Chapter Three
For a moment they stared at one another; then Peter began to laugh. Mr. Ernest Titmarsh, far from being offended, beamed affably upon him. Peter pulled himself together as soon as he could, and said with a quiver in his voice: "I beg your pardon, but really it's rather funny. You see, whenever we catch sight of anyone wandering about in our grounds we think he's a ghost."
Mr. Titmarsh blinked at him. "Dear me, is that so indeed? A ghost, did you say?"
"Yes," Charles said gravely. "It's - it's an idiosyncrasy of ours."
Mr. Titmarsh replaced his hat upon his head, and seemed to give the matter some thought. Light broke upon him. "Of course, of course!" he said. "This is the Priory!"
"Didn't you know?" asked Peter, somewhat surprised.
"Now I come to look about me, yes," replied their eccentric visitor. "But I fear I am very absent-minded. Yes, yes, indeed, I owe you an apology. You are not, I suppose, interested in entomology?"
"I'm afraid I know very little about it," confessed Peter.
"An absorbing study," Mr. Titmarsh said with enthusiasm. "But it leads one into committing acts of trespass, as you perceive. Yes, I am much to blame. I will at once depart."
"Oh, don't do that!" Charles interposed. "We haven't the smallest objection to you - er - catching moths in our grounds. Now we know who you are we shan't take you for a ghost again."