"After all, is it not a good omen? Let us see this martyrdom," and he pressed into the confines of the crowd gathered round an enormous bonfire, which blazed in front of the church steps. Mr. Sidney followed, and the two found themselves absorbed into the multitude of apprentices, shopkeepers, clerks, and citizens of all descriptions, who were engaged in celebrating the acquittal of the bishops by burning His Holiness in effigy. For awhile they were unnoticed in the general excitement, then Mr. Sidney’s appearance was remarked. His plumed hat, his sword, his curling peruke, and the rich velvet mantle that concealed his person instantly told them that he was not of their class. Suspicion was roused that he was a spy of the Court, and they began to rudely jostle him; but the sailor, who kept closely beside him, laughed good-humouredly, and cried— "Gently, my friends. We are good Protestants come to see the burning of the Devil and the Pope." "Sure," came a quick answer, "if you were popish dogs you would scarce be here to-night!" Sidney smiled at the eager young man who spoke. "No," he said. "Long live the King, the Church, and the Laws—eh, my friend?" "I do not know so much about the first—but all my heart the second and third!" The sailor looked sharply at the speaker, who was a youth of two- or three-and-twenty, very plainly dressed, almost shabby, with a keen, dark face, intelligent, ardent eyes, and a quantity of untidy curly hair. He seemed to be a student or clerk, and was obviously the leading spirit of a band of youths of his own age, who were making most of the noise and clamour. He in his turn closely scrutinized the sailor, then said, in abrupt tones of friendliness— "I’ll get you through. You and the gentleman get behind me, and I’ll make ’em give away——" With the quick energy that seemed his characteristic he shouldered his way through the press and forced a passage for Mr. Sidney and the sailor, bringing them to the steps of the church, where they had a good view over the crowd, and stood directly behind the bonfire. He paused, a little breathless with fighting through the throng, and with blows given and taken, and asked Mr. Sidney, whose splendour seemed to somewhat overawe him, if he had ever seen a pope-burning before. "Never," smiled that gentleman; but the sailor added instantly— "I have, many a time; ’tis the finest fun in the world." The young man looked at him with the sharp suspicious curiosity of youth. He was quick to notice the difference between speech and dress, and his instant’s glance further confused him. The strong light of the bonfire showed a resolute-looking man, dressed in the coarse worn clothes of a common sailor, but unmistakeably a gentleman. He seemed amused and interested. A pleasant smile lit his face, and his grey eyes were bright and self-contained. "You were like to be clapt up if the watch caught you at this," he said. The youth was gloriously scornful.