Staggering across the floor, she seized the man's arm.
Father Benedict pushed her backwards onto the bed.
"You are a cruel, heartless man!" Mrs. Hawthorne sobbed. The bed shook
convulsively beneath her weight as she lay where Father Benedict had
pushed her.
Penny was sorely tempted to go to the woman's assistance, but reason told
her it would be sheer folly to betray her presence. Everything depended
upon getting quickly and safely out of the monastery. If she failed,
Father Benedict undoubtedly would escape, leaving them all locked in the
building.
The monk now had finished searching the dresser and turned his attention
to a suitcase. With professional skill and thoroughness, he ripped open
the lining. Likewise, he explored every garment hem and pocket.
"To think that I ever trusted you!" Mrs. Hawthorne cried bitterly. "Oh, I
see it all now! From the very first, you were after the sapphire!"
"And I have it too!" cried the man in triumph.
His sensitive, exploring fingers had come upon a small, hard object sewed
into the hem of one of Mrs. Hawthorne's frocks.
"Don't you dare take the stone!" the woman screamed. "I'll have you
arrested as a common thief!"
"You'll never get out of this room," chuckled the monk. "I intend to lock
you in!"
The boast threw Penny into a panic. Not for an instant did she doubt that
Father Benedict would carry out his threat. If he locked Mrs. Hawthorne
in, she too would be a prisoner!
Penny had no time to plan strategy or reason out the best course.
Already, Father Benedict had removed the gem from the hem of the garment.
Before he could examine it, or move toward the door, Penny, with a mighty
"whoosh" blew out the candle.
Scrambling from beneath the bed, she darted to the door.
Taken by surprise, Father Benedict was too slow to intercept her. She
slammed the door in his face, groping frantically for a key.
Finding none, she knew the monk must have the only one on his person.
"The fat's in the fire now for sure!" she thought in panic.
Penny raced across the balcony and down the stone steps to the cloister.
In this emergency the pillars, though shadowed, offered no protection
whatsoever. Nor was the dry fountain bed a safe place in which to hide.
Pounding footsteps warned that there was no time in which to search for a
hideout. The only possible place was under an old tarpaulin which lay in
a heap on the tiles beside the fountain.
Wriggling beneath the canvas, Penny pulled the folds over her head.
Barely had she flattened herself on the floor than Father Benedict
pounded into the cloister. So close did he pass to where she lay, that
Penny could hear his heavy breathing.
"Now where did that brat go?" he muttered. "She's here somewhere!"
The monk rang a bell which brought Winkey on the run.
"I've looked everywhere for that Parker girl," he reported before the
master could speak. "She must have got away."
"Fool!" rasped the monk. "She has been hiding in Mrs. Hawthorne's room!
She saw me take the sapphire!"
"You mean you got the gem, boss?"
"Here in my hand. Hold your lantern closer and see for yourself."
A long pause followed. Penny guessed that the two men were inspecting the
gem beneath a light. She was unprepared for the next explosive comment of
Father Benedict.
"I've been tricked!" he muttered. "This isn't the sapphire Mrs. Hawthorne
showed me in Florida! It's only a cheap imitation!"
"Maybe that girl sneaked in and took it herself!"
"If she did it will be the worse for her! I know Mrs. Hawthorne brought a
genuine sapphire into this house. Either her granddaughter has it, or
this Parker pest!"
"What'll we do, boss?"
"We're leaving here as quickly as we can get away," Father Benedict said
decisively. "We've over-played our hand and our luck has run out."
"You mean we're going without the sapphire?" grumbled Winkey. "After all
our work?"
"We'll get the sapphire. First, we must make certain that Parker girl
doesn't slip out of the building."
"I let the dogs loose in the yard. And the windows and doors are all
locked. If she tries to get out, they'll set up a yip."
"Good! She must be somewhere in the house and we'll soon find her."
"How much did she learn, boss?"
"I don't know, but enough to jail us both! Go to my study and destroy all
the papers you find there. Then bring the car to the rear exit."
"How soon we leaving?"
"Fifteen minutes."
"Can you get the sapphire in that time?" Winkey asked doubtfully. "What
if the old lady holds out?"
"I've locked her in her room. Also the other women. I'll not bother with
Mrs. Hawthorne. There are quicker methods."
"Her granddaughter?"
"Exactly. We'll carry out my original plan. Miss Rhoda will be glad to
talk when I have finished with her!"
