The Hidden Garden
a retelling of The Secret Garden
edited by Jane Mouttet
Chapter 13 – A New Friend
Mary took Dickon’s note back to the house after supper and showed it to Martha. It had a picture drawn on it.
“Oh!” said Martha, beaming with pride. “I never knew our Dickon was that clever. That’s a picture of a missel thrush on her nest, just like real!”
Mary realized that Dickon had meant the picture as a message. He was telling her he would keep her secret. The secret garden was like her nest, and she was like the missel thrush. She liked Dickon even more after that.
She hoped he would return the next day, and thinking about it excited her as she fell asleep. But in Yorkshire, especially in spring, you never know what the weather will be like. That night, Mary was awakened by the sound of rain pouring down in heavy drops on her window. The wind howled around the corners of the big, old house. Mary sat up, feeling angry and miserable.
“The rain knows I don’t want it!” she said, burying her face in her pillow. She didn’t cry but hated the sound of the rain and wind.
She lay there, turning over and over, unable to fall asleep. The rain beat harder against the window, and the wind howled like someone lost out on the moor. Mary listened, and suddenly, something made her sit up again. She heard something else. It wasn’t the wind; it was different. She had heard it before—it was crying.
“The crying,” she whispered. “It’s the same crying I heard before.”
The door to her room was slightly open, and the sound came from the hallway. It was faint, but it was definitely crying. Mary listened for a few more minutes, and she became more certain each minute. She felt like she had to find out what it was. She was in such a stubborn mood that she wasn’t afraid.
“I don’t care if Mrs. Medlock catches me,” she said. “I’m going to find out.”
She grabbed the candle by her bedside and tiptoed out of her room. The hallway was long and dark, but Mary was too excited to be scared. She remembered where the crying had come from before—down the short corridor with the tapestry door. Mrs. Medlock had come through there when Mary had gotten lost. Mary’s heart beat loudly as she followed the sound. The crying stopped every now and then, but then started again.
She reached the tapestry door, opened it quietly, and stepped inside. The crying was louder now. It was coming from the other side of the wall to her left. She walked toward a door where a faint light glowed underneath. The crying was definitely coming from that room. It sounded like a young boy crying.
Mary pushed the door open and was in the room where the crying was coming from!
It was a big room with beautiful old furniture. A small fire was glowing in the fireplace, and a nightlight was by the side of a tall bed with heavy curtains. On the bed lay a boy, crying softly.
Mary couldn’t believe what she was seeing. The boy looked pale, with delicate features and big eyes. His messy hair tumbled over his forehead. He didn’t look well, but he didn’t seem to be crying because of pain. He looked more tired and upset than anything.
Mary stood there, holding her breath, her candle flickering. Then, slowly, she crept closer. The light from the candle made the boy turn his head, and his big gray eyes stared at her in shock.
“Who are you?” he asked in a half-scared whisper. “Are you a ghost?”
“No, I’m not a ghost,” Mary whispered back, feeling just as scared. “Are you a ghost?”
The boy kept staring at her with his strange, big eyes.
“No,” he said after a moment. “I’m Colin.”
“Colin?” Mary whispered. “Who’s Colin?”
“I’m Colin Craven. Who are you?”
“I’m Mary Lennox,” Mary said. “Mr. Craven is my uncle.”
“He’s my father,” Colin said quietly.
“Your father!” Mary gasped. “No one ever told me he had a boy!”
“Come here,” Colin said, still staring at her with wide, curious eyes.
Mary walked closer, and Colin reached out his hand to touch her.
“Are you real?” he asked. “I have dreams that feel so real, I can’t tell the difference.”
Mary held out her sleeve for him to feel. “Touch my sleeve—it’s real. I’m not a dream. For a moment, I thought you might be a dream, too.”
“Where did you come from?” Colin asked, still looking surprised.
“From my room,” Mary said. “The wind was so loud, I couldn’t sleep. Then I heard crying, so I came to see who it was. Why were you crying?”
“Because I couldn’t sleep either, and my head hurts,” Colin said. “What’s your name again?”
“Mary Lennox,” she replied. “Didn’t anyone tell you I came to live here?”
“No,” Colin answered. “They didn’t tell me because they feared I’d be upset. I don’t let people see me or talk about me.”
“Why not?” Mary asked, growing more curious.
“Because I’m always sick,” Colin said, his voice turning sad. “I have to lie down all the time. My father doesn’t want people talking about me. If I grow up, I might be a hunchback, but I don’t think I’ll live.”
