The king motioned to his servant, and ordered him to carry the bag into the house.
“Why this delay—why this unnecessary loss of time?” asked Niclas. “The postilion can wait no longer. If he arrives too late at the next station, he will be fined.”
“I will not wait another minute,” cried the postilion, determinately. “get in, or I shall start without you.”
“Show me your passports, and then get in,” cried Niclas.
The strangers appeared confused and undecided. Niclas looked triumphantly at his immense crowd of listeners, who were gazing at him with amazement, awaiting in breathless stillness the unravelling of this scene.
“Get in, or I shall start,” repeated the postilion.
“Give me your passports, or I will not let you go!” screamed “We can demand them if we wish to do so.”
“And why do you wish it now?” said the same voice.
“I wish it simply because I wish it,” was the reply.
A stern face now appeared at the door, looking angrily at the postmaster.