"Keep me, O keep me, King of kings,"
he caught Mr. Lindsay's eyes fixed on him, and back came the thoughts of his terrible fright, with a little shame too at his own timidity. Which of us trusts as we should do in the "defence of the Most High"?
Bill lingered as he had done the last time, and went out with the "grown-ups." It had been raining, and the ground was wet and sludgy, though it was fair overhead. The wind was cold too, and Mr. Lindsay began to cough so violently, that Bill felt rather ashamed of taking him so far out of his way, through the damp, chilly lane, and began to wonder whether he could not summon up courage to go alone. The result was, that with some effort he said—
"Please, Mr. Lindsay, sir, I think you won't like to come so far this cold night. I'll try and manage, if you like."
Mr. Lindsay laid one hand on Bill's shoulder, and said quietly—
"No, thank you, my boy, we'll come with you. Thank you, all the same."
"Nevertheless, Bartram," said Master Arthur, "I wish you could keep that cough of yours quiet—it will spoil everything. A boy was eating peppermints in the shade of his copybook this very night. I did box his ears; but I wish I had seized the goodies, they might have kept you quiet."
"Thank you," was the reply, "I abhor peppermint; but I have got some lozenges, if that will satisfy you. And when I smell ghosts, I can smother myself in my pocket-handkerchief."
Master Arthur laughed boisterously.
"We shall smell one if brimstone will do it. I hope he won't set himself on fire, or the scenic effect will be stronger than we bargained for."