that he was not
too late, Kit leant against a lamp-post to take breath, and waited the
advent of the pony and his charge.

Sure enough, before long the pony came trotting round the corner of the
street, looking as obstinate as pony might, and picking his steps as if
he were spying about for the cleanest places, and would by no means
dirty his feet or hurry himself inconveniently. Behind the pony sat
the little old gentleman, and by the old gentleman's side sat the
little old lady, carrying just such a nosegay as she had brought before.

The old gentleman, the old lady, the pony, and the chaise, came up the
street in perfect unanimity, until they arrived within some half a
dozen doors of the Notary's house, when the pony, deceived by a
brass-plate beneath a tailor's knocker, came to a halt, and maintained
by a sturdy silence, that that was the house they wanted.

'Now, Sir, will you ha' the goodness to go on; this is not the place,'
said the old gentleman.

The pony looked with great attention into a fire-plug which was near
him, and appeared to be quite absorbed in contemplating it.

'Oh dear, such a naughty Whisker!' cried the old lady. 'After being so
good too, and coming along so well! I am quite ashamed of him. I
don't know what we are to do with him, I really don't.'

The pony having thoroughly satisfied himself as to the nature and
properties of the fire-plug, looked into the air after his old enemies
the flies, and as there happened to be one of them tickling his ear at
that moment he shook his head and whisked his tail, after which he
appeared full of thought but quite comfortable and collected. The old
gentleman having exhausted his powers of persuasion, alighted to lead
him; whereupon the pony, perhaps because he held this to be a
sufficient concession, perhaps because he happened to catch sight of
the other brass-plate, or perhaps because he was in a spiteful humour,
darted off with the old lady and stopped at the right house, leaving
the old gentleman to come panting on behind.

It was then that Kit presented himself at the pony's head, and touched
his hat with a smile.

'Why, bless me,' cried the old gentleman, 'the lad is here! My dear,
do you see?'

'I said I'd be here, Sir,' said Kit, patting Whisker's neck. 'I hope
you've had a pleasant ride, sir. He's a very nice little pony.'

'My dear,' said the old gentleman. 'This is an uncommon lad; a good
lad, I'm sure.'

'I'm sure he is,'