[Illustration: "THE HIGH," WITH QUEEN'S COLLEGE.]
Just before reaching Nottingham we saw a large concourse of people in an
open space some distance away from our road; out of curiosity we went to
see what was going on, and found it to be a cricket match just
finishing. Two men in the crowd to whom we spoke told us that great
interest was being taken in the match, as a man named Grace was taking
part in the game. We waited till the end, and came along with the two
men towards the town. We had to cross the bridge over the River Trent,
and my brother had already crossed when he found I was not following. So
he turned back, and saw me talking to a policeman in the centre of the
bridge. "What's the matter?" he shouted, and I replied, "He wants to
look in my bag." My brother made use of some expression quite unusual to
him, and a regular war of words ensued between him and the officer; as
we declined to open the bag, he requested us to follow him to a small
temporary police office that had been built on the side of the bridge.
Meantime a crowd of men had collected and followed us to the station;
every pane of glass in the office windows was occupied by the faces of
curious observers.
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