Melchiors Dream and Other Tales | Page 7

and, indeed, the coach to himself, he might drive and bow and talk with the best of them; but as it is, one might as well go about in a wild-beast caravan.'
"Godfather Time frowned, but shook his glass all the same, and away they went at a famous pace. All at once they came to a stop.
"'Now for it,' says Melchior; 'here goes one at any rate.'
"Time called out the name of the second brother over his shoulder; and the boy stood up, and bade his brothers and sisters good-bye.
"'It is time that I began to push my way in the world,' said he, and passed out of the coach, and in among the crowd.
"'You have taken the only quiet boy,' said Melchior to the godfather angrily. 'Drive fast now, for pity's sake; and let us get rid of the tiresome ones.'
"And fast enough they drove, and dropped first one and then the other; but the sisters, and the reading boy, and the youngest still remained.
"'What are you looking at?' said Melchior to the lame sister.
"'At a strange figure in the crowd,' she answered.
"'I see nothing,' said Melchior. But on looking again after a while, he did see a figure wrapped in a cloak, gliding in and out among the people, unnoticed, if not unseen.
"'Who is it?' Melchior asked of the godfather.
"'A friend of mine,' Time answered. 'His name is Death.'
"Melchior shuddered, more especially as the figure had now come up to the coach, and put its hand in through the window, on which, to his horror, the lame sister laid hers and smiled. At this moment the coach stopped.
"'What are you doing?' shrieked Melchior, 'Drive on! drive on!'
"But even while he sprang up to seize the check-string the door had opened, the pale sister's face (a little paler now) had dropped upon the shoulder of the figure in the cloak, and he had carried her away; and Melchior stormed and raved in vain.
"'To take her, and to leave the rest! Cruel! cruel!'
"In his rage and grief, he hardly knew it when the untidy brother was called, and putting his book under his arm, slipped out of the coach without looking to the right or left. Presently the coach stopped again; and when Melchior looked up the door was open, and at it was the fine man on the fine horse, who was lifting the sister on to the saddle before him. 'What fool's game are you playing?' said Melchior, angrily. 'I know that man. He is both ill-tempered and a bad character.'
"'You never told her so before,' muttered young Hop-o'-my-Thumb.
"'Hold your tongue,' said Melchior. 'I forbade her to talk to him, which was enough.'
"'I don't want to leave you; but he cares for me, and you don't,' sobbed the sister; and she was carried away.
"When she had gone, the youngest brother slid down from his corner and came up to Melchior.
"'We are alone now, Brother,' he said; 'let us be good friends. May I sit on the front seat with you, and have half the rug? I will be very good and polite, and will have nothing more to do with those fellows, if you will talk to me.'
"Now Melchior really rather liked the idea, but as his brother seemed to be in a submissive mood, he thought he would take the opportunity of giving him a good lecture, and would then graciously relent and forgive. So he began by asking him if he thought that he was fit company for him (Melchior), what he thought that gentlefolks would say to a boy who had been playing with such youths as young Hop-o'-my-Thumb had, and whether the said youths were not scoundrels? And when the boy refused to say that they were (for they had been kind to him), Melchior said that his tastes were evidently as bad as ever, and even hinted at the old transportation threat. This was too much; the boy went angrily back to his window corner, and Melchior--like too many of us!--lost the opportunity of making peace for the sake of wagging his own tongue.
"'But he will come round in a few minutes,' he thought A few minutes passed, however, and there was no sign. A few minutes more, and there was a noise, a shout; Melchior looked up, and saw that the boy had jumped through the open window into the road, and had been picked up by the men in the dog-cart, and was gone.
"And so at last my hero was alone. At first he enjoyed it very much. He shook out his hair, wrapped himself in the rug, stared through the opera-glass, and did the fine gentleman very well indeed. But though everyone allowed him to be the finest young fellow on the road, yet nobody seemed to care for the