"It's kinda harsh treatment--"
"Do as you are told!" Father Benedict cut in sharply.
"Okay, boss," agreed Winkey. "I'll sure be glad to shake the dust of this
place off my feet. This cult racket never was in our line. We got in
deeper than we figured."
"Do less talking and more thinking!" snapped the monk. "I'll take care of
Rhoda and have the sapphire within fifteen minutes. She's asleep by this
time, I hope."
"I looked in through the peephole a minute ago," the hunchback informed.
"Sleeping like a babe!"
"Good!" Father Benedict approved. His final order sent an icy chill down
Penny's spine. "Give me your lantern, Winkey. I'll go below now and turn
on the machinery."
CHAPTER
21
_SNATCHED FROM THE FLAMES_
From beneath the dusty tarpaulin, Penny had listened tensely as Father
Benedict and Winkey planned their escape.
She knew that by morning they would be in another state, beyond reach of
Riverview police.
Fifteen minutes! The time was so short--too short for her to summon
authorities even if she could reach a telephone.
And what of Rhoda in the chapel bedroom? Father Benedict had spoken of
turning on machinery in the cellar! What machinery did he mean?
A great fear arose within Penny. Rhoda was in great danger! She must make
every effort to save her--but how?
Father Benedict and his servant now were leaving the cloister, walking
directly toward the canvas under which the girl huddled.
Suddenly, to Penny's horror, the dust of the tarpaulin began to irritate
her nose.
She fought against an impulse to sneeze but could not control it. Though
she pressed both hands against her nose, a muffled ker-chew came from
beneath the canvas.
Father Benedict halted, looking sharply about the darkened cloister.
"What was that?" he demanded.
"I didn't hear nothin'," replied Winkey, flashing his lantern on the
pillars.
"I thought someone sneezed."
"You're getting jumpy, boss," insisted the hunchback. "I sure didn't hear
nothing."
"What's that over there by the fountain?" Father Benedict demanded,
noticing the tarpaulin.
"Only an old piece of canvas. I brought it up from the basement this
afternoon."
"For a second, I thought I saw it moving!"
"You've sure got the jumps," said Winkey. "If you want me to look for
that girl again, I'll give the place a good going over."
"No, there's no time!" the monk decided. "As long as the dogs are loose
in the yard, she never can get out of here without them sounding an
alarm. Then we'll nab her."
"I'll go after the car and have it at the rear exit before you're ready
to leave," the hunchback promised. "Just be sure you get the sapphire!"
"Leave it to me," said Father Benedict grimly. His voice faded away and
Penny knew that the two conspirators were at last leaving the cloister.
Waiting a moment longer to be certain they would not change their minds
and return, she extricated herself from the folds of the grimy canvas.
"Wow! That was a close call!" she told herself. "If what Father Benedict
said is true, then I'm trapped in this building along with the others!
What a predicament!"
Penny groped for her flashlight and was reassured to find it still in her
pocket. She tested it briefly, then switched it off again.
Tiptoeing down a long, damp-smelling corridor, she passed a window.
Hopeful that it might be unlocked, she paused to test it.
Not only was the catch fastened, but the window also had been nailed.
Peering out, she gazed hopefully toward the distant road. No cars were in
sight. Nor was there a light gleaming in the windows of the Eckenrod
cabin, over the hill.
Instead, Penny saw an ugly hound circling the monastery grounds, his nose
to the earth.
"Winkey already has turned the dogs loose!" she thought in dismay. "I
haven't a chance to get out of here quickly!"
Switching on her flashlight for an instant, Penny looked at her
wristwatch. In astonishment, she saw that it was only twenty minutes
after nine. She had assumed the hour to be much later, so many events had
transpired since her arrival at the monastery.
"If only I could let the _Star_ office know of my predicament!" she
thought. "Mr. DeWitt won't even wonder what's become of me before ten
o'clock. By that time Father Benedict and Winkey will be miles from
here!"
The main gate of the monastery had been closed and locked. Penny reasoned
that even if she were able to get out of the building, the dogs would be
upon her before she could scale the high boundary fence, and make her
escape.
As she hesitated at the window, debating whether or not to smash the
glass and take a chance, she heard the roar of an automobile motor.
For a moment she was hopeful a car was coming down the road. Then, with a
sinking heart she realized that it was Winkey bringing the big black
automobile from the front of the house to the rear exit.
