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“
Yes
,
I
’
ve
stopped
,
”
said
Colin
.
Then
suddenly
he
remembered
something
Mary
had
said
.
“
Are
you
making
Magic
?
”
he
asked
sharply
.
Dickon
’
s
curly
mouth
spread
in
a
cheerful
grin
.
“
Tha
’
s
doin
’
Magic
thysel
’
,
”
he
said
.
“
It
’
s
same
Magic
as
made
these
’
ere
work
out
o
’
th
’
earth
,
”
and
he
touched
with
his
thick
boot
a
clump
of
crocuses
in
the
grass
.
Colin
looked
down
at
them
.
“
Aye
,
”
he
said
slowly
,
“
there
couldna
’
be
bigger
Magic
than
that
there
—
there
couldna
’
be
.
”
He
drew
himself
up
straighter
than
ever
.
“
I
’
m
going
to
walk
to
that
tree
,
”
he
said
,
pointing
to
one
a
few
feet
away
from
him
.
“
I
’
m
going
to
be
standing
when
Weatherstaff
comes
here
.
I
can
rest
against
the
tree
if
I
like
.
When
I
want
to
sit
down
I
will
sit
down
,
but
not
before
.
Bring
a
rug
from
the
chair
.
”
He
walked
to
the
tree
and
though
Dickon
held
his
arm
he
was
wonderfully
steady
.
When
he
stood
against
the
tree
trunk
it
was
not
too
plain
that
he
supported
himself
against
it
,
and
he
still
held
himself
so
straight
that
he
looked
tall
.
