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〃But it is so much nicer here！〃 said Diamond。
〃I daresay； but I couldn't hold a little coward to my heart。
It would make me so cold！〃
〃But I wasn't brave of myself；〃 said Diamond； whom my older readers
will have already discovered to be a true child in this； that he
was given to metaphysics。 〃It was the wind that blew in my face
that made me brave。 Wasn't it now； North Wind？〃
〃Yes： I know that。 You had to be taught what courage was。
And you couldn't know what it was without feeling it： therefore it
was given you。 But don't you feel as if you would try to be brave
yourself next time？〃
〃Yes； I do。 But trying is not much。〃
〃Yes； it isa very great deal； for it is a beginning。 And a beginning
is the greatest thing of all。 To try to be brave is to be brave。
The coward who tries to be brave is before the man who is brave
because he is made so； and never had to try。〃
〃How kind you are； North Wind！〃
〃I am only just。 All kindness is but justice。 We owe it。〃
〃I don't quite understand that。〃
〃Never mind； you will some day。 There is no hurry about understanding
it now。〃
〃Who blew the wind on me that made me brave？〃
〃I did。〃
〃I didn't see you。〃
〃Therefore you can believe me。〃
〃Yes； yes； of course。 But how was it that such a little breath
could be so strong？〃
〃That I don't know。〃
〃But you made it strong？〃
〃No： I only blew it。 I knew it would make you strong； just as it
did the man in the boat； you remember。 But how my breath has
that power I cannot tell。 It was put into it when I was made。
That is all I know。 But really I must be going about my work。〃
〃Ah！ the poor ship！ I wish you would stop here； and let the poor
ship go。〃
〃That I dare not do。 Will you stop here till I come back？〃
〃Yes。 You won't be long？〃
〃Not longer than I can help。 Trust me； you shall get home before
the morning。〃
In a moment North Wind was gone； and the next Diamond heard
a moaning about the church； which grew and grew to a roaring。
The storm was up again； and he knew that North Wind's hair was flying。
The church was dark。 Only a little light came through the windows；
which were almost all of that precious old stained glass which
is so much lovelier than the new。 But Diamond could not see
how beautiful they were； for there was not enough of light
in the stars to show the colours of them。 He could only just
distinguish them from the walls； He looked up； but could not see
the gallery along which he had passed。 He could only tell where it
was far up by the faint glimmer of the windows of the clerestory；
whose sills made part of it。 The church grew very lonely about him；
and he began to feel like a child whose mother has forsaken it。
Only he knew that to be left alone is not always to be forsaken。
He began to feel his way about the place； and for a while went
wandering up and down。 His little footsteps waked little answering
echoes in the great house。 It wasn't too big to mind him。
It was as if the church knew he was there； and meant to make itself
his house。 So it went on giving back an answer to every step；
until at length Diamond thought he should like to say something out loud；
and see what the church would answer。 But he found he was afraid
to speak。 He could not utter a word for fear of the loneliness。
Perhaps it was as well that he did not； for the sound of a spoken
word would have made him feel the place yet more deserted and empty。
But he thought he could sing。 He was fond of singing； and at home he
used to sing； to tunes of his own； all the nursery rhymes he knew。
So he began to try ‘Hey diddle diddle'； but it wouldn't do。
Then he tried ‘Little Boy Blue'； but it was no better。 Neither would
‘Sing a Song of Sixpence' sing itself at all。 Then he tried ‘Poor
old Cockytoo'； but he wouldn't do。 They all sounded so silly！
and he had never thought them silly before。 So he was quiet；
and listened to the echoes that came out of the dark corners in answer
to his footsteps。
At last he gave a great sigh； and said； 〃I'm so tired。〃 But he did
not hear the gentle echo that answered from far away over his head；
for at the same moment he came against the lowest of a few steps
that stretched across the church； and fell down and hurt his arm。
He cried a little first； and then crawled up the steps on his
hands and knees。 At the top he came to a little bit of carpet；
on which he lay down； and there he lay staring at the dull window
that rose nearly a hundred feet above his head。
Now this was the eastern window of the church； and the moon was at
that moment just on the edge of the horizon。 The next； she was peeping
over it。 And lo！ with the moon； St。 John and St。 Paul； and the rest
of them； began to dawn in the window in their lovely garments。
Diamond did not know that the wonder…working moon was behind；
and he thought all the light was coming out of the window itself；
and that the good old men were appearing to help him； growing out
of the night and the darkness； because he had hurt his arm；
and was very tired and lonely； and North Wind was so long in coming。
So he lay and looked at them backwards over his head； wondering when
they would come down or what they would do next。 They were very dim；
for the moonlight was not strong enough for the colours； and he
had enough to do with his eyes trying to make out their shapes。
So his eyes grew tired； and more and more tired； and his eyelids
grew so heavy that they would keep tumbling down over his eyes。
He kept lifting them and lifting them； but every time they were
heavier than the last。 It was no use： they were too much for him。
Sometimes before he had got them half up； down they were again；
and at length he gave it up quite； and the moment he gave it up； he was
fast asleep。
CHAPTER VIII
THE EAST WINDOW
THAT Diamond had fallen fast asleep is very evident from the strange
things he now fancied as taking place。 For he thought he heard
a sound as of whispering up in the great window。 He tried to open
his eyes； but he could not。 And the whispering went on and grew
louder and louder； until he could hear every word that was said。
He thought it was the Apostles talking about him。 But he could not
open his eyes。
〃And how comes he to be lying there； St。 Peter？〃 said one。
〃I think I saw him a while ago up in the gallery； under the
Nicodemus window。 Perhaps he has fallen down。
〃What do you think； St。 Matthew？〃
〃I don't think he could have crept here after falling from such
a height。 He must have been killed。〃
〃What are we to do with him？ We can't leave him lying there。
And we could not make him comfortable up here in the window：
it's rather crowded already。 What do you say； St。 Thomas？〃
〃Let's go down and look at him。〃
There came a rustling； and a chinking； for some time