ike--Willie! this gentleman is a very clever
gentleman, so you must keep your wits about you. _He'll_ put questions
to you, I can tell you! There's as much difference between his head and
mine, as between mine and the head of this stick." And Master Arthur
flourished his "one-legged donkey," as he called it, in the air, and
added, "Bertram! you lazy lout! _will_ you get up and take an interest
in my humble efforts for the good of my fellow-creatures?"

Thus adjured, Mr. Bartram sat up with a jerk which threw his book on to
his boots, and his hat after it, and looked at Bill. Now Bill and the
gardener had both been grinning, as they always did at Master Arthur's
funny speeches; but when Bill found the clever gentleman looking at him,
he straightened his face very quickly. The gentleman was not at all like
his friend ("nothing near so handsome," Bill reported at home), and he
had such a large prominent forehead that he looked as if he were bald.
When he had sat up, he suddenly screwed up his eyes in a very peculiar
way, pulled out a double gold eye-glass, fixed it on his nose, and
stared through it for a second; after which his eyes unexpectedly opened
to their full extent (they were not small ones), and took a sharp survey
of Bill over the top of his spectacles, and this ended, he lay back on
his elbow without speaking. Bill then and there decided that Mr. Bartram
was very proud, rather mad, and the most disagreeable gentleman he ever
saw; and he felt sure could see as well as he (Bill) could, and only
wore spectacles out of a peculiar kind of pride and vain-glory which he
could not exactly specify. Master Arthur seemed to think, at any rate,
that he was not very civil, and began at once to talk to the boy
himself.

"Why were you not at school last time, Willie? Couldn't your mother
spare you?"

"Yes, sir."

"Then why didn't you come?" said Master Arthur, in evident astonishment.

Poor Bill! He stammered as he had stammered before the doctor, and
finally gasped--

"Please, sir, I was scared."

"Scared? What of?"

"Ghosts," murmured Bill in a very ghostly whisper. Mr. Bartram raised
himself a little. Master Arthur seemed confounded.

"Why, you little goose! How is it you never were afraid before?"

"Please, sir, I saw one the other night."

Mr. Bartram took another look over the top of his eye-glass and sat bolt
upright, and John Gardener stayed his machine and listened, while poor
Bill told the whole story