Mr. Broadstreet winked hard, and his eyes shone.
“How long before you pass here on the way back?” he asked.
“About thirty-five minutes it’ll take us to get round, sir, on account of the snow. It’s my last trip.”
“Very well. Now, conductor—ahem! what did you say your name was?”
“Tryson, sir; David Tryson.”
“Then, ahem! Mr. Tryson—just ring your bell when you reach the corner there, on the up trip; and dodge into that store where the lights are. You’ll find a bundle waiting for you. Good-night conduct—Mr. Tryson, and a Merry Christmas to you and yours!”
“Good-night, sir! God bless you, sir! Merry”—but his passenger was gone.
As he reached the sidewalk, Mr. Broadstreet turned and looked after the car. Whether it was the light from the street lamp, or the broad flood of radiance that poured out from the windows of the toy-shop just beyond, he could not tell; but the rear platform was illuminated by a pure, steady glow, in the very center of which stood the conductor, smiling and waving his hand. No sign of a Shadow; not a bit of it. Mr. Broadstreet looked carefully about him, but it was nowhere to be seen. Even the snow, which all this time continued to fall without interruption, seemed to fill the air with tiny lamps of soft light.
Ah, that toy-shop! Such heaps of blocks, and marbles, and sleds; such dolls with eyes that would wink upside down, exactly like a hen’s; such troops of horses and caravans of teams; such jangling of toy pianos, and tooting of toy horns, and shrieking of toy whistles, (these instruments being anxiously tested by portly papas and mammas, apparently to be sure of a good bargain, but really for the fun of the thing); such crowds of good-natured people, carrying canes, and drums, and hoop-sticks under their arms, taking and giving thrusts of these articles and being constantly pushed and pulled and jammed and trodden upon with the most delightful good humor; such rows of pretty girls behind the counters, now climbing to the summits of Ararats where innumerable Noah’s Arks, of all sizes, had been stranded; all these girls being completely used up with the day’s work, of course, but more cheerful and willing than ever, bless them! such scamperings to and fro of cash-boys, and diving into the crowd, and emergings in utterly unexpected places—were never seen before in this quiet old city.