CHAPTER XXXV. I MAKE DIAMOND'S ACQUAINTANCE
Project Gutenberg EPUB3 edition
MacDonald, George
“It might kill you,” said Jim.
“Oh, no, it mightn't!” said Diamond.
As he spoke there came another great flash, and a tearing crack.
“There's a tree struck!” I said; and when we looked round, after the blinding of the flash had left our eyes, we saw a huge bough of the beech-tree in which was Diamond's nest hanging to the ground like the broken wing of a bird.
“There!” cried Nanny; “I told you so. If you had been up there you see what would have happened, you little silly!”
“No, I don't,” said Diamond, and began to sing to Dulcimer. All I could hear of the song, for the other children were going on with their chatter, was—
The clock struck one, And the mouse came down. Dickery, dickery, dock!
Then there came a blast of wind, and the rain followed in straight-pouring lines, as if out of a watering-pot. Diamond jumped up with his little Dulcimer in his arms, and Nanny caught up the little boy, and they ran for the cottage. Jim vanished with a double shuffle, and I went into the house.
When I came out again to return home, the clouds were gone, and the evening sky glimmered through the trees, blue, and pale-green towards the west, I turned my steps a little aside to look at the stricken beech. I saw the bough torn from the stem, and that was all the twilight would allow me to see. While I stood gazing, down from the sky came a sound of singing, but the voice was neither of lark nor of nightingale: it was sweeter than either: it was the voice of Diamond, up in his airy nest:—
The lightning and thunder, They go and they come; But the stars and the stillness Are always at home.
And then the voice ceased.
“Good-night, Diamond,” I said.
“Good-night, sir,” answered Diamond.
As I walked away pondering, I saw the great black top of the beech swaying about against the sky in an upper wind, and heard the murmur as of many dim half-articulate voices filling the solitude around Diamond's nest.