The Dulcimer Boy (8 page)

A
FEW MINUTES LATER
the old gentleman led William and Jules out of the shack into the morning light. Waiting for them in the mucky lane was a number of uniformed attendants, holding horses by their reins. Another attendant stood beside a gleaming carriage. The morning was sunny but crisp, and the Mayor quickly removed his greatcoat and draped it over Jules's shoulders. For a moment Jules was at a loss about what to make of such strange behavior. He took the coat off and tried to hand it back.

“No, no, you keep it,” said the Mayor.

He then smiled at William, who was wrapped in his own coat.

“After your first concert,” the Mayor said, “I've no doubt astrakhan will be back in fashion.”

He walked to the carriage.

“Shall we be off?”

Jules, who had begun to stare at the Mayor with shining eyes, leaped immediately to his side, taking his cane for him and helping him up.

“There's room for two,” the Mayor said, “if you'll do me the honor.”

It took no more than this for Jules to climb up and sit beside him.

“Thank goodness!” the Mayor cried, delighted. “I have such a lot of room at home, and I've just lost my only grandchild to the university! Your aunt and uncle seem so attached to you I was afraid you might want to stay here with them and fish.”

At the prospect of losing their sole source of income, the Joneses had demonstrated a deep,
last-minute affection for Jules. But neither Jules in the carriage nor William, who had climbed onto a horse behind one of the attendants, gave the shack so much as a last look as they paraded off down the mucky lane.

The town chimney sweep was sharing the carriage

The party attracted considerable attention as it rode through Rigglemore. Even the old people sitting out on the shady side of the street—even they, who had seen so much—could hardly credit their senses. Never had they laid eyes on such fine horses, such noble equipage, such splendid uniforms. There could not be the slightest doubt that the gentleman in the carriage that led the procession, carrying himself so well for a man of his age, was some great personage. But if this was so, how could it be that the town chimney sweep was sharing the carriage with him?

The party proceeded out of town along the stagnant river and then, after skirting a vast
pine forest, entered the rolling countryside of woods and meadows. In a couple of hours, they came to a fork in the road where the horses naturally took the turning southward toward home. To the astonishment of all the others, however, William at this point slipped off his horse and bade them farewell.

Taken off his guard, the Mayor acted spontaneously. He stood on his authority and forbade William to leave them. But in spite of all the gratitude he owed the old gentleman, William only shook his head solemnly. He pointed to a flat blue cloud that had appeared on the eastern horizon and explained that with the help of a certain fisherman he hoped to find the man who had given him the Mayor's card.

“Ah, Drake,” the Mayor said slowly, thoughtfully. “If I could take the time off, I'd like to look for that man myself. I owe him my life.”

“Me, too, Your Honor,” William murmured.

For just as William had known that the dulcimer was a dulcimer, and that the flat blue cloud was the sea, so he had known from the first that the scruffy seaman was more than a scruffy seaman.

“When you come,” the Mayor said, relenting, “will you bring him for a visit? And do you promise we'll see you inside of the month?”

William nodded. But even so, as he set off down the road with the dulcimer under his arm and the coat dragging behind him, a sadness came into the eyes of Jules and the Mayor.

“I don't like to see him going off alone.” The Mayor sighed.

It was Jules, with his sensitive ears, who heard the faint songs first. He lifted his eyes, and then the Mayor lifted his. Accompanying William, singing as they wheeled high over his head, was a great flock of birds, dark birds from the forest, white birds from the sea.

Cover art © 2003 by Brian Selznick

Cover design by Brian Selznick

Cover © 2004 by HarperCollins Publishers Inc.