"You won't find anything worse than Fan and myself! Better let us take you home."
"Oh, I wish you would," said Mavis, accepting the escort with alacrity. "I don't think I like this dark place. I'm rather scared still. I don't wonder people see bogeys here. If you'd been riding, Bevis, I should certainly have taken you for the headless horseman. He rides here, doesn't he?"
"I'll tackle him for you if we meet him, never fear!" laughed Bevis. "I'll tell him it isn't respectable to go about without a head, and he must put it on again at once! All the same, though" (more gravely), "I think, if I were you, I wouldn't come down this lane in the dark all by yourselves."
"We certainly shan't!"
"It's a good thing I didn't use the hatchet on poor Fan," said Clive, forbearing to mention that he had been huddling in the hedge, much too paralysed to take such violent measures.
"Bless her! She's an angel dog—not a demon!" murmured Merle, fondling the silky ears that pressed close to her dress. "But you gave your auntie rather a scare, darling! Another time you mustn't bounce upon her in the dark! You must be a good girlie, and remember!"
The adventurous trio were not at all sorry to be taken safely to their own gateway by Bevis, but all the same they felt a little disappointed that they had no real peep at phantom forms in the lane. The girls did not intend to tell their experience to William, but Clive let it out, so they had to give him the full account. He looked at them with awe-struck admiration.
"Suppose it had really been the ghost and it had got you!" he ventured.
William took the supernatural side of life seriously. It was no laughing matter to him. On the very next day he came to Merle with important news.
"There's something queer in the wood above the house. I was up there with
Connie, and we both heard it!"