"The prelude to Rhinegold?" said Mr. Bons suddenly. "Who taught you these leit motifs?" He, too, looked out of the window. Then he behaved very oddly. He gave a choking cry, and fell back on to the omnibus floor. He writhed and kicked. His face was green.
"Does the bridge make you dizzy?" the boy asked.
"Dizzy!" gasped Mr. Bons. "I want to go back. Tell the driver."
But the driver shook his head.
"We are nearly there," said the boy, "They are asleep. Shall I call? They will be so pleased to see you, for I have prepared them."
Mr. Bons moaned. They moved over the lunar rainbow, which ever and ever broke away behind their wheels. How still the night was! Who would be sentry at the Gate?
"I am coming," he shouted, again forgetting the hundred resolutions. "I am returning—I, the boy."
"The boy is returning," cried a voice to other voices, who repeated, "The boy is returning."
"I am bringing Mr. Bons with me."
Silence.