about you. He felt swallowed up in whiteness. It was when he reached north wind's heart that he fainted and fell. But as he fell he rolled over the threshold and it was thus that Diamond got to the back of the north wind. End Chapter 9 This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. At the back of the north wind by George McDonald, Chapter 10. I have now come to the most difficult part of my story. And why? Because I do not know enough about it. And why should I not know as much about this part as about any other part? For of course I could know nothing about the story except Diamond had told it. And why should Diamond tell about the country at the back of the north wind as well as about his adventures in getting there? Because when he came back he had forgotten a great deal. And what he did remember was very hard to tell. Things there are so different from things here. The people there do not speak the same language for one thing. Indeed Diamond insisted that there they do not speak at all. I do not think he was right. But it may well have appeared so to Diamond. The fact is we have different reports of the place from the most trustworthy people. Therefore we are bound to believe that it appears somewhat different to different people. All, however, agree in a general way about it. I will tell you something of what two very different people have reported, both of whom knew more about it, I believe, than Herodotus. One of them speaks from his own experience for he visited the country, the other from the testimony of a young peasant girl who came back from it for a month's visit to her friends. The former was a great Italian of noble family who died more than five hundred years ago. The latter, a Scotch Shepherd, who died not forty years ago. The Italian, then, informs us that he had to enter that country through a fire so hot that he would have thrown himself into boiling glass to cool himself. This was not Diamond's experience, but then Durante, that was the name of the Italian, and it means lasting, for his books will last as long as there are enough men in the world worthy of having them. Durante was an elderly man, and Diamond was a little boy, and so their experience must be a little different. The peasant girl, on the other hand, fell fast asleep in a wood, and woke in the same country. In describing it, Durante says that the ground everywhere smelt sweetly, and that a gentle, even-tempered wind, which never blew faster or slower, breathed in his face as he went, making all the leaves point one way, not so as to disturb the birds in the tops of the trees, but on the contrary, sounding a bass to their song. He describes also a little river, which was so full that its little waves, as it hurried along, bent the grass full of red and yellow flowers, through which it flowed. He says that the purest stream in the world, beside this one, would look as if it were mixing with something that did not belong to it, even although it was flowing ever in the brown shadow of the trees, and neither sun nor moon could shine upon it. He seems to imply that it is always the month of May in that country. It would be out of place to describe here the wonderful sights he saw, for the music of them is in another key from that of this story, and I shall therefore only add from the account of this traveler that the people there are so free, and so just, and so healthy, that every one of them has a crown, like a king, and a miter, like a priest. The peasant girl, Kilmeni was her name, could not report such grand things as Durante, for, as the shepherd says, telling her story, as I tell diamonds, Kilmeni had been she knew not where, and Kilmeni had seen what she could not declare. Kilmeni had been where the cock never crew, where the rain never fell, and the wind never blew, but it seemed as the harp of the sky had rung, and the airs of heaven played round her tongue, when she spoke of the lovely forms she had seen, and a land where sin had never been, a land of love and a land of light, without in sun or moon or night, where the river swayed a living stream, and the light a pure and cloudless beam, and the land of vision it would seem, and still an everlasting dream. The last two lines are the shepherd's own remark, and a matter of opinion, but it is clear, I think, that Kilmeni must have described the same country as Durante saw, though not having his experience, she could neither understand nor describe it so well. Now I must give you such fragments of recollection as Diamond was able to bring back with him. When he came to himself after he fell, he found himself at the back of the north wind. North wind herself was nowhere to be seen. Neither was there a vestige of snow or of ice within sight. The sun too had vanished, but that was no matter, for there was plenty of a certain still rayless light. Where it came from he never found out, but he thought it belonged to the country itself. Sometimes he thought it came out of the flowers, which were very bright, but had no strong color. He said the river, for all agree that there is a river there, flowed not only through but over grass, its channel instead of being rock, stones, pebbles, sand, or anything else, was of pure meadow grass, not over long. He insisted that if it did not sing tunes in people's ears, it sung tunes in their heads. In proof of which, I may mention that, in the troubles which followed, Diamond was often heard singing, and when asked what he was singing, he would answer one of the tunes the river at the back of the north wind sung. And I may as well say at once that Diamond never told these things to anyone but, no, I had better not say who it was, but whoever it was told me, and I thought it would be well to write them for my child readers. He could not say he was very happy there, for he had neither his father nor mother with him, but he felt so