He was so confused and blinded by drink and fright, that he did not see the second ghost divest himself of his encumbrances, or know that it was John Gardener, till that rosy-cheeked worthy, his clenched hands still flaming with brimstone, danced round him, and shouted scornfully, and with that vehemence of aspiration, in which he was apt to indulge when excited: "Get hup, yer great cowardly booby, will yer?
So you thought you was coming hout to frighten a little lad, did ye?
And you met with one of your hown size, did ye?
Now _will_ ye get hup and take it like a man, or shall I give it you as ye lie there ?" Bully Tom chose the least of two evils, and staggering to his feet with an oath, rushed upon John.

But in his present condition he was no match for the active little gardener, inspired with just wrath, and thoughts of Bessy; and he then and there received such a sound thrashing as he had not known since he first arrogated the character of village bully.

He was roaring loudly for mercy, and John Gardener was giving him a harmless roll in the mud by way of conclusion, when he caught sight of the two young gentlemen in the lane--Master Arthur in fits of laughter at the absurd position of the ex-Yew-lane Ghost and Mr.Lindsay standing still and silent, with folded arms, set lips, and the gold eye-glass on his nose.

As soon as he saw them, he began to shout, "Murder! help!" at the top of his voice.
"I see myself," said Master Arthur, driving his hands contemptuously into his pockets--"I see myself helping a great lout who came out to frighten a child, and can neither defend his own eyes and nose, nor take a licking with a good grace when he deserves it!" Bully Tom appealed to Mr.Lindsay.
"Yah! yah!" he howled: "will you see a man killed for want of help ?" But the clever young gentleman seemed even less inclined to give his assistance.
"Killed!" he said contemptuously; "I _have_ seen a lad killed on such a night as this, by such a piece of bullying! Be thankful you have been stopped in time! I wouldn't raise my little finger to save you from twice such a thrashing.

It has been fairly earned! Give the ghost his shroud, Gardener, and let him go; and recommend him not to haunt Yew-lane in future." John did so, with a few words of parting advice on his own account.
"Be hoff with you," he said.