Charles came forward, ousting his wife from her place by the invalid's side. "What did you see, Aunt Lilian?" he asked. "Do you feel well enough to tell us about it?"
"Certainly I am well enough to tell you," she said. "My dears, it is all perfectly true, and I am not ashamed to own that I have been wrong. The house is haunted, and the first thing to be done in the morning is to summon the Vicar."
Celia gave a gasp of horror, and clasped her brother's arm nervously. "Oh, what have you seen?" she cried.
Mrs. Bosanquet took the glass of water from Margaret, and drank some. "I have seen the Monk!" she said dramatically.
"Good Lord!" Peter exclaimed. "You haven't really, have you? Are you sure you didn't imagine it?"
A withering glance was cast at him. "It is true that I so far forgot myself as to scream, and faint, but I can assure you, my dear Peter, that I am not such a fool that I would imagine such a thing. It was standing almost exactly where you are now, and it began to move towards me, with its arm stretched out as though it were pointing at me."
Celia shuddered, and looked round fearfully. Just what did it look like?" Charles asked quietly.
"Like a monk," said Mrs. Bosanquet. "It had a cowl over its face, and I trust I am not a fanciful woman, but there was something indescribably menacing and horrible about it. I can see its eyes now."
"Where?" shrieked Celia, clutching Peter again.
"In my mind's eye. Don't be foolish, my dear, it is not here now. Its robe was black, and so were its hands - at least the one that pointed at me was. I daresay I am stupid, but that seemed to me to make it even more unnerving."
Charles turned quickly towards Peter. "That settles it! Gloves! Now how did he make his get-away?"
"Almost any way," Peter said. "He'd have had plenty of time to get across the hall before any of us reached the stairs."
"It is no use being obstinate about it," Mrs. Bosanquet said. "It was no man,, but an apparition. I am now convinced of the existence of such things. Perhaps it was sent to open my eyes."
"All dressed up in a Dominican habit and black gloves," said Charles. "I hardly think so. Take a look at the front door, Peter."
"Bolted, and the chain in position. I happened to notice. What about this window?"
Charles strode across to it, and flung back the curtains. "It's bolted - no, by Jove, it's not!" He turned to Bowers, who up till now had been a scared auditor. "Bowers, do you remember if you bolted this to-night?"
Bowers shook his head. "No, sir. At least, I don't think so. Begging your pardon, sir, but the mistress always likes it left open till you go up to bed. I thought you bolted it."
"That's right," Peter said. "And to-night we sat in the drawing-room. That's how it got forgotten. Cheer up, Aunt Lilian! What you saw was someone dressed up to give you a fright, and that's how he got in."
"No, my dear, you are wrong," Mrs. Bosanquet said firmly. "It had no need of doors or windows. For all we know it is still present, though now invisible."
Celia gave one moan of horror, and implored Charles to take her back to town at once.
"I think we'd all better go back to bed for the rest of the night, and discuss it in the morning," Charles said. "I don't see that we shall do much good trying to search the garden now. We'll bolt this window, though. And what about having Margaret to sleep in your room, Aunt? Would you prefer it?"
"Not at all," she replied. "If it re-appeared, Margaret would be of no assistance to me, or any of you. I shall go quietly up, and to sleep, for I feel I shall not see it again to-night."
On account of the night's disturbance breakfast was put back next morning for an hour, but contrary to everyone's expectations Mrs. Bosanquet was the first down. When Celia, Margaret, and Peter appeared they found her looking as placid as ever, and reading the morning paper. "Good morning, my dears," she said, laying the paper down. "I see there has been fresh trouble in China. I feel one has so much to be thankful for in not being Chinese."
"Darling Aunt Lilian!" said Margaret, twinkling. "You really are a marvellous person!"
"On the contrary I fear I am a very ordinary one. And why you should think so merely because I remarked…'
"Oh, I didn't! But after what you went through last night I wonder you can be so calm."
"I lay awake and thought about that for some time after you had left me," said Mrs. Bosanquet. "Do you know, I have come to the conclusion that I behaved very foolishly?"
Celia looked up hopefully. "Do you mean you may have imagined it after all?"
"No, my dear, certainly not. I am not at all imaginative. In fact, your uncle used very often to say I was too mundane. But then he was extremely imaginative himself, and could tell the most entertaining stories, as I daresay you remember."
"Then how did you behave foolishly?" asked Peter, helping himself from one of the dishes on the sideboard.
"In screaming in that uncontrolled manner. I realise now that my proper course would have been to have challenged the apparition, and commanded it to tell me what it wanted. For, on thinking it over, I am convinced it manifested itself for some good purpose. Thank you, Peter, yes, I will have an egg." She began to tap the shell briskly. "It is obviously an unquiet spirit, and when you consider that it no doubt belongs to the remains you discovered in that very nasty, airless little cupboard, one can hardly wonder at it."
"I do wish you wouldn't, Aunt!" begged Celia. "Even in broad daylight you give me the creeps."
"Then you are being very silly, dear child. Good morning, Charles. I hope you slept well to make up for your loss of sleep earlier in the night."
Charles took his seat at the head of the table. "I am grateful for the inquiry, Aunt, but no, I didn't. I might have, but for the fact that I was constrained to get up three times; once to look under the bed, once to open the wardrobe, once to demonstrate to your niece that the noise she persistently heard was the wind rustling the creeper outside the window."
"Well, I'm sorry, darling," Celia said, "but after what happened you can't be surprised that I was nervous."
"Surprise, my love," responded her husband, "was not the emotion I found myself a prey to."
"Perhaps it'll convince you that the only thing to do is to go back to town this very day," Celia said pleadingly.
"I confess that a prospect of any more such nights doesn't attract me," said Charles. "But what's the opinion of Aunt Lilian?"
"I was about to say, when you came in," answered Mrs. Bosanquet, "that I have considered the matter very carefully, and come to the conclusion that we should be doing wrong to leave the Priory."
Charles paused in the act of conveying a piece of toast from his plate to his mouth, and stared at her. "Well, I'm damned!" he said inelegantly. "Give me some coffee, Celia: I must drink Aunt Lilian's health."
"Very wrong indeed," nodded Mrs. Bosanquet. "Perhaps we have it in our power to set the ghost free. It probably wants us to do something, and to that end it has been endeavouring to attract our notice."
"I see," said Charles gravely. "And probably it can't make out why we all seem so shy of it. I wonder how it'll try to - er - attract our notice next? It's already knocked a picture down, and thrown a skull at our feet, and made you faint. It must be getting quite disheartened at our failure to appreciate the true meaning of these little attentions."
"It is all very well for you to make a mock of such things, Charles," Mrs. Bosanquet said with dignity, "but I am perfectly serious. So much so that I am determined to do my best to get into communication with it. And since Margaret is going to town on Thursday to see her dentist I shall ask her to call at my flat, and request Parker to give her my planchette board, which is in the old brown trunk in the lobby."