"You don't go, do you?"
"Yes, I do," said Bill, trying not to feel ashamed of the fact. "Father can't spare me to the day-school now, so our Bessy persuaded him to let me go at nights."
Bully Tom's face looked a shade darker, and the pendulum took a swing which it was fortunate the lad avoided; but the conversation continued with every appearance of civility.
"You come back by Yew-lane, I suppose?"
"Yes."
"Why, there's no one lives your way but old Johnson; you must come back alone?"
"Of course I do," said Bill, beginning to feel vaguely uncomfortable.
"It must be dark now before school looses?" was the next inquiry; and the boy's discomfort increased, he hardly knew why, as he answered—
"There's a moon."
"So there is," said Bully Tom, in a tone of polite assent; "and there's a weathercock on the church steeple; but I never heard of either of 'em coming down to help a body, whatever happened."