“Oh, what a strange house this is!” Mary said, shaking her head. “Everything is a secret or hidden—gardens, rooms, and now you!”
“Yes,” Colin said. “I stay in this room because it’s too tiring to be moved.”
“Does your father come to see you?” Mary asked.
“Sometimes, but usually when I’m asleep. Father doesn’t like to look at me.”
“Why?” Mary asked again.
Colin’s face darkened. “My mother died when I was born. He hates seeing me because I remind him of her.”
“He hates the garden, too,” Mary muttered. “Because she died.”
“What garden?” Colin asked.
“Oh, just a garden she used to like,” Mary said quickly, not wanting to discuss the hidden garden.
Colin lay back on his pillow. “I used to wear a brace to straighten my back, but a doctor from London said it was useless and told them to take it off. I hate going outside anyway.”
“I didn’t like going outside either when I first got here,” Mary said.
Colin stared at her. “You know, I still can’t believe you’re real. Sometimes, I wake up and think I’m still dreaming.”
“We’re both awake, “Mary said. “It’s the middle of the night, and everyone in the house is asleep—except us.”
Colin looked at her, then gave a small smile. “If you’re real, then sit down and talk. I want to hear more about you.”
Mary sat on a footstool beside his bed, glad to have someone to talk to. Colin asked her all kinds of questions—how long she’d been at Misselthwaite, where her room was, what she did every day, and if she liked the moor. Mary answered everything and told him about India and her long journey to England.
Colin listened quietly, and soon, his eyes began to grow sleepy. But then he suddenly asked, “How old are you?”
“I’m ten,” Mary answered. “And so are you.”
“How do you know?” Colin asked, sounding surprised.
“Because when you were born, the garden door was locked and the key was buried. That was ten years ago.”
Colin sat up, looking excited. “What garden door? Where’s the key buried?”
“It’s a garden your father locked up, “Mary said nervously. “So no one’s been in it for ten years.”
Colin’s eyes lit up. “I want to see it!” he said. “I want to find the key and open the door!”
Mary’s heart sank. “No!” she cried. “If you make people open it, it won’t be hidden anymore!”
“Hidden?” Colin asked, intrigued. “Tell me!”
Mary explained how they could keep the garden hidden just for the two of them. They could find the door, slip inside, and care for it without anyone knowing. They could pretend the garden was their nest, like the missel thrush.
Colin’s eyes sparkled. “A hidden garden! I’ve never had a secret before.”
“If you don’t make people open the door,” Mary said, “Maybe we could find a way to get in ourselves. Then we could visit the garden and watch everything grow.”
“I’d like that,” Colin said, his voice growing sleepy again. “I’d like a secret, hidden garden.”
Mary felt relieved. She was sure that if she kept describing the hidden garden, Colin would love the idea of keeping it secret.
She told him about the roses, the birds, and the robin who visited the garden. Colin smiled and listened, looking almost happy. Mary realized that, for the first time, she was glad to be talking to someone.
“I didn’t know birds could be like that,” Colin said. “You know so much.”
Then, he gave her a surprise. “I’m going to show you something,” he said. “See that curtain over there? Pull the cord.”
Mary pulled the cord, revealing a painting of a beautiful woman with bright hair and gray eyes.
“She’s my mother,” Colin said sadly. “I don’t know why she had to die.”
Mary stared at the picture. “She’s prettier than you,” she said honestly, “But her eyes are just like yours.”
Colin nodded. “Sometimes, I don’t like seeing her smile when I’m sick. That’s why I keep the curtain drawn.”
After a quiet moment, Mary asked, “What would Mrs. Medlock do if she found out I was here?”
Colin smiled. “She’ll do what I tell her to. I want you to come talk to me every day.”
Mary smiled back. “I’ll come as often as I can, but I have to look for the garden door, too.”
“Yes,” Colin said. “And you can tell me about it afterward.”
He yawned and closed his eyes. “I wish I could go to sleep now,” he said.
“I’ll help you,” Mary said, sitting closer. “I’ll pat your hand like my Ayah did in India and sing softly.”
Colin relaxed as Mary patted his hand and sang a gentle song. Soon, his breathing slowed, and he fell fast asleep.
Mary got up quietly, took her candle, and tiptoed out of the room, feeling pleased that she had made a new friend.
Chapter 14 – A Visit with Colin
The moor was covered in mist when morning came, and the rain kept pouring down. There was no chance of going outside. Martha was so busy that Mary couldn’t talk to her until the afternoon. When she finally got a chance, she asked Martha to sit with her in the nursery. Martha came in with her knitting, as she always did when she had nothing else to do.
