fused, "Where to?" Without
reflecting about the matter, Wilhelm cried, "To the Ship in West
Street." The coachman drove on; about half-way, Wilhelm again opened the
coach-door, a bold spring helped him out, and the coach rolled on.
It stopped at the public-house of the Ship. The coachman got down
and opened the door; there was no one within; he thrust his head
in thoroughly to convince himself; but no, the carriage was empty!
"Extraordinary!" said the fellow; "can I have dreamed it? But still
I heard, quite distinctly, how I was told to drive to the Ship! Lord
preserve us! now they are waiting for me!" He leaped upon the box and
drove rapidly back again.

In the mean time Wilhelm had reached his abode in Vineyard Street; he
opened a window to enjoy the beautiful night, and gazed out upon the
desolate church-yard which is shut in by shops. He had no inclination
for sleep, although everything in the street, even the watchmen not
excepted, appeared to rejoice the gift of God. Wilhelm thought upon the
merry evening party, upon his adventure with the poor hackney-coachman,
then took down his violin from the wall and began to play certain
variations.

The last remaining guests from the honorable carousal, merrier than when
Wilhelm left them, now came wandering up the street. One of them jodeled
sweetly, and no watchman showed himself as a disturbing principle. They
heard Wilhelm violin and recognized the musician.

"Play us a Francaise, thou up there!" cried they.

"But the watchman?" whispered one of the less courageous.

"Zounds, there he sits!" cried a third, and pointed toward a sleeping
object which leaned its head upon a large wooden chest before a closed
booth.

"He is happy!" said the first speaker. "If we had only the strong
Icelander here, he would soon hang him up by his bandelier upon one of
the iron hooks. He has done that before now; he has the strength of a
bear. He seized such a lazy fellow as this right daintily by his girdle
on one of the hooks at the weighing-booth. There hung the watchman
and whistled to the others; the first who hastened to the spot was
immediately hung up beside him, and away ran the Icelander whilst the
two blew a duet."

"Here, take hold!" cried one of the merry brothers, quickly opening the
chest, the lid of which was fastened by a peg. "Let us put the watchman
into the chest; he sleeps indeed like a horse!" In a moment, the four
had seized the sleeper, who certainly awoke du