on to which opened the
hitherto mysterious chamber.

"Let's hope they're changing for the better, Mrs. Medlock," he
answered.

"They couldn't well change for the worse," she continued; "and queer as
it all is there's them as finds their duties made a lot easier to stand
up under. Don't you be surprised, Mr. Roach, if you find yourself in the
middle of a menagerie and Martha Sowerby's Dickon more at home than you
or me could ever be."

There really was a sort of Magic about Dickon, as Mary always privately
believed. When Mr. Roach heard his name he smiled quite leniently.

"He'd be at home in Buckingham Palace or at the bottom of a coal mine,"
he said. "And yet it's not impudence, either. He's just fine, is that
lad."

It was perhaps well he had been prepared or he might have been startled.
When the bedroom door was opened a large crow, which seemed quite at
home perched on the high back of a carven chair, announced the entrance
of a visitor by saying "Caw--Caw" quite loudly. In spite of Mrs.
Medlock's warning, Mr. Roach only just escaped being sufficiently
undignified to jump backward.

The young Rajah was neither in bed nor on his sofa. He was sitting in an
armchair and a young lamb was standing by him shaking its tail in
feeding-lamb fashion as Dickon knelt giving it milk from its bottle. A
squirrel was perched on Dickon's bent back attentively nibbling a nut.
The little girl from India was sitting on a big footstool looking on.

"Here is Mr. Roach, Master Colin," said Mrs. Medlock.

The young Rajah turned and looked his servitor over--at least that was
what the head gardener felt happened.

"Oh, you are Roach, are you?" he said. "I sent for you to give you some
very important orders."

"Very good, sir," answered Roach, wondering if he was to receive
instructions to fell all the oaks in the park or to transform the
orchards into water-gardens.

"I am going out in my chair this afternoon," said Colin. "If the fresh
air agrees with me I may go out every day. When I go, none of the
gardeners are to be anywhere near the Long Walk by the garden walls. No
one is to be there. I shall go out about two o'clock and every one must
keep away until I send word that they may go back to their work."

"Very good, sir," replied Mr. Roach, much relieved to hear that the oaks
might remain and that the orchards were safe.

"Mary," said Colin, turning to her, "what is that thing you say in India
when you have finished tal