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."