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and all through his time at school Howard had been called Pointless Percival. That kind of thing can leave its mark and it was not surprising that Howard was so withdrawn and shy and spent his life sorting and cataloguing books. But though the children were sorry for him, they had no time to waste.
    ‘Cousin Howard, we’ve got to do something to make more people come to the castle. We’ve simply got to,’ said Madlyn. ‘Otherwise the cattle will have to be sold and maybe the castle too and—’
    ‘Oh, don’t say that!’ The thought of leaving his home made poor Howard tremble. ‘So we have to find a way of attracting more visitors, and we thought if we could show them some proper ghosts – real spectres – they’d come and tell their friends and—’
    A heart-rending wail – a wail of true despair – came from Cousin Howard.
    ‘Oh, no . . . No! It’s impossible. It is quite out of the question. George has asked me, and Emily too – but I’ve had to refuse. Showing myself to all those people . . . Appearing and disappearing. I couldn’t. I absolutely couldn’t.’
    And he began to shiver so badly that his outline became quite blurred.
    The children looked at each other. They were very distressed by the misunderstanding, and the pain they had caused poor Howard.
    ‘We don’t mean you, Cousin Howard,’ said Madlyn.
    ‘We wouldn’t think of asking you,’ said Rollo reassuringly.
    ‘We need proper ghosts. Really scary ones with . . . oh, you know, heads that come off, and daggers in their chests, and that kind of thing,’ said Ned – and then blushed because it seemed rude to suggest that Howard was not a proper ghost.
    But Cousin Howard was terribly relieved. ‘Oh, I see. Well, that’s all right then. I really don’t think I would do, you know. I tripped on my dressing-gown cord on the stairs and broke my neck, but it was a clean break – there’s no blood or anything.’ He bent his head and leaned forward to show them, and really there was hardly anything to see – just a slight dent in the ectoplasm. ‘And I have never felt inclined to gibber or howl or anything like that,’ Howard went on. ‘It isn’t what I do . But if it isn’t me you want, why have you come?’
    ‘We thought you might know where we could find some other ghosts. The kind that would be terrifying,’ said Madlyn. ‘We thought you might have friends.’
    Howard was shocked. ‘Friends! Oh, dear me no! I don’t have friends. I don’t go out much, you see. I hardly ever go out.’
    But the children just looked at him steadily.
    ‘Please could you try and help us?’ said Madlyn. ‘Please?’
    ‘It’s for the cows,’ said Rollo.

C HAPTER S EVEN
     
    O live Trembellow was perfectly correct, as she always was. On the following Open Day there were three hundred and fifty visitors to Trembellow – and the number of visitors going to Clawstone was down to seven.
    So now she was doing what she liked best in all the world.
    She was doing sums.
    She was multiplying the number of visitors who had come to Trembellow on the last Open Day by the amount each of them had paid, and the answer was coming to a figure with a lot of noughts at the end. Olive liked figures with noughts on the end. She liked them very much.
    When she had checked her calculations she went to see her father in his study.
    Lord Trembellow was doing business with his son Neville, who had come up from London, and a builder he had brought with him, but he didn’t mind being interrupted. Olive was almost a business partner herself.
    ‘Look, Daddy – we’ve taken nearly four thousand pounds today. We had three hundred and fifty visitors and Clawstone only had seven – and one of those was a spy.’
    Lord Trembellow nodded. He had sent one of his staff, a man who was new to the district and would not be recognized, to join the visitors going round Clawstone.
    ‘You’ve never seen such a ramshackle place,’ he had told Lord Trembellow when he came