still and quiet and patient and contented that, as far as the mere feeling went, it was something better than mere happiness. Nothing went wrong at the back of the north wind. Neither was anything quite right, he thought. Only everything was going to be right someday. His account disagreed with that of Durante, and agreed with that of Kilmeney. In this, that he protested, there was no wind there at all. I fancy he missed it. At all events, we could not do without wind. It all depends on how big our lungs are, whether the wind is too strong for us or not. When the person he told about it asked whether he saw anybody he knew there, he answered, only a little girl belonging to the gardener, who thought he had lost her, but was quite mistaken, for there she was, safe enough, and was to come back someday, as I came back, if they would only wait. Did you talk to her, Diamond? No, nobody talks there. They only look at each other, and understand everything. Is it cold there? No. Is it hot? No. What is it then? You never think about such things there. What a queer place it must be. It's a very good place. Do you want to go back again? No. I don't think I have left it. I feel it here somewhere. Did the people there look pleased? Yes, quite pleased. Only a little sad. Then they didn't look glad. They looked as if they were waiting to be gladder, someday. This was how Diamond used to answer questions about that country, and now I will take up the story again and tell you how he got back to this country. End of chapter 10. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information, or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. At the Back of the North Wind by George McDonald, chapter 11. How Diamond Got Home Again When one at the back of the North Wind wanted to know how things were going with anyone he loved, he had to go to a certain tree, climb the stem, and sit down in the branches. In a few minutes, if he kept very still, he would see something at least of what was going on with the people he loved. One day, when Diamond was sitting in this tree, he began to long very much to get home again. And no wonder, for he saw his mother crying. Dante says that the people there may always follow their wishes, because they never wish but what is good. Diamond's wish was to get home, and he would feign follow his wish. But how was he to set about it, if he could only see North Wind? But the moment he had got to her back, she was gone altogether from his sight. He had never seen her back. She might be sitting on her doorstep still, looking southwards, and waiting, white and thin and blue-eyed until she was wanted. Or she might have again become a mighty creature, with power to do that which was demanded of her, and gone far away upon many missions. She must be somewhere, however, he could not go home without her, and therefore he must find her. She could never have intended to leave him always away from his mother. If there had been any danger of that, she would have told him, and given him his choice about going. For North Wind was right honest. How to find North Wind, therefore, occupied all his thoughts. In his anxiety about his mother, he used to climb the tree every day, and sit in its branches. However many of the dwellers there did so, they never incommodated one another. For the moment one got into the tree, he became invisible to everyone else, and it was such a widespreading tree that there was room for every one of the people of the country in it, without the least interference with each other. Sometimes, on getting down, two of them would meet at the root, and then they would smile to each other more sweetly than at any other time, as much as to say, ah, you've been up there too. One day he was sitting on one of the outer branches of the tree, looking southward after his home. Far away was a blue shining sea, dotted with gleaming and sparkling specks of white. Those were the icebergs. Nearer he saw a great range of snow-capped mountains, and down below him the lovely meadow grass of the country, with the stream flowing and flowing through it, away towards the sea. As he looked he began to wonder, for the whole country lay beneath him like a map, and that which was near him looked just as small as that which he knew to be miles away. The ridge of ice which encircled it appeared but a few yards off, and no larger than the row of pebbles, with which a child will mark out the boundaries of the kingdom he has appropriated on the seashore. He thought he could distinguish the sapary form of North Wind seated as he had left her, on the other side. Hastily he descended the tree, and to his amazement found that the map or model of the country still lay at his feet. He stood in it. With one stride he had crossed the river. With another he had reached the ridge of ice. With the third he stepped over its peaks and sank wearily down at North Wind's knees. For there she sat on her doorstep. The peaks of the great ridge of ice were as lofty as ever behind her, and the country at her back had vanished from Diamond's view. North Wind was as still as Diamond had left her. Her pale face was white as the snow, and her motionless eyes were as blue as the caverns in the ice. But the instant Diamond touched her, her face began to change, like that of one waking from sleep. Light began to glimmer from the blue of her eyes. A moment more, and she laid her hand on Diamond's head, and began playing with his hair. Diamond took hold of her hand and laid his face to it. She gave a little start. How very alive you are, child, she murmured. Come nearer to me. By the help of the stones all around, he clambered up beside her and laid himself against her bosom. She gave a great sigh, slowly lifted her arms, and slowly folded them about him until she clasped him close. Yet a moment, and she roused herself, and came quite awake, and the cold