layed truant before,
and for the next hour or two was thoroughly miserable as he slunk
about the premises of a neighbouring farm, and finally took refuge in
a shed, and began to consider his position. He would remain hidden
till nine o'clock, and then go home. If nothing were said, well and
good; unless some accident should afterwards betray him. But if his
mother asked any questions about the school? He dared not, and he
would not, tell a lie; and yet what would be the result of the truth
coming out? There could be no doubt that his father would beat him.
Bill thought again, and decided that he could bear a thrashing, but
not the sight of the Yew-lane Ghost; so he remained where he was,
wondering how it would be, and how he should get over the next
school-night when it came. The prospect was so hopeless, and the poor
lad so wearied with anxiety and wakeful nights, that he was almost
asleep when he was startled by the church clock striking nine; and,
jumping up, he ran home. His heart beat heavily as he crossed the
threshold; but his mother was still absorbed by thoughts of Bessy, and
he went to bed unquestioned. The next day too passed over without any
awkward remarks, which was very satisfactory; but then night-school
day came again, and Bill felt that he was in a worse position than
ever. He had played truant once with success; but he was aware that it
would not do a second time. Bully Tom was spiteful, and Master Arthur
might come to "look up" his recreant pupil, and then Bill's father
would know all.

On the morning of the much-dreaded day, his mother sent him up to the
Rectory to fetch some little delicacy that had been promised for
Bessy's dinner. He generally found it rather amusing to go there. He
liked to peep at the pretty garden, to look out for Master Arthur, and
to sit in the kitchen and watch the cook, and wonder what she did with
all the dishes and bright things that decorated the walls. To-day all
was quite different. He avoided the gardens, he was afraid of being
seen by his teacher, and though cook had an unusual display of pots
and pans in operation, he sat in the corner of the kitchen indifferent
to everything but the thought of the Yew-lane Ghost. The dinner for
Bessy was put between two saucers, and as cook gave it into his hands
she asked kindly after his sister, and added--

"You don't look over-well yourself, lad! What's amiss?"

Bill answered that he was quite well, and hurried out of the h