quiet they were, in the still June evening! I only
wished we were safe back again at Norton Bury.

But now there came a slight swaying in the crowd, as a sedan-chair was
borne through--or attempted to be--for the effort failed. There was a
scuffle, one of the bearers was knocked down and hurt. Some cried
"shame!" others seemed to think this incident only added to the frolic.
At last, in the midst of the confusion, a lady put her head out of the
sedan and gazed around her.

It was a remarkable countenance; once seen, you could never forget it.
Pale, rather large and hard in outline, an aquiline nose--full,
passionate, yet sensitive lips--and very dark eyes. She spoke, and the
voice belonged naturally to such a face. "Good people, let me pass--I
am Sarah Siddons."

The crowd divided instantaneously, and in moving set up a cheer that
must have rang through all the town. There was a minute's pause, while
she bowed and smiled--such a smile!--and then the sedan curtain closed.

"Now's the time--only hold fast to me!" whispered John, as he sprang
forward, dragging me after him. In another second he had caught up the
pole dropped by the man who was hurt; and before I well knew what we
were about we both stood safe inside the entrance of the theatre.

Mrs. Siddons stepped out, and turned to pay her bearers--a most simple
action--but so elevated in the doing that even it, I thought, could not
bring her to the level of common humanity. The tall, cloaked, and
hooded figure, and the tones that issued thence, made her, even in that
narrow passage, under the one flaring tallow-candle, a veritable Queen
of tragedy--at least so she seemed to us two.

The one man was paid--over-paid, apparently, from his thankfulness--and
she turned to John Halifax.

"I regret, young man, that you should have had so much trouble. Here
is some requital."

He took the money, selected from it one silver coin, and returned the
rest.

"I will keep this, madam, if you please, as a memento that I once had
the honour of being useful to Mrs. Siddons."

She looked at him keenly, out of her wonderful dark eyes, then curtsied
with grave dignity--"I thank you, sir," she said, and passed on.

A few minutes after some underling of the theatre found us out and
brought us, "by Mrs. Siddons' desire," to the best places the house
could afford.

It was a glorious night. At this distance of time, when I look back
upon it my old blood leaps and burns.