ignal for the commencement of
the fireworks on the lawn. Another and another, each more brilliant
than the last, succeeded. There were stars, wheels, serpents, griffins,
dragons, all flashing forth from the darkness in living fire, filling
the rustic spectators with admiration, wonder, and terror, and then as
suddenly disappearing as if swallowed up in the night from which they
had sprung. One instant the whole scene was lighted up as by a general
conflagration, the next it was hidden in darkness deep as midnight. The
sisters, no more than their fellow-rustics, had never witnessed the
marvel of fireworks, so now they gazed from their distant standpoint on
the knoll with interest bordering upon consternation.

"Don't you think they're dangerous, Reuben?" inquired Hannah.

"No, dear; else such a larned gentleman as Mr. Brudenell, and such a
prudent lady as the old madam, would never allow them," answered Gray.

Nora did not speak; she was absorbed not only by the fireworks
themselves, but by the group on the balcony that each illumination
revealed; or, to be exact, by one face in that group--the face of Herman
Brudenell.

At length the exhibition closed with one grand tableau in many colored
fire, displaying the family group of Brudenell, surmounted by their
crest, arms, and supporters, all encircled by wreaths of flowers. This
splendid transparency illumined the whole scene with dazzling light. It
was welcomed by deafening huzzas from the crowd. When the noise had
somewhat subsided, Reuben Gray, gazing with the sisters from their knoll
upon all this glory, touched Nora upon the shoulder and said:

"Look!"

"I am looking," she said.

"What do you see?"

"The fireworks, of course."

"And what beyond them?"

"The great house--Brudenell Hall."

"And there?"

"The party on the upper piazza."

"With Mr. Brudenell in the midst?"

"Yes."

"Now, then, observe! You see him, but it is across the glare of the
fireworks! There is fire between you and him, girl--a gulf of fire! See
that you do not dream either he or you can pass it! For either to do so
would be to sink one, and that is yourself, in burning fire--in
consuming shame! Oh, Nora, beware!"

He had spoken thus! he, the poor unlettered man who had scarcely ever
opened his mouth before without a grievous assault upon good English! he
had breathed these words of eloquent warning, as if by direct
inspiration, as though his lips, like those of the prophet of