“What’s the matter with you?” Martha asked as soon as they sat down. “You look like you’ve got something to say.”
“I have,” said Mary, excitedly. “I found out what the crying was.”
Martha dropped her knitting and stared at Mary, looking startled. “No way! You didn’t!”
“I did!” Mary said. “I heard it last night and got up to see where it was coming from. It was Colin. I found him.”
Martha’s face turned red with fear. “Oh no, Miss Mary! You shouldn’t have done that! You’ll get me in trouble! I never told you about him, but if anyone finds out, I’ll lose my job, and what will my mother do?”
“You won’t lose your job,” Mary said firmly. “He was glad I found him. We talked, and he said he was happy I came.”
“Was he really?” Martha cried in disbelief. “Are you sure? You don’t know how he can be when he’s upset. He’s a big boy, but he cries like a baby sometimes. And when he’s mad, he screams so loud it frightens everyone.”
“He wasn’t upset,” Mary said. “I asked if I should go, but he made me stay. He asked me questions, and I told him about India, the robin, and gardens. He wouldn’t let me leave, and before I left, I even sang him to sleep.”
Martha gasped, hardly able to believe what she was hearing. “It’s like you walked into a lion’s den! If he’d been in one of his moods, he would’ve thrown a fit and woken the whole house. He doesn’t let anyone look at him!”
“He let me look at him,” Mary said. “We stared at each other for a long time.”
“I don’t know what to do!” Martha said, wringing her hands. “If Mrs. Medlock finds out, she’ll think I told you and send me back home.”
“Colin doesn’t want anyone to know yet,” Mary explained. “He says it’s going to be a secret for now. And he says everyone has to do what he says.”
“Well, that’s true enough,” Martha sighed, wiping her forehead with her apron. “He gets his way in everything.”
“He says Mrs. Medlock has to do what he wants, and told me to talk to him daily. You’re supposed to tell me when he wants to see me.”
“Me?” Martha gasped. “I’ll lose my place for sure!”
“You won’t lose your place if you’re doing what Colin wants,” Mary reasoned. “Everyone has to obey him.”
Martha stared at her wide-eyed. “Was he really nice to you?”
“I think he almost liked me,” Mary said.
“Then you must’ve enchanted him!” Martha exclaimed.
“Do you mean magic?” Mary asked, remembering tales she’d heard in India. “I don’t know how to do magic. I just walked into his room and was so surprised to see him that I stood there staring. Then he stared at me. He thought I was a ghost, and I thought maybe he was a dream. It was strange being there together in the middle of the night, and we started asking each other questions.”
Martha shook her head. “This is unbelievable.”
“What’s wrong with him?” Mary asked, curious.
“No one knows for sure,” Martha said. “When Colin was born, Mr. Craven went a bit mad. He didn’t want to look at the baby, and he was afraid Colin would be a hunchback like him. The doctors have always been careful with Colin’s back, making him lie down often. Once they made him wear a brace, but it made him so unhappy that they had to take it off.”
“I think he’s very spoiled,” Mary said.
“He’s the most spoiled boy you’ll ever meet!” Martha agreed. “But he has been sick. He’s had terrible fevers and colds. He’s so afraid of getting sick that he barely goes outside.”
“I wonder if it would help him to go into a garden,” Mary said thoughtfully. “It helped me feel better.”
“One time, they took him to the rose garden, and he read something about ‘rose cold.’ He started sneezing and said he’d caught it. Then a gardener looked at him funny, and Colin threw a fit. He said the gardener was staring because he thought Colin would be a hunchback. He cried all night and made himself sick.”
“If he ever gets angry at me, I’ll never visit him again,” Mary said.
“He’ll make you visit him if he wants you to,” Martha warned.
Just then, a bell rang, and Martha put down her knitting.
“That’s probably the nurse. She’ll want me to stay with him for a bit. I hope he’s in a good mood.”
Martha was gone for about ten minutes, and when she returned, she looked puzzled.
“Well, you’ve definitely enchanted him!” she said. “He’s sitting up with his picture books and told the nurse to stay away until six o’clock. Then he called me over and said, ‘I want Mary Lennox to come and talk to me. Remember, don’t tell anyone.’ You’d better go quickly!”
Mary was eager to go. Although she didn’t want to see Colin as much as she wanted to see Dickon, she was still curious.