of her bosom, which had pierced Diamond's bones, vanished. Have you been sitting here ever since I went through you, dear North Wind? Asked Diamond, stroking her hand. Yes, she answered, looking at him with her old kindness. Ain't you very tired? No, I've often had to sit longer. Do you know how long you have been? Oh, years and years, answered Diamond. You have just been seven days, returned North Wind. I thought I had been a hundred years, exclaimed Diamond. Yes, I dare say, replied North Wind, you've been away from here seven days, but how long you may have been in there is quite another thing. Behind my back and before my face, things are so different. They don't go at all by the same rule. I'm very glad, said Diamond, after thinking awhile. Why? asked North Wind. Because I've been such a long time there, and such a little while away from mother. Why, she won't be expecting me home from sandwich yet. No, but we mustn't talk any longer. I've got my orders now, and we must be off in a few minutes. Next moment Diamond found himself sitting alone on the rock. North Wind had vanished. A creature like a great humble bee, or cockchafer, flew past his face. But it could be neither, nor no insects amongst the ice. It passed him again and again, flying in circles around him, and he concluded that it must be North Wind herself. No bigger than Tom Thumb when his mother put him in the nutshell lined with flannel. But she was no longer vapory and thin. She was solid, although tiny. A moment more, and she perched on his shoulder. Come along Diamond, she said in his ear, the smallest and highest of treble voices. It is time we were setting out for sandwich. Diamond could just see her by turning his head towards his shoulder as far as he could, but only with one eye, for his nose came between her and the other. Won't you take me in your arms and carry me? he said in a whisper, for he knew she did not like a loud voice when she was small. Ah, you ungrateful boy! returned North Wind, smiling. How dare you make game of me? Yes, I will carry you, but you shall walk a bit for your impertinence first. Come along. She jumped from his shoulder, but when Diamond looked for her upon the ground, he could see nothing but a little spider with long legs that made its way over the ice towards the south. It ran very fast, indeed, for a spider, but Diamond ran a long way before it, and then waited for it. It was up with him sooner than he had expected, however, and it had grown a great deal. And the spider grew and grew and went faster and faster, till all at once Diamond discovered that it was not a spider, but a weasel. And away glided the weasel, and away went Diamond after it, and it took all the run there was in him to keep up with the weasel. And the weasel grew and grew and grew, till all at once Diamond saw that the weasel was not a weasel, but a cat. And away went the cat, and Diamond after it. And when he had run half a mile, he found the cat waiting for him, sitting up and washing her face, not to lose time. And away went the cat again, and Diamond after it. But the next time he came up with the cat, the cat was not a cat, but a hunting leopard. And the hunting leopard grew to a jaguar, all covered with spots like eyes. And the jaguar grew to a Bengal tiger, and at none of them was Diamond afraid, for he had been at Northwind's back, and he could be afraid of her no longer whatever she did or grew. And the tiger flew over the snow in a straight line for the south, growing less and less to Diamond's eyes, till it was only a black speck upon the whiteness. And then it vanished altogether. And now Diamond felt that he would rather not run any farther, and that the ice had got very rough. Besides, he was near the precipices that bounded the sea. So he slackened his pace to a walk, saying aloud to himself, When Northwind has punished me enough for making game of her, she will come back to me. I know she will, for I can't go much farther without her. You dear boy, it was only in fun. Here I am," said Northwind's voice behind him. Diamond turned and saw her as he liked best to see her, standing beside him, a tall lady. Where's the tiger, he asked, for he knew all the creatures from a picture book that Miss Coleman had given him. But of course, he added, you were the tiger. I was puzzled and forgot. I saw it such a long way off before me. And there you were behind me. It's so odd, you know. It must look odd to you, Diamond. I see that. But it is no more odd to me than to break an old pine in two. Well, that's odd enough, remarked Diamond. So it is. I forgot. Well, none of these things are odder to me than it is to you to eat bread and butter. Well, that's odd too, when I think of it, persisted Diamond. I should just like a slice of bread and butter. I'm afraid to say how long it is, how long it seems to me, that is, since I had anything to eat. Come then, said Northwind, stooping and holding out her arms. You shall have some bread and butter very soon. I am glad to find you want some. Diamond held up his arms to meet hers, and was safe upon her bosom. Northwind bounded into the air. Her tresses began to lift and rise and spread and stream and flow and flutter, and with a roar from her hair and an answering roar from one of the great glaciers beside them, whose slow torrent tumbled two or three icebergs at once into the waves at their feet, Northwind and Diamond went flying southwards. End of CHAPTER XI. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. At the back of the North Wind, by George MacDonald, CHAPTER XII. Who met Diamond at Sandwich? As they flew so fast they went that the sea slid away from under them like a great web of shot silk, blue shot with gray, and green shot with purple. They went so fast that the stars themselves appeared to sail away past them overhead, like golden boats, on a blue sea turned upside down. And they went so fast that Diamond himself went the other way as fast. I mean, he went fast asleep in Northwind's arms. When he woke, a face was bending over him, but it was not Northwind's, it was his mother's. He put out his arms to her, and she clasped him to her bosom, and burst out crying. Diamond kissed her again and again to make her stop. Perhaps kissing is the best thing for crying, but it will not always stop it. What is the matter, Mother, he said? Oh, Diamond, my darling, you have been so ill, she sobbed. No, Mother, dear, I've only been at the back of the Northwind, returned Diamond. I thought you were dead, said his mother. But that moment the doctor came in. Oh, there, said the doctor, with gentle cheerfulness, we're better today, I see. Then he drew the mother aside and told her not to talk to Diamond, or to mind what he might say, for he must be kept as quiet as possible. And indeed, Diamond was not much inclined to talk, for he felt very strange and weak, which was little wonder, seeing that all the time he had been away, he had only sucked on a few lumps of ice, and there could not be much nourishment in them. Now while he is lying there, getting strong again with chicken broth and other nice things, I will tell my readers what had been taking place at his home, for they ought to be told it. They may have forgotten that Miss Coleman was in a very poor state of health. Now there were three reasons for this. In the first place, her lungs were not strong. In the second place, there was a gentleman somewhere who had not behaved very well to her. In the third place, she had not anything particular to do. These three knots together are enough to make a lady very ill indeed. Of course, she could not help the first cause, but if the other two causes had not existed, that would have been of little consequence. She would only have to be a little careful. The second, she could not help quite, but if she had had anything to do, and had done it well, it would have been very difficult for the man to behave badly to her. And for this third cause of her illness, if she had had anything to do that was worth doing, she might have borne his bad behaviour, so that even that would not have made her ill. It is not always easy, I confess, to find something to do that is worth doing, but the most difficult things are constantly being done. And she might have found something if she had tried. Her fault lay in this, that she had not tried. But, to be sure, her father and mother were to blame that they had never set her going. Only then again nobody had told her father and mother that they ought to set her going in that direction. So, as none of them would find it out of themselves, North Wind had to teach them. We know that North Wind was very busy that night, on which she left Diamond in the Cathedral. She had, in a sense, been blowing through and through the Coleman's house the whole of the night. First, Miss Coleman's maid had left a chink of her mistress's window open, thinking she had shut it, and North Wind had wound a few of her hairs round the lady's throat. She was considerably worse the next morning. Again, the ship which North Wind had sunk that very night belonged to Mr. Coleman, nor will my readers understand what a heavy loss this was to him until I have informed them that he had been getting poorer and poorer for some time. He was not so successful in his speculations as he had been, for he speculated a great deal more than was right, and it was time he should be pulled up. It is a hard thing for a rich man to grow poor, but it is an awful thing for him to grow dishonest. And some kinds of speculation lead a man deep into dishonesty before he thinks what he is about. Poverty will not make a man worthless. He may be worth a great deal more when he is poor than he was when he was rich. But dishonesty goes very far indeed to make a man of no value, a thing to be thrown out in the dust hole of the creation, like a bit of a broken basin or a dirty rag. So North Wind had to look after Mr. Coleman and try to make an honest man of him. So she sank the ship, which was his last venture, and he was what himself and his wife and the world called ruined. Nor was this all yet, for on board that vessel Miss Coleman's lover was a passenger. And when the news came that the vessel had gone down and that all on board had perished, we may be sure she did not think the loss of their fine house and garden and furniture the greatest misfortune in the world. Of course the trouble did not end with Mr. Coleman and his family. Nobody can suffer alone when the cause of suffering is most deeply hidden in the heart and nobody knows anything about it but the man himself. He must be a great and a good man indeed, such as few of us have known, if the pain inside him does not make him behave so as to cause all about him to be more or less uncomfortable. But when a man brings money troubles on himself by making haste to be rich, then most of the people he has to do with must suffer in the same way with himself. The elm tree which north wind blew down that very night as if small and great trials were to be gathered in one heap crushed Miss Coleman's pretty summer house. Just so the fall of Mr. Coleman crushed the little family that lived over his coach house and stable. Before Diamond was well enough to be taken home there was no home for him to go to. Mr. Coleman, or his creditors, for I do not know the particulars, had sold house, carriage, horses, furniture, and everything. He and his wife and daughter and Mrs. Crump had gone to live in a small house in Hoxton where he would be unknown and whence he could walk to his place of business in the city. For he was not an old man and hoped yet to retrieve his fortunes. Let us hope that he lived to retrieve his honesty, the tale of which had slipped through his fingers to the very last joint, if