a-one-side, as if considering their probable efficiency against
flesh and blood, he slid from his perch, and "loafed" slowly up the
street, whistling and kicking the stones as he went along. As to Beauty
Bill, he fled home as fast as his legs would carry him. By the door
stood Bessy, washing some clothes, who turned her pretty face as he came
up.

"You're late, Bill," she said. "Go in and get your tea, it's set out.
It's night-school night, thou knows, and Master Arthur always likes his
class to time." He lingered, and she continued--"John Gardener was down
this afternoon about some potatoes, and he says Master Arthur is
expecting a friend."

Bill did not heed this piece of news, any more than the slight flush on
his sister's face as she delivered it; he was wondering whether what
Bully Tom said was mere invention to frighten him, or whether there was
any truth in it.

"Bessy!" he said, "was there a man ever murdered in Yew-lane?"

Bessy was occupied with her own thoughts, and did not notice the anxiety
of the question.

"I believe there was," she answered carelessly, "somewhere about there.
It's a hundred years ago or more. There's an old gravestone over him in
the churchyard by the wall, with an odd verse on it. They say the parish
clerk wrote it. But get your tea, or you'll be late, and father'll be
angry;" and Bessy took up her tub and departed.

Poor Bill! Then it was too true. He began to pull up his trousers and
look at his grazed legs; and the thoughts of his aching shins, Bully
Tom's cruelty, the unavoidable night-school, and the possible ghost,
were too much for him, and he burst into tears.

CHAPTER II.

"There are birds out on the bushes,
In the meadows lies the lamb;
How I wonder if they're ever
Half as frightened as I am?"

C. F. ALEXANDER.

The night-school was drawing to a close. The attendance had been good,
and the room looked cheerful. In one corner the Rector was teaching a
group of grown-up men, who (better late than never) were zealously
learning to read; in another the schoolmaster was flourishing his stick
before a map as he concluded his lesson in geography. By the fire sat
Master Arthur, the Rector's son, surrounded by his class, and in front
of him stood Beauty Bill. Master Arthur was very popular with the
people, especially with his pupils. The boys were anxious to get into
his class, and loath to leave it. They admired hi