"The minute he and Father Benedict get their thieving hands on the
sapphire, they'll leave here!" she reasoned. "Oh, why can't I think of
some way to stop them?"
Penny had left her own car parked on the road not far from the monastery.
She was hopeful that should her father or anyone from the newspaper
office seek her, they would see the car and deduct that she was somewhere
inside the ancient building.
"But no one will come until it's too late," she thought. "Mrs. Weems
probably went to bed early and didn't tell Dad I came here. Mr. DeWitt
won't think about it until nearly deadline time at the _Star_."
Outside, the hounds kept roaming the grounds. Penny had never seen such
vicious looking animals.
Abandoning all hope of getting away without risking being torn to pieces,
she decided her wisest course would be to keep hidden until Father
Benedict had driven away.
"Maybe by staying, I can help Rhoda," she reflected. "Father Benedict
intends to force her to tell where the sapphire is hidden!"
With noiseless tread she started toward the chapel bedroom which adjoined
the church ruins. In passing the monk's study she noticed that the door
stood slightly ajar.
Peering cautiously in, she saw that the room was in disarray. All of
Father Benedict's clothing, art treasures, and personal belongings had
been removed. Drawers of the desk had been emptied of their contents.
In the fireplace, flames leaped merrily. Plainly, the monk had disposed
of many papers by consigning them to the fire.
At the edge of the hearth lay several sheets torn from a notebook. One of
the pages had caught fire and was burning slowly.
Recognizing it as a sheet listing society contributions, Penny darted
forward and stamped out the flames.
Only half of the paper had been charred. Many of the names still could be
read. Folding the good section, she placed it in her coat pocket.
Two other pages which had not caught fire proved to be blank.
Unable to rescue anything else from the flames, Penny quitted the study
and moved hurriedly toward the chapel bedroom.
From the dormitories she now could hear muffled cries and poundings which
told her cult members had discovered themselves locked in their rooms.
"I can't get them out without keys," Penny thought. "But if they make
enough noise, someone may hear and come here to investigate."
The closing of a nearby door brought the girl up short. As she froze
against the passageway wall, Father Benedict stepped from the closet
adjoining the bedroom where Rhoda was imprisoned.
Instantly Penny guessed that he had been watching the girl through the
peephole.
Father Benedict's satisfaction as he started toward the ruined church was
frightening to behold. Thin lips were twisted into an ugly smile, and as
he passed within a few feet of where Penny stood he muttered:
"Ah rest!--no rest but change of place and posture;
Ah sleep--no sleep but worn-out posture; Nature's swooning;
Ah bed!--no bed but cushion fill'd with stones."
CHAPTER
22
_THE CANOPIED BED_
In the chapel bedroom Rhoda Hawthorne had been greatly cheered to realize
that soon she might be freed from imprisonment.
The brief conversation with Penny through the closet peephole encouraged
her to believe that almost at once help would come.
_Penny is proving to be one of the best friends I ever had and I hardly
know her_, she thought. _I wish now I had told her everything, especially
about the sapphire._
With regret the girl recalled how she had rebuffed Penny and Louise on
the occasion when they had offered her a ride into Riverview.
But at that time she had considered them strangers who only meant to pry
into her affairs. _If I had told everything then, Grandmother and I might
have been spared much suffering_, she reflected. _I should have asked
them to take me to the police._ _The worst mistake of my life was coming
back to this horrible place._
Restlessly, Rhoda tramped about the chapel room. The air was very stuffy
and the absence of windows distressed her. She felt oppressed, as if the
four walls were pressing in upon her.
The room was scantily furnished with only the huge canopied bed, an old
fashioned dresser, and a table. There were no chairs.
Groping on the dresser, the girl found a stub of a candle in a holder. At
first she could discover no matches. However, after examining all the
dresser drawers, she came upon one.
Shielding it carefully from draughts, she managed to light it and ignite
the wick of the candle.
"It won't burn longer than twenty minutes," she estimated. "But by that
time, perhaps Penny will be back here with help."
The dim light depressed rather than cheered the girl. Cold currents of
air coming from the chinks of the walls caused the flame to flicker
weirdly, and almost go out.
A grotesque figure weaved like a huge shadow-boxer on the expanse of
smoky plaster. At first, watching it in fascination, Rhoda could not
determine its cause. Then, with no little relief, she decided it was a
shadow of the bed draperies, moving slightly with the draughts of cold
air.
The room had no heat. Soon, against her will, Rhoda was driven by the
chill to seek the warmth of the canopied bed.