not beyond it. Of course Diamond's father had nothing to do for a time, but it was not so hard for him to have nothing to do as it was for Miss Coleman. He wrote to his wife that if her sister would keep her there till he got a place it would be better for them and he would be greatly obliged to her. Meantime the gentleman who had bought the house had allowed his furniture to remain where it was for a little while. Diamond's aunt was quite willing to help them as long as she could and indeed Diamond was not yet well enough to be moved with safety. When he had recovered so far as to be able to go out one day his mother got her sister's husband, who had a little pony cart, to carry them down to the seashore and leave them there for a few hours. He had some business to do further on at Ramsgate and would pick them up as he returned. A whiff of the sea air would do them both good, she said, and she thought besides she could best tell Diamond what had happened if she had him quite to herself. CHAPTER XIII. THE SEASIDE Diamond and his mother sat down upon the edge of the rough grass that bordered the sand. The sun was just far enough past its highest not to shine in their eyes when they looked eastward. A sweet little wind blew on their left side and comforted the mother, without letting her know what it was that comforted her. Before them stretched the sparkling waters of the ocean, every wave of which flashed out its own delight back in the face of the great sun, which looked down from the stillness of its blue house with glorious, silent face upon its flashing children. On each hand the shore rounded outwards, forming a little bay. There were no white cliffs here, as further north and south, and the place was rather dreary, but the sky got at them so much the better. Not a house, not a creature was within sight. Dry sand was about their feet, and under them thin, wiry grass that just managed to grow out of the poverty-stricken shore. Oh, dear, said Diamond's mother with a deep sigh, it's a sad world. Is it, said Diamond? I didn't know. How should you know, child? You've been too well taken care of, I trust. Oh, yes, I have, returned Diamond. I'm sorry. I thought you were taken care of, too. I thought my father took care of you. I will ask him about it. I think he must have forgotten. Dear boy, said his mother, your father's the best man in the world. So I thought, returned Diamond with triumph, I was sure of it. Well, doesn't he take very good care of you? Yes, yes, he does, answered his mother, bursting into tears. But who's to take care of him? And how is he to take care of us if he's got nothing to eat himself? Oh, dear, said Diamond with a gasp. Hasn't he got anything to eat? Oh, I must go home to him. No, no, child, he's not come to that yet. But what's to become of us? I don't know. Are you very hungry, mother? There's the basket. I thought you put something to eat in it. Oh, you darling stupid. I didn't say I was hungry, returned his mother, smiling through her tears. Then I don't understand you at all, said Diamond. Do tell me what's the matter. There are people in the world who have nothing to eat, Diamond. Then I suppose they don't stop in it any longer. They, they what you call die, don't they? Yes, they do. How would you like that? I don't know. I never tried. But I suppose they go where they get something to eat. Like enough they don't want it, said his mother petulantly. That's all right, then, said Diamond, thinking I dare say more than he chose to put in words. Is it, though? Poor boy, how little you know about things. Mr. Coleman's lost all his money, and your father has nothing to do, and we shall have nothing to eat by and by. Are you sure, mother? Sure of what? Sure that we shall have nothing to eat. No, thank heaven, I'm not sure of it. I hope not. Then I can't understand it, mother. There's a piece of gingerbread in the basket, I know. Oh, you little bird, you have no more sense than a sparrow that picks what it wants and never thinks of the winter and the frost and the snow. Ah! Yes, I see. But the birds get through the winter, don't they? Some of them fall dead on the ground. They must die some time. They wouldn't like to be birds always. Would you, mother? What a child it is, thought his mother, but she said nothing. Oh, now I remember Diamond went on. Father told me that day I went to Epping Forest with him that the rosebushes and the maybushes and the hollybushes were the birds' barns, for there were the hips and the haws and the hollyberries all ready for the winter. Yes, that's all very true. So you see, the birds are provided for, but there are no such barns for you and me, Diamond. Ain't there? No, we've got to work for our bread. Then let's go and work, said Diamond, getting up. It's no use. We've not got anything to do. Then let's wait. Then we shall starve. Oh, there's the basket. Do you know, mother, I think I shall call that basket the barn. It's not a very big one, and when it's empty, where are we then? Aunt Auntie's cupboard, returned Diamond promptly, but we can't eat Auntie's things all up and leave her to starve. No, no, we'll go back to Father before that. He'll have found a cupboard somewhere by that time. How do you know that? I don't know it, but I haven't got even a cupboard and I've always had plenty to eat. I've heard you say I had too much, sometimes. But I tell you that's because I've had a cupboard for you, child, and when yours was empty, Auntie opened hers. But that can't go on. How do you know? I think there must be a big cupboard somewhere out of which the little cupboards are filled, you know, mother. Well, I wish I could find the door of that cupboard, said his mother, but the same moment she stopped and was silent for a good while, I cannot tell whether Diamond knew what she was thinking, but I think I know. She had heard something at church the day