"To me it shall be sacred, William. I will tell no one--not even your
parents. I believe that children see--clouds of glory and all that,"
vaguely. "With your unstained childish vision----"
"I'm eleven," put in William indignantly.
"You see things that to the wise are sealed. Some manifestation, some
spirit, some ghostly visitant----"
"Oh," said William, suddenly enlightened, "you talkin' about
_ghosts_?"
"Yes, ghosts, William."
Her air of deference flattered him. She evidently expected great
things of him. Great things she should have. At the best of times with
William imagination was stronger than cold facts.
He gave a short laugh.
"Oh, _ghosts_! Yes, I've seen some of 'em. I guess I _have_!"
Her face lit up.
"Will you tell me some of your experiences, William?" she said,
humbly.
"Well," said William, loftily, "you won't go _talkin'_ about it, will
you?"
"Oh, _no_."
"Well, I've seen 'em, you know. Chains an' all. And skeletons. And
ghostly arms beckonin' an' all that."
William was enjoying himself. He walked with a swagger. He almost
believed what he said. She gasped.
"Oh, go on!" she said. "Tell me all."
He went on. He soared aloft on the wings of imagination, his hands in
his pockets, his freckled face puckered up in frowning mental effort.
He certainly enjoyed himself.
"If only some of it could happen to _me_," breathed his confidante.
"Does it come to you at _nights_, William?"
"Yes," nodded William.
Pages:
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96