hands, and said his prayer piously under the brilliant heavens.




CHAPTER XII.

IT STILL GOES ON.


At last Rico also fell asleep. He only awoke when the driver took hold
of him to lift him down. All the passengers descended; and the three
students came to the lad, shook him kindly by the hand, and wished a
happy journey. One of them called out, "Greet Stineli very kindly for
us." Then they disappeared up one of the streets, and Rico could hear
them as they sang merrily,--

"And the lambkins, and the lambkins,"

Rico now stood alone in the darkness. He had not the slightest idea
where he was, nor of what he ought to do next. He presently
remembered that he had not even thanked the kind coachman who had
allowed him to come all this way on the coach, and he felt that he
must do that at once.

The coachman and his horses were both invisible, and nothing but
darkness was about the boy. At last he espied a lantern hanging up
somewhere in the distance, and went towards the light. It was hanging on
the stable-door, and the horses were just then brought in. Near the door
stood the man with the thick stick. He seemed to be waiting for the