But at William's gate a small figure slipped out from the darkness and
two little arms crept round William's neck.

"Oh, _William_," she whispered, "he's going to-morrow, and I am glad.
Isn't he a softie? Oh, William, I do _love_ you, you do such _'citing_
things!"




CHAPTER VII

THE GHOST


William lay on the floor of the barn, engrossed in a book. This was a
rare thing with William. His bottle of lemonade lay untouched by his
side, and he even forgot the half-eaten apple which reposed in his
hand. His jaws were arrested midway in the act of munching.

"Our hero," he read, "was awakened about midnight by the sound of the
rattling of chains. Raising himself on his arm he gazed into the
darkness. About a foot from his bed he could discern a tall, white,
faintly-gleaming figure and a ghostly arm which beckoned him."

William's hair stood on end.

"Crumbs!" he ejaculated.

"Nothing perturbed," he continued to read, "our hero rose and followed