before, which came back upon her, something like this, that she hadn't to eat for tomorrow, as well as for today, and that what was not wanted couldn't be missed. So instead of saying anything more, she stretched out her hand for the basket, and she and Diamond had their dinner. And Diamond did enjoy it. For the drive and the fresh air had made him quite hungry, and he did not, like his mother, trouble himself about what they should dine off that day week. The fact was he had lived so long without any food at all at the back of the North Wind that he knew quite well that food was not essential to existence, that in fact under certain circumstances people could live without it well enough. His mother did not speak much during their dinner. After it was over she helped him to walk about a little, but he was not able for much and soon got tired. He did not get fretful though. He was too glad of having the sun and the wind again to fret, because he could not run about. He lay down on the dry sand and his mother covered him with a shawl. She then sat by his side and took a bit of work from her pocket, but Diamond felt rather sleepy and turned on his side and gazed sleepily over the sand. A few yards off he saw something fluttering. What is that, mother, he said? Only a bit of paper, she answered. It flutters more than a bit of paper would, I think, said Diamond. I'll go and see if you like, said his mother. My eyes are none of the best. So she rose and went and found that they were both right, for it was a little book, partly buried in the sand. But several of its leaves were clear of the sand and these the wind kept blowing about in a very flutterful manner. She took it up and brought it to Diamond. What is it, mother, he asked? Some nursery rhymes, I think, she answered. I'm too sleepy, said Diamond. Do read some of them to me. Yes, I will, she said, and began one. But this is nonsense, she said again. I will try to find a better one. She turned the leaves, searching, but three times, with sudden puffs, the wind blew the leaves rustling back to the same verses. Do read that one, said Diamond, who seemed to be of the same mind as the wind. It sounded very nice. I am sure it is a good one. So his mother thought it might amuse him, though she couldn't find any sense in it. She never thought he might understand it, although she could not. Now I do not exactly know what the mother read, but this is what Diamond heard, or thought afterwards, that he had heard. He was, however, as I have said, very sleepy. And when he thought he understood the verses, he may have been only dreaming better ones. This is how they went. I know a river whose waters run asleep, run run, ever singing in the shallows dumb, in the hollows sleeping so deep, and all the swallows that dip their feathers in the hollows, or in the shallows, are the merriest swallows of all, for the nests they bake with the clay they cake, with the water they shake from their wings, that rake the water out of the shallows, or the hollows will hold together in any weather, and so the swallows are the merriest fellows and have the merriest children, and are built so narrow like the head of an arrow to cut the air and go just where the nicest water is flowing, and the nicest dust is blowing. For each so narrow like head of an arrow is only a barrow to carry the mud he makes from the nicest water flowing, and the nicest dust that is blowing, to build his nest for her he loves best with the nicest cakes which the sunshine bakes, all for their merri children all so callow with beaks that follow, gaping and hollow, wider and wider after their father or after their mother, the food provider who brings them a spider or a worm, the poor hider, down in the earth so there's no dearth for their beaks as yellow as the buttercups growing beside the flowing of the singing river, always and ever growing and blowing for fast as the sheep, awake or asleep, crop them and crop them they cannot stop them, but up they creep and on they go, blowing and so with the daisies the little white praises they grow and they blow and they spread out their crown and they praise the sun and when he goes down their praising is done and they fold up their crown and they sleep every one till over the plain he's shining a mane and they're at it again praising and praising such low songs raising that no one hears them but the sun who rears them and the sheep that bite them are the quietest sheep awake or asleep with the merriest bleep and the little lambs are the merriest lambs they forget to eat for the frolic in their feet and the lambs and their dams are the whitest sheep with the woolliest wool and the longest wool in the trailingest tails and they shine like snow in the grasses that grow by the singing river that sings forever and the sheep and the lambs are merry forever because the river sings and they drink it and the lambs and the dams are quiet and white because of their diet for what they bite is buttercups yellow and daisies white and grass is green as the river can make it with wind as mellow to kiss it and shake it as never was seen but here in the hollows beside the river where all the swallows are merriest of fellows for the nests they make with the clay they cake and the sunshine bake till they are like bone as dry in the wind as a marble stone so firm they bind the grass and the clay that dries in the wind the sweetest wind that blows by the river flowing forever but never you find whence comes the wind that blows on the hollows and over the shallows where dip the swallows alive it blows the life as it goes awake or asleep into the river that sings as it flows and the life it blows into the sheep awake or asleep with the woolliest wool and the trailingest tails and it never fails gentle and cool to wave the wool and to toss the grass as the lambs and the sheep over it pass and tug and bite