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even to the coach itself. As that vehicle stood in the open street,
ready to start, and Nicholas was about to enter it, he was not a little
astonished to find himself suddenly clutched in a violent embrace which
nearly took him off his legs; while Mr. Crummles' voice exclaimed, "It
is he--my friend, my friend!"

"Bless my heart," cried Nicholas, struggling in the manager's arms,
"What are you about?"

The manager made no reply, but strained him to his breast again,
exclaiming, "Farewell, my noble, my lion-hearted boy!"

In fact Mr. Crummles, who could never lose any opportunity for
professional display, had turned out for the express purpose of taking a


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