With repugnance she eyed the strange, old-fashioned piece of furniture
which dominated the room. The bed was wide enough to accommodate three or
four persons comfortably. Tall posters of twisted wood supported a carved
framework to which were attached dusty, scarlet draperies.
A moth-eaten carpet covered a section of floor directly beneath the
bedstead. Rhoda gave it only a passing glance and did not think to look
under its curling, frayed edges.
With a shiver of distaste, she pulled aside the draperies and crawled
into the bed. No cover had been provided, but there were clean sheets.
The damp-smelling spread offered a little relief from the cold.
For some time Rhoda lay staring at the beamed ceiling and trying in her
mind to reconstruct the old chapel as it might have been in the days when
the monastery was a religious center.
The girl had not the slightest intention of falling asleep. She felt wide
awake, tense in every muscle. Not a sound escaped her, and every noise
seemed intensified.
A board creaked.
_It's nothing_, she told herself. _All old houses make strange sounds,
especially when a wind is blowing._
Yet disturbing thoughts plagued the girl. What did Father Benedict intend
to do with her? Why had he locked her in this particular room?
Suddenly Rhoda stiffened and clutched the sheet convulsively. Was it
imagination or had she heard a low moan?
The sound had seemed to come from beneath the bed. Half tempted to look
beneath the draperies, she resisted the impulse.
_I did hear something_, she thought. _It sounded as if someone were in
pain. And the noise came from the cellar below!_
Now to torment the girl came reflections of unexplained happenings since
her arrival at the monastery. On several nights she had heard
disturbances from the cellar region. Winkey, she knew, made frequent
trips to the crypt upon one pretext or another.
Suddenly Rhoda was startled by a light and repeated tapping on the wall
near the closet peephole.
Certain that it was Penny who had returned, she leaped out of bed and
bounded across the room.
The panel of wood moved back and two eyes peered in at her.
"Is that you, Penny?" Rhoda whispered eagerly.
"Julia!" was the answer.
"Oh," Rhoda murmured in bitter disappointment. "I hoped--"
"Master send you some supper," the servant mumbled. "Bread and coffee."
"I don't want them!"
"Better you eat and drink," Julia admonished. "But do not sleep. This
room is evil--evil!"
"You're telling me!" retorted Rhoda, lapsing into slang. "All I want is
to get out of here. Julia, let me free and I'll pay you well! I'll give
you anything you want!"
"No key."
"But you know where it is kept?"
"The master keep keys on him always."
"He would! Can't you trick him or something?" Seeing the old woman's
blank stare, Rhoda sighed and answered her own question. "No, it's too
much to expect. But maybe you could slip away from here and bring help--"
"Master never let me out of the house. My place is in the kitchen. I must
go there now--to the kitchen."
"Wait!" Rhoda checked her. "You say Father Benedict sent some food? On
second thought, I'll take it. He may not give me anything again for a
long while. I expect to be out of here soon, but something could go
wrong."
Rhoda longed to ask Old Julia if she had seen Penny or if the girl had
escaped. However, knowing that the old woman might divulge the secret to
Father Benedict, she wisely did not bring up the subject.
Julia thrust a hard crust of bread in through the peephole, and then
shoved a cup of steaming black coffee into her hand.
"Thanks, Julia," Rhoda said. "I know you mean well. Working in a place
like this isn't your fault. How did you ever meet Father Benedict
anyhow?"
The question was an unfortunate one. Apparently, unpleasant recollections
stirred in the woman's brain, for her eyes became wild. She muttered
gibberish Rhoda could not understand. Then she slammed shut the peephole.
A moment later, Rhoda heard her footsteps as she left the closet and
retreated down the corridor.
"Poor old Julia," she sighed. "Wonder if I'll ever come to the same pass
she's in? I'm sure I will if I have to spend a night in this torture
chamber!"
Shivering, Rhoda climbed back into bed. She bit into the bread.
Discovering it to be moldy, she hurled it into a far corner of the room.
Rhoda was cold and the hot coffee smelled good. She sipped it cautiously.
The brew tasted peculiar, sweetish and unlike any coffee she ever had had
before. Nevertheless, it was hot and would warm her chilled bones
perhaps.
She drank the entire cupful and leaned back on the pillow.
_What was it Julia said_, she mused drowsily. _Oh, yes, I must stay
awake. Must stay awake._
But the warmth of the bed was closing in on her, inviting her to shut her
eyes. Though she fought against it, she could feel sleep taking
possession of her.