with their teeth so white and then with the sweep of their trailing tails smooth it again and it grows amane and amane it grows and the wind as it blows tosses the swallows over the hollows and down on the shallows till every feather doth shake and quiver and all their feathers go all together blowing the life and the joy so writhe into the swallows that skim the shallows and have the yellowest children for the wind that blows is the life of the river flowing forever that washes the grasses still as it passes and feeds the daisies the little white praises and buttercups bonnie so golden and sunny with butter and honey that whiten the sheep awake or asleep that nibble and bite and grow whiter than white and marry and quiet on the sweet diet fed by the river and tossed forever by the wind that tosses the swallow that crosses over the shallows dipping his wings to gather the water and bake the cake that the wind shall make as hard as a bone as dry as a stone it's all in the wind that blows from behind and all in the river that flows forever and all in the grasses and the white daisies and the merry sheep awake or asleep and the happy swallows skimming the shallows and it's all in the wind that blows from behind here diamond became aware that his mother had stopped reading why don't you go on mother dear he asked it's such nonsense said his mother I believe it would go on forever that's just what it did said diamond what did she asked why the river that's almost the very tune it used to sing his mother was frightened for she thought the fever was coming on again so she did not contradict him who made that poem asked diamond I don't know she answered some silly woman for her children I suppose and then she thought it good enough to print she must have been at the back of the north wind sometime or other anyhow said diamond she couldn't have got a hold of it anywhere else that's just how it went and he began to chant bits of it here and there but his mother said nothing for fear of making him worse and she was very glad indeed when she saw her brother-in-law jogging along in his little cart they lifted diamond in and got up themselves and away they went home again home again home again as diamond sang but he soon grew quiet and before they reached sandwich he was fast asleep and dreaming of the country at the back of the north wind end of chapter 13 this is a LibriVox recording all LibriVox recordings are in the public domain for more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org at the back of the north wind by George McDonald chapter 14 Old Diamond after this diamond recovered so fast that in a few days he was quite able to go home as soon as his father had a place for them to go now his father having saved a little money and finding that no situation offered itself had been thinking over a new plan a strange occurrence it was which turned his thoughts in that direction he had a friend in the Bloomsbury region who lived by letting out cabs and horses to the cab men this man, happening to meet him one day as he was returning from an unsuccessful application said to him why don't you set up for yourself now in the cab line I mean I haven't enough for that answered Diamond's father you must have saved a goodish bit I should think just come home with me now and look at a horse I can let you have cheap I bought him only a few weeks ago thinking he'd do for a handsome but I was wrong he's got bone enough for a wagon but a wagon ain't a handsome he ain't got go enough for a handsome you see parties as takes handsoms want to go like the wind and he ain't got wind enough for he ain't so young as he once was but for a four-wheeler as takes families and their luggage he's the very horse he'd carry a small house any day I bought him cheap and I'll sell him cheap oh I don't want him said Diamond's father a body must have time to think over an affair of so much importance and there's the cab too that would come to a deal of money I could fit you there I dare say but come and look at the animal anyhow since I lost my own old pair as was Mr. Coleman's said Diamond's father turning to accompany the cab master I ain't almost got the heart to look a horse in the face it's a thousand pitties to part man and horse so it is returned his friend sympathetically but what was the ex-coachman's delight when I'm going into the stable where his friend led him he found the horse he wanted him to buy was no other than his old diamond grown very thin and bony and long-legged as if they had been doing what they could to fit him for handsome work he ain't a handsome horse said Diamond's father indignantly well you're right he ain't handsome but he's a gooden said his owner who says he ain't handsome he's one of the handsomest horses a gentleman's coachman ever drove said Diamond's father remarking to himself under his breath though I says it as shouldn't for he did not feel inclined all at once to confess that his own old horse could have sunk so low well said his friend all I say is there's an animal for you as strong as a church and I'll go like a train least away as a parley he added correcting himself but the coachman had a lump in his throat and tears in his eyes and his voice had turned his long neck and when his old friend went up to him and laid his hand on his side he winnied for joy and laid his big head on his master's breast this settled the matter the coachman's arms were round the horse's neck in a moment and he fairly broke down and cried the cadmaster had never been so fond of a horse himself as to hug him like that but he saw in a moment how it was and he must have been a good-hearted fellow for I never heard of such an idea coming into the head of any other man with a horse to sell instead of putting something on to the price because he was now pretty sure of selling him he actually took a pound off what he had meant to