Let the jarvey see you do it: the rest don't matter.
You can pretend to walk with us a little way, then slip back and under the seat again--takin' care that this time the jarvey _don't_ see you.

That's easy enough, eh ?" I assured him I could manage it.
"Then leave the rest to me, and bide still.

I got to think of Bill, now; and more by token here's the graveyard gate!" He thrust the door open and motioned me to tumble out ahead of him.
As the rest of the funeral guests alighted, he worked me very skilfully before him into the driver's view, having taken care to set the coach door wide on the off side.
"It's understood that you wait, all o' ye ?" said Mr.Jope to the driver.
The man lifted a lazy eye.

"Take your time," he said: "don't mind me.

I hope "-- he stiffened himself suddenly--"I knows a gentleman when I sees one." Mr.Jope turned away and from that moment ignored my existence.
The coffin was unlashed and lowered from the leading coach; the clergyman at the gate began to recite the sacred office, and the funeral train, reduced to decorum by his voice, followed him as he turned, and trooped along the path towards the mortuary chapel.
I moved with the crowd to its porch, drew aside to make way for a lady in rouge and sprigged muslin, and slipped behind the chapel wall.