Johnny Drew’s fears about the weather were not realized. The heavy cloud rolled away; there was no rain; and what was no less lucky there was no fog. A fog would have spoilt half the sport. What would have been the good of lighting a noble bonfire if nobody could see it? However there was no fog, but a clear dark night; the moon had not risen, and though the stars twinkled brightly there was no danger of their light out-shining that of the bonfire. Johnny Drew, and Willy Stubbs, and some of the younger boys could not help thinking that it was a very long time,--much longer than usual--till the sun set behind the Fisherton woods, and Ned Jubber said that for his part he did not see why a bonfire was not just as good by day as by night; but Ned only got laughed at for his impatience, and all the rest were content to wait till six o’clock. What a comfort it was to hear the church clock strike five! and then, as each successive quarter struck, how glad were the Yateshull boys! “Come, Kennedy, get your lantern ready!” cried many voices at the last quarter; and, lantern in hand, Kennedy was on the road, the moment the hour struck. “Where’s Dunn?” was the eager inquiry when it was found that he was not yet in the merry company. “Oh! he’ll meet us at Beacon-knowe,” answered Kennedy; and to the Knowe they all hastened, shouting as they went their accustomed song, and carrying on a pole an old sack stuffed with straw, surmounted with a crownless hat, and with a bunch of matches stuffed in the rope which was tied round it by way of hat band.--This was meant to represent Guy Fawkes. Certainly it was not very like a human being: but it would _burn_ well, and that was the chief thing to be thought about. “Are you all ready?” cried Kennedy, as soon as he had lighted his lantern, at old Dinah Marjoram’s. “Aye, aye,” was the reply: the door of the lantern was opened, the stout brown paper kindled, and applied to the straw at the bottom of the pile. There was a brisk wind, and the sticks and straw were quite dry, so that in a minute’s time the faggots were all alight, and blazing higher and higher every moment. Oh! it was a glorious bonfire! and I wish you had been there to see it! How the kindling sticks crackled and sparkled, and how, as more fuel was heaped on, the flames leaped up, till they were--oh! I can’t tell how many feet above the boys’ heads. “I hope all the people at Lichfield and Derby are on the look out,” cried Charley Salt. “I hope Jasper Crabbe sees it,” said Harry Martin, “for we owe it all to him, and he ought to have the benefit of it.” “Oh yes,” cried Kennedy, “get out of the way of the smoke, and you’ll see him fast enough; and there’s Dinah Marjoram, and Molly Salt, and old Granny Grendon, and ... and all the parish,--or, at any rate a good part of it, turned out to see us.” “Nay, I don’t see above a dozen of the neighbours,” replied Harry.