Chapter 24 Homecoming.
While the secret garden was coming alive, a lonely man with crooked shoulders was visiting beautiful sights in Europe.
But nothing made an impression on his gloomy heart.
After months of travel, Mr. Craven was staying at an inn near a mountain stream in Austria.
One day he walked out by himself.
Sitting beside the stream, he watched the birds fly down to drink.
Clusters of blue forget-me-nots were growing beside the softly rushing water.
For the first time in ten years, he felt himself relax and notice how lovely everything was.
Slowly, new and beautiful thoughts began to push out his old, sad ones.
He began to come back to life.
That autumn he traveled to Italy.
One warm night he was sitting beside the lake near his hotel.
The full moon was reflected in the water.
Everything was so calm that he fell asleep.
He dreamed that he was in a place filled with roses.
A distant voice called out his name.
It was his wife's.
In the dream he cried out, Where are you?
The sweet voice answered, In the garden.
He slept till dawn.
When he awoke on the ground, he could still hear her words echo in the garden.
A servant handed Mr. Craven a bundle of letters and went away.
The one on top, from Yorkshire, caught his attention.
He read it at once and then again.
It said, Dear Sir, I once spoke to you about Miss Mary.
Now I must speak again.
Please, Sir, you must come home.
I think you would be glad to come.
If I might be so bold, I think your wife would ask you to come if she was here.
Your obedient servant, Susan Sowerby.
He thought about the letter and about his dream.
He decided to return to England at once.
On the train back to Yorkshire.
He worried that Colin was seriously ill, maybe dying, but he decided not to give in to his dark thoughts anymore.
For the first time in years, he looked forward to coming home.
His heart felt warm.
When he finally reached the manor, he called for Mrs. Medlock and asked how his son was.
To tell the truth, Mrs Medlock said Mr Cotland might be better or he might be changing for the worse.
We can't make him out.
You know how he hated to see people and would never go outdoors.
Well, he's taken a great fancy to Miss Mary and Dick and Sowerby.
Now they push him in his chair and go outside by themselves every day.
None of us is allowed near them.
I've tried to protect him, but he's there now, sir, in the garden.
Her words rang in his ears.
They were the same sweet words of his dream.
He left Mrs. Medlock to go find his son.
He followed the same route Mary had taken on her first day at the manor.
He knew where he must go, but he walked slowly.
It had been so many years since he locked the door to his wife's garden.
He wasn't sure if he could find the key.
When he reached the ivy-covered wall, he stopped and looked around.
He heard a scuffling sound as if someone was running in the autumn leaves.
He seemed to hear voices and the happy laughter of children.
Was he dreaming?
Suddenly the door of the locked garden flew open.
A boy burst through it, running at full speed.
The boy didn't see the man and nearly crashed into him.
Mr. Craven grasped the boy to keep him from falling.
Who was he?
Mr. Craven saw that he was tall and handsome.
His cheeks glowed and his thick, curly hair fell over his forehead.
The boy's eyes shone with laughter when he pushed his hair back.
Mr. Craven gasped when he saw the gray eyes rimmed with black lashes and full of boyish fun.
Colin had not planned to meet his father this way, but this was better.
He'd been running a race and had dashed through the door ahead of Mary.
Now he was standing with his father's hands on his shoulders.
I'm Colin, he said.
You can't believe it.
I can hardly believe it myself.
Mr. Craven could only repeat, in the garden.
Colin exclaimed, yes, father, the garden did it.
And Mary and Dickon and the wild creatures and the magic, we kept it all secret until you came.
I'm well now, and I'm going to be an athlete and a scientific discoverer.
Colin spoke so naturally that Mr. Craven trembled with joy.
He looked into his son's handsome, healthy face.
He was speechless.
Finally, Mr. Craven said, "'Take me into the garden, my boy.
Tell me all about it.'
The garden was brilliant with autumn colors—gold and purple, violet and flaming red—
Late lilies of white and red waved in the breeze.
Autumn roses climbed upward and hung like curtains from the yellowing trees.
Mr. Craven remembered when they were planted.
I thought it would be dead, he gasped.
Mary thought that when she found the garden, Colin said, but it came alive.
The children led Mr. Craven to the grassy spot under their tree.
They introduced Dickon, and everyone sat down.
Colin and Mary began to tell their story.
It was the strangest tale Mr. Craven had ever heard.
Sometimes he laughed so hard that tears came to his eyes, and sometimes his cheeks were wet, just like old Ben's, when he saw Colin stand up.
Ben had been listening nearby.
He excused himself so that he could be back at the house when the servants first set eyes on Mr Craven and Colin.
When Ben entered the kitchen, Mrs. Medlock asked if he had seen Mr. Craven or the boy.
I, Ben said, I've seen them both.
Together, Mrs. Medlock asked anxiously, what did they say to each other?
I couldn't tell.
Ben replied with a sly grin.
But there's things going on outside that you house people don't know.
He went over to the kitchen window.
Well, look at that, he said.
Look what's coming across the lawn.
Mrs. Medlock looked out the window.
She threw up her hands and screamed in surprise.
The cook, Martha, and the other servants ran over and stared out the window in amazement.
Across the grass came the master of mistletoe, smiling and laughing like no one had ever seen before, and at his side walked a tall, smiling lad as straight and steady as any boy in Yorkshire.
The servants gasped.
It was Master Collin.
