," said Dickon, "only they have to build their homes
every year. An' it keeps 'em so busy they fair scuffle to get 'em
done."

The most absorbing thing, however, was the preparations to be made
before Colin could be transported with sufficient secrecy to the garden.
No one must see the chair-carriage and Dickon and Mary after they turned
a certain corner of the shrubbery and entered upon the walk outside the
ivied walls. As each day passed, Colin had become more and more fixed in
his feeling that the mystery surrounding the garden was one of its
greatest charms. Nothing must spoil that. No one must ever suspect that
they had a secret. People must think that he was simply going out with
Mary and Dickon because he liked them and did not object to their
looking at him. They had long and quite delightful talks about their
route. They would go up this path and down that one and cross the other
and go round among the fountain flower-beds as if they were looking at
the "bedding-out plants" the head gardener, Mr. Roach, had been having
arranged. That would seem such a rational thing to do that no one would
think it at all mysterious. They would turn into the shrubbery walks and
lose themselves until they came to the long walls. It was almost as
serious and elaborately thought out as the plans of march made by great
generals in time of war.

Rumors of the new and curious things which were occurring in the
invalid's apartments had of course filtered through the servants' hall
into the stable yards and out among the gardeners, but notwithstanding
this, Mr. Roach was startled one day when he received orders from Master
Colin's room to the effect that he must report himself in the apartment
no outsider had ever seen, as the invalid himself desired to speak to
him.

"Well, well," he said to himself as he hurriedly changed his coat,
"what's to do now? His Royal Highness that wasn't to be looked at
calling up a man he's never set eyes on."

Mr. Roach was not without curiosity. He had never caught even a glimpse
of the boy and had heard a dozen exaggerated stories about his uncanny
looks and ways and his insane tempers. The thing he had heard oftenest
was that he might die at any moment and there had been numerous fanciful
descriptions of a humped back and helpless limbs, given by people who
had never seen him.

"Things are changing in this house, Mr. Roach," said Mrs. Medlock, as
she led him up the back staircase to the corridor