fect. But when next day came our plans and our conceptions
were utterly upset.

A little before two we sauntered down to the coach-office, and waited
impatiently for nearly twenty minutes. Of course the coach was late; it
always is on such occasions.

"Suppose he does not come," said I.

"What a fellow you are," cried Peterkin, "to make uncomfortable
suppositions! Let us rather suppose that he does come."

"Oh, then, it would be all right; but if he does not come, what then?"

"Why, then, it would be all wrong, and we should have to return home and
eat our dinner in the sulks, that's all."

As my companion spoke we observed the coach come sweeping round the turn
of the road about half a mile distant. In a few seconds it dashed into
the town at full gallop, and finally drew up abruptly opposite the door
of the inn, where were assembled the usual group of hostlers and waiters
and people who expected friends by the coach.

"He's not there," whispered Peterkin, in deep disappointment--"at least
he's not on the outside, and Jack would never travel inside of a coach
even in bad weather, much less in fine. That's not him on the back-seat
beside the fat old woman with the blue bundle, surely! It's very like
him, but too young, much too young. There's a great giant of a man on
the box-seat with a beard like a grenadier's shako, and a stout old
gentleman behind him with gold spectacles. That's all, except two boys
farther aft, and three ladies in the cabin. Oh, _what_ a bore!"

Although deeply disappointed at the non-arrival of Jack, I could with
difficulty refrain from smiling at the rueful and woe-begone countenance
of my poor companion. It was evident that he could not bear
disappointment with equanimity, and I was on the point of offering some
consolatory remarks, when my attention was attracted by the little old
woman with the blue bundle, who went up to the gigantic man with the
black beard, and in the gentlest possible tone of voice asked if he
could direct her to the white house.

"No, madam," replied the big man hastily; "I'm a stranger here."

The little old woman was startled by his abrupt answer. "Deary me, sir,
no offence, I hope."

She then turned to Peterkin and put the same question, possibly under a
vague sort of impression that if a gigantic frame betokened a gruff
nature, diminutive stature must necessarily imply extreme amiability.
If so, she must have been much surprised as well as disa