She tried to raise her hand and found it too heavy to lift. Only then did
the frightening truth seep into her mind. She had been drugged!
Undoubtedly, Father Benedict had slipped a heavy sleeping powder into the
coffee! And she stupidly had drunk all of the brew.
The sound of the peephole panel moving again, aroused her momentarily
from the stupor into which she rapidly was falling.
Rhoda saw a face at the opening and recognized Father Benedict. He spoke
no word, but gazed at her with an expression of evil gloating.
The girl tried to move but her limbs seemed paralyzed. She could not
stir.
Then the panel closed and Father Benedict had gone.
Rhoda fell into a sleep only to be rudely awakened as the huge bed gave a
slight jerk. The stupefied girl could not think where she was for a
moment.
Her head was a-whirl and the room seemed to be spinning. Like a person
taking ether, she felt as if she were slipping farther and farther away
from reality with each breath.
The canopied bed had come to life and was moving slowly downward through
an opening in the floor.
Rhoda stifled an impulse to laugh. Perspiration broke out in every pore
as she suddenly knew that it was not a dream nor a horrible imagining.
_The bed actually was moving!_
As she realized her desperate plight, the girl struggled to free herself
from the bed clothing. But her limbs refused to obey the commands of her
mind. Paralyzed with fright, she tried to scream and made only a choking
sound in her throat.
CHAPTER
23
_DESCENT INTO THE CRYPT_
Meanwhile, a great fear had taken possession of Penny as she saw Father
Benedict leave the chapel bedroom closet and disappear down a corridor
leading into the ruins of the church.
The expression of his face and his evil mutterings warned her that the
man thoroughly enjoyed his role, despite his insistence that he abhorred
violence.
Fearing for Rhoda's safety, Penny waited only until he had vanished. Then
she slipped into the closet of the bedroom and fumbled for the peephole
opening.
She found it and peered anxiously into the darkened bed chamber. Rhoda
was lying on the canopied bed, apparently sound asleep.
"Rhoda!" Penny called in a loud whisper.
The girl did not stir.
As Penny whispered the name still louder, she saw the bed jerk. The floor
beneath it began to move slowly downward.
In horror, Penny recalled what Jake Cotton, the carpenter, had told her
about repairing the ancient lift. Rhoda was being lowered into the crypt
below!
"Rhoda!" she cried. "Wake up! Quick! Jump out of bed!"
The girl seemed to hear for she moved slightly and made a choking sound
in her throat. But she could not extricate herself from the slowly
descending bed.
Numb with despair, Penny saw the girl disappear beyond view. There was a
whine of machinery as the bed apparently came to a standstill on the
subterranean floor below.
Then after a moment, she heard movement again. The bed slowly ascended. A
glance sufficed to show Penny that it was empty.
"I've got to help her!" she thought. "That fiend will torture her into
telling where the sapphire is hidden if I don't think of some scheme for
saving her. But how?"
Quitting the closet, Penny sought the same passageway Father Benedict had
taken into the ruined church.
As she cautiously opened the squeaky door, she saw before her shattered
Gothic columns which once had supported a magnificent roof. Now dim stars
cast a ghostly light over a mass of piled-up rubble.
Walls, however, had proved remarkably sturdy, rising to a height Penny
could not hope to scale. There were no visible exits.
"Where did Father Benedict go?" she speculated. "Steps must lead down to
the crypt."
Penny flashed her light about, seeking an opening. Investigating a pile
of stone which had tumbled from an archway, she was elated to find her
search at an end. Behind the piled up rocks, cleverly concealed, was a
vaulted stone passage and stairway leading down.
Though Penny knew it was highly dangerous to venture below, she did not
hesitate. A step at a time, and pausing frequently to listen, she stole
down toward the inky blackness of the crypt.
The stone walls on either side of the narrow, curving stairway were cold
and clammy to the touch. Water dripped from overhead.
Ahead, in a sunken recess amid the stones, the girl suddenly saw a
shadowy figure. Startled, she jerked to a standstill. Then, observing
that the object was not a human being but a rusty coat of armor, she
breathed easier and went on.
A minute later, as she crept around a turn of the stairway, terror
gripped her at first glimpse of the dimly lighted burial crypt.
In grim, orderly rows were the elaborately carved stone sarcophaguses of
former residents of the monastery.