ask for him saying to himself it was a shame to part old friends Diamond's father as soon as he came to himself turned and asked how much he wanted for the horse I see your old friends said the owner it's my own old Diamond I liked him far the best of the pair though the other was good you ain't got him too have you no nothing in the stable to match him there I believe you said the coachman but you'll be wanting a long price for him I know no not so much I bought him cheap and as I said he ain't for my work the end of it was that Diamond's father bought old Diamond again along with a four-wheeled cab and as soon as there were some rooms to be had over the stable he took them wrote to his wife to come home and set up as a cabman End of Chapter 14 Chapter 15 The Muse This is a LibriVox recording All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain For more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org Recording by Sean McGahey ducktapeguy.net At the back of the North Wind by George McDonald Chapter 15 The Muse It was late in the afternoon when Diamond and his mother and the baby reached London I was so full of Diamond that I forgot to tell you a baby had arrived in the meantime His father was waiting for them with his own cab but they had not told Diamond who the horse was for his father wanted to enjoy the pleasure of his surprise when he found it out He got in with his mother without looking at the horse and his father having put up Diamond's carpet bag and his mother's little trunk got upon the box himself and drove off and Diamond was quite proud of riding home in his father's own carriage But when he got to the Muse he could not help being a little dismayed at first and if he had never been to the back of the North Wind I am afraid he would have cried a little But instead of that he said to himself it was a fine thing all the old furniture was there and instead of helping his mother to be miserable at the change he began to find out all the advantages of the place for every place has some advantages and they are always better worth knowing than the disadvantages Certainly the weather was depressing for a thick dull persistent rain was falling by the time they reached home but happily the weather is very changeable and besides there was a good fire burning in the room which their neighbor with the drunken husband had attended to for them and the tea things were put out and the kettle was boiling on the fire and with a good fire and tea and bread and butter things cannot be said to be miserable Diamond's father and mother were notwithstanding rather miserable and Diamond began to feel a kind of darkness beginning to spread over his own mind but the same moment he said to himself this will never do I can't give in to this I've been to the back of the North Wind things go right there so I must try to get things to go right here I've got to fight the miserable things they shan't make me miserable if I can help it I do not mean that he thought these very words they are perhaps too grown up for him to have thought but they represent the kind of thing that was in his heart and his head and when heart and head go together nothing can stand before them what nice bread and butter this is said Diamond I'm glad you like it my dear said his father I bought the butter myself in a little shop round the corner it's very nice thank you father oh there's baby waking I'll take him sit still Diamond said his mother go on with your bread and butter you are not strong enough to lift him yet so she took the baby herself and set him on her knee then Diamond began to amuse him and went on till the little fella was shrieking with laughter and the world was his mother's arms and the drizzling rain and the dreary muse and even his father's troubled face could not touch him what cared baby for the loss of a hundred situations yet neither father nor mother thought him hard hearted because he crowed and laughed in the middle of their troubles on the contrary his crowing and laughing were infectious his little heart was so full of merriment it could not hold at all and it ran over into theirs father and mother began to laugh too and Diamond laughed till he had a fit of coughing which frightened his mother and made them all stop his father took the baby and his mother put him to bed but it was indeed a change to them all not only from sandwich but from their old place instead of the great river where the huge barges with their mighty brown and yellow sails went tacking from side to side like little pleasure gifts and where the long thin boat shot past with eight and sometimes twelve rowers their windows now looked out upon a dirty paved yard and there was no garden more for Diamond to run into when he pleased with gay flowers about his feet and solemn sun-filled trees over his head neither was there a wooden wall at the back of his bed and there was only a minute for North Wind to come in at when she liked indeed there was such a high wall and there were so many houses about the muse that North Wind seldom got into the place at all except when something must be done and she had a grand cleaning out like other housewives while the partition at the head of Diamond's new bed only divided it from the room occupied by a cabman who drank too much beer and quarreled with his wife and pinched his children it was dreadful to Diamond to hear the scolding and the crying but it could not make him miserable because he had been at the back of the North Wind if my reader find it hard to believe that Diamond should be so good he must remember that he had been to the back of the North Wind if he never knew a boy so good did he ever know a boy that had been to the back of the North Wind it was not in the least strange of Diamond to behave as he did on the contrary it was thoroughly sensible of him we shall see how he got on End of Chapter 15