"'One thing more,' said Melchior; and they went up to the mantel-piece. 'I will lend you my bow and arrow to-morrow, on one condition——'
"'Anything!' was the reply, in an enthusiastic whisper.
"'That you take that old picture for a target, and never let me see it again.'
"It was very ungrateful! but perfection is not in man; and there was something in Melchior's muttered excuse,—
"'I couldn't stand another night of it.'
"Hop-o'-my-thumb was speedily put to bed again, to get warm, this time with both the pillows; but Melchior was too restless to sleep, so he resolved to have a shower-bath and to dress. After which he knelt down by the window, and covered his face with his hands.
"'He's saying very long prayers,' thought Hop-o'-my-thumb, glancing at him from his warm nest; 'and what a jolly humor he is in this morning!'
"Still, the young head was bent and the handsome face hidden; and Melchior was finding his life every moment more real and more happy. For there was hardly a thing, from the well-filled 'barracks' to the brother bedfellow, that had been a hardship last night, which this morning did not seem a blessing. He rose at last, and stood in the sunshine, which was now pouring in; a smile was on his lips, and on his face were two drops, which, if they were water, had not come from the shower-bath, or from any bath at all."
"Is that the end?" inquired the young lady on his knee, as the story-teller paused here.
"Yes, that is the end."