The Story Girl did n't . But she had said enough . There was something in the quality of a ghost with eyeholes but no eyes that froze our young blood . There never were in all the world six more badly scared children than those who huddled in the old King orchard that August night . All at once -- something -- leaped from the bough of a tree and alighted before us . We split the air with a simultaneous shriek . We would have run , one and all , if there had been anywhere to run to . But there was n't -- all around us were only those shadowy arcades . Then we saw with shame that it was only our Paddy . `` Pat , Pat , '' I said , picking him up , feeling a certain comfort in his soft , solid body . `` Stay with us , old fellow . '' But Pat would none of us . He struggled out of my clasp and disappeared over the long grasses with soundless leaps . He was no longer our tame , domestic , well acquainted Paddy . He was a strange , furtive animal -- a `` questing beast . '' Presently the moon rose ; but this only made matters worse . The shadows had been still before ; now they moved and danced , as the night wind tossed the boughs . The old house , with its dreadful secret , was white and clear against the dark background of spruces . We were woefully tired , but we could not sit down because the grass was reeking with dew . `` The Family Ghost only appears in daylight , '' said the Story Girl .
`` I would n't mind seeing a ghost XXXXX daylight .
against as because before from if in of than with