“You must come and stay with us when we settle,” said Arthur Haviland to Digby, the morning on which the former, with his father, was to take his departure from Mr Nugent’s. “I am to go to school, but papa intends to take a house to receive me in the holidays, when we shall expect you, and then I will tell you more about the Brazils, and the wonders of other parts of South America.”
Digby replied that if he could get leave he should be delighted to accept the invitation for a part of the holidays. “I tell you that I should not like to be away the whole time: I could not miss seeing my dear little sister Kate, and Gusty and the rest at home, on any account. I don’t fancy that I should like to be anywhere so much as at home. Oh, it is such a dear, jolly place. You must come to my home, Arthur, some day, and then you’ll see that I am right.” Such were the terms on which Digby and Arthur Haviland parted.
Digby felt very sorry and quite out of spirits when his new friend had gone. He liked Marshall, and Eastern, and Power, indeed all his companions, very much, but there was something so gentle, and amiable, and intelligent about Arthur; in many respects he was so different to himself, that he had been insensibly attracted towards him. He had been the means of saving Arthur’s life, too, and though his friend was so much older than himself, he ought to be his protector and guardian. “I wish that we had been going to the same school,” he said to himself; “Arthur is just the sort of fellow the boys will be apt to bully. How Julian would sneer at him and tease him. Even Power and Easton couldn’t help now and then having a laugh at his notions. How I should like to stand up for him, and fight his battles. I’m not very big, but I would not mind a thrashing for his sake.”
The summer was drawing to a conclusion, but still the weather was very warm. One evening Mr Nugent had been called out to visit a sick person. On his return he invited his pupils to accompany him to the beach.
“I have seldom seen the water so beautifully luminous as it is to-night,” he observed. “Bring two wide-mouthed bottles, my naturalist’s water nets, and a long pole, and we will go and fish for night shiners.”
Digby was puzzled to know what his uncle meant. The nets which Marshall produced were in shape like a landing-net, but smaller and lighter—fine gauze being used instead of the twine net. It was a dark night, and the party stumbled along over the not very well-paved streets of the little town till they reached the water. Great was Digby’s surprise to see the whole ocean covered with glowing flashes; while, as the gently rippling wavelets came rolling in, a line of light was playing over them, and as they reached the shore it broke into still greater brilliancy, leaving, as they retired, thousands of shining sparkles glittering on the smooth beach.
“What is it?” he exclaimed, after gazing for some time in mute astonishment. “What has come over the ocean?”
“A mass of phosphorescent creatures,” answered his uncle. “We will go to the deep pool (this was a quiet little bay close at hand). We shall then be able to fish up a supply for examination.”
On reaching the pool all at first appeared dark, but Mr Nugent and Marshall stooping down, swept the surface with their nets, when wherever they touched the water, it glowed with the most brilliant flashes. Having filled the bottles, they lifted the water up in the nets, when it looked as if they had got in them a lump of the most glittering gold, or a mass of molten lead. A still more beautiful appearance was produced when they threw the water up in the air and it came down in glittering showers, like the dropping stars from a firework.
“Glorious! beautiful!” shouted Digby; “I did not think the sea could produce anything so fine.”