"Why not?"
"Will you promise you won't say anything? I wouldn't tell any one else but you, because I know they would only laugh at me, and say I was a coward."
"I won't say anything," answered the boy, smiling. "Come on—out with it! What's been the matter with you the last few days?"
Brian never broke his promises; his word was always to be trusted. It was with almost a sigh of relief that Elsie prepared to unburden herself of a secret which she had hitherto been keeping locked within her own bosom.
"I had an awful fright," she began. "You know when we were playing 'I spy' I went into the tool-house, and I—I saw something."
"Well, what did you see?"
"O Bri!" continued the girl, lowering her voice, and the startled look appearing once more on her face, "I saw William Cole!"
"Saw William Cole!" repeated Brian in astonishment. "What on earth d'you mean? Why, William, poor fellow, is drowned, and at the bottom of the sea, hundreds of miles from here."
"I know," gasped Elsie breathlessly. "But I saw him, all the same. The light of the lamp fell right on him. He was standing quite still, looking at me. I saw him as plainly as I see you now; and—O Bri," the child continued, covering her eyes with her hands, "I'm afraid to be left alone in the dark for fear I should see him again."
Brian felt sorry for his little cousin.