When she entered Colin’s room, she saw it was a beautiful, bright place with rich colors in the rugs and curtains. Books and pictures were everywhere, making it feel cozy despite the rain. Colin looked like a painting, sitting in a velvet dressing gown with bright red spots on his cheeks.
“Come in,” he said. “I’ve been thinking about you all morning.”
“I’ve been thinking about you, too,” Mary replied. “Martha is so worried. She’s afraid Mrs. Medlock will send her away for telling me about you.”
“Go bring her here,” Colin ordered.
Mary brought Martha into the room. Poor Martha looked terrified.
“Do you have to do what I say, or not?” Colin demanded.
“I have to do what you say, sir,” Martha stammered.
“And does Mrs. Medlock have to do what I say?”
“Everyone does, sir,” Martha replied.
“How can Mrs. Medlock send you away for doing what I told you to do?” Colin said, frowning.
“Please don’t let her send me away, sir!” Martha begged.
“I’ll send her away if she dares,” Colin said grandly. “Now go.”
When Martha left, Colin turned to Mary. “Why are you looking at me like that?” he asked. “What are you thinking?”
“I’m thinking about two things,” Mary replied.
“What are they? Sit down and tell me.”
“The first thing is,” Mary began, sitting on a stool, “once in India, I saw a boy who was a Rajah. He had jewels all over him and gave orders like you do. Everyone obeyed him immediately, or they’d be punished.”
Colin looked intrigued. “Tell me more about Rajahs later. What’s the second thing?”
“I was thinking about how different you are from Dickon,” Mary said.
“Who’s Dickon?” Colin asked. “What a funny name!”
Mary explained that Dickon was Martha’s brother. “He’s twelve and can charm animals like the snake charmers in India. He plays his pipe, and animals come to him.”
Colin pulled a big book toward him and opened it to a picture of a snake charmer. “Can he do that?”
“He plays softly, and the animals listen,” Mary explained. “But he says it’s not magic. He just knows their ways because he spends so much time on the moor. He even talks to the robin.”
Colin’s eyes grew wide with interest. “Tell me more about him.”
“He knows all about animals and plants,” Mary continued. “He knows where animals live and keeps their homes secret so no one bothers them.”
“Does he like the moor?” Colin asked, surprised. “It seems so dull and bare.”
Mary shook her head. “It’s beautiful! Thousands of creatures and plants are busy and happy in their own world.”
“How do you know all that?” Colin asked, turning to face her.
“I’ve never really been on the moor,” Mary admitted. “I thought it was ugly at first. But when Dickon talks about it, it feels like I’m there, seeing everything.”
“You never see anything if you’re always indoors,” Colin said, sounding restless.
“You might go out someday,” Mary said boldly.
“Go on the moor? How could I? I’m going to die,” Colin said.
“How do you know?” Mary asked, not liking the way he talked about dying.
“I’ve always heard it,” Colin replied, sounding cross.
“Well, if people wished I’d die, I wouldn’t,” Mary said firmly.
Colin was surprised by her boldness. “Who wishes I’d die?”
“The servants. And Dr. Craven, because he’d inherit the estate.”
“I don’t believe your father wishes it,” Mary said stubbornly.
Colin looked at her thoughtfully. “Don’t you?”
They sat in silence for a while before Mary spoke again. “Did the doctor from London say you were going to die?”
“No,” Colin replied. “He said, ‘The lad might live if he makes up his mind to it.'”
“I think Dickon could help you,” Mary said. “He always talks about life and things growing.”
“Tell me more about him,” Colin said, looking eager.
Mary described Dickon’s cheerful face and how he loved nature. As she talked, she noticed Colin’s face brightening. They both laughed and talked about all sorts of things, especially Dickon and his love for the moor. For the first time, Colin seemed truly happy.
They were having so much fun that they forgot the time. They laughed loudly when the door opened, and Dr. Craven and Mrs. Medlock walked in.
Dr. Craven looked startled, and Mrs. Medlock gasped, “Good Lord!”
Colin wasn’t bothered at all. “This is my cousin, Mary Lennox,” he said calmly. “I asked her to come talk to me.”
Dr. Craven checked Colin’s pulse. “Too much excitement isn’t good for you,” he said.
“I feel better when she’s here,” Colin insisted. “She makes me forget that I’m sick.”
Mrs. Medlock and Dr. Craven exchanged worried looks but didn’t argue. They left the room, still puzzled by Colin’s change.
After they left, Colin smiled at Mary. “Let’s have tea and talk about Rajahs,” he said.
Miss previous chapters of The Hidden Garden? You can read them here.
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