"I am glad of it. You must persuade him then to go with us to see the sight, for you and I are not too clever to be amused, are we? Come, John, there's a good fellow—"
"'Doff your doublet, your best coat put on;
Make haste, or we shall find the sport begun!'"
John did as he was bid, and half an hour later the three were on their way to the meadow. Presently, as the darkness increased, the fireworks began to fizz and explode. The display was good, and John was contented with being a spectator. Sarah was delighted, like a child, as in some respects she was.
"It was very kind of you to make him come out," said she, turning to Tom, who was by their side.
"Oh see! How lovely bright!" she exclaimed, as a brilliant blue light suddenly lighted up the river-side, and the whole of the ground on which the spectators were standing, till all around for a few moments was as clear as in daylight.
At this moment a faint shriek from Sarah roused the attention of her husband. At the same moment Grigson disappeared from their side.
"What is it, Sarah?" John asked, tenderly.
"Oh! Nothing, nothing;" but she clung closer to John's arm, and asked him to remove a little farther from the fireworks, which somehow dazzled her, which he did.
Meanwhile Tom Grigson had darted into the thick of the crowd, and laid his hand on the arm of a stranger, a tall, pale young man who had been standing not many yards off and watching, not the fireworks, but Tom's friends and companions.
"Walter Wilson!"