“Someone is inside that building!” Penny exclaimed, recovering from startled surprise.
Tensely, the girls waited, but the sound was not repeated.
“It was a woman’s scream,” Louise whispered after a moment. Nervously, she clung to her chum’s hand as they stood in the shadow of the big iron gate. “What can be happening in there?”
Penny stared at the dark monastery, uncertain what to do. Nowhere was a light visible, yet she felt that not only was the building occupied, but also that alert eyes were watching them from somewhere in the gloomy interior.
“Someone may be in trouble and need help,” she said in an unsteady voice. “Let’s rap on the door and ask.”
“At this time of night?” Louise tugged at her chum’s hand, trying to pull her away. “Let’s go, Penny! It’s really none of our affair what goes on here.”
“But someone may be ill and in need of a doctor.”
“It wasn’t that type of scream,” Louise replied with a shiver. “That cry gave me the creeps!”
Penny allowed herself to be pulled from the gate, only to pause and gaze again at the darkened windows of the ancient monastery.
The only daughter of a newspaper owner, she had been trained to inquire the who, when, why, where, and how of anything unusual. Penny never willingly passed up an opportunity to obtain a good news story for the Riverview Star. She knew that if the old monastery were occupied after standing deserted so many years, the readers of her father’s paper would be interested.
Furthermore, she reasoned, a scream from a darkened house, always called for investigation.
“Louise,” she said with sudden decision. “We can’t leave without trying to find out what’s wrong here! I’m going inside!”
“Oh, Penny—please don’t! This place is so far from other houses. If anything should happen—”
“Something has happened,” replied Penny grimly. “You wait here, Lou. I’ll be right back.”
Despite her chum’s protest, she returned to the big iron gate, and pushing it farther open, stepped inside the grounds.
Intuition warned Penny to proceed cautiously. She sensed rather than saw a dark figure crouching in the arched doorway of the circular stone gatehouse to the right of the snow-banked driveway.
Before she could decide whether the form was real or a product of her imagination, a large, savage dog darted from inside the gatehouse. His low growl warned her it might be dangerous to attempt to pass.
“Come back!” Louise called anxiously. “He’ll tear you apart!”
Though no coward, a second glance at the dog convinced Penny that the animal had been trained to guard the property. Rapidly, she backed away.
Her hand was on the latch of the gate, when in the gatehouse doorway, she beheld a grotesque, deformed human figure.
The sight so startled Penny that for an instant she forgot the dog.
Plainly silhouetted against the gray stone was a hulk of a man with large head and twisted back made unsightly by a hump.
Though his eyes were full upon the girl, he remained motionless, speaking no word.
“Call off your dog!” Penny said sharply.
Only then did the figure move from the doorway into the moonlight.
“Quiet, Bruno!” he ordered in a rasping voice. “Lie down!”
As the dog obeyed, Penny caught her first plain glimpse of the deformed man’s face. His skin was heavily lined and fell in deep folds at his stocky neck. But it was the dark, intent eyes which sent a shiver down her spine.
“Good evening,” she said uneasily.
The gateman did not respond to the greeting. Instead, he demanded gruffly:
“What you doin’ on this property?”
“Why, I was only investigating because the gate was unlocked,” replied Penny. “I didn’t know the house was occupied.”
“You know it now. See that sign!” The gateman turned on his flashlight, focusing it upon a freshly painted placard tacked to a nearby tree.
The sign read, “No Trespassing.”
“I’m sorry,” Penny apologized, but stood her ground. “Are you the new owner of this place?”
“No, I ain’t. I’m the gateman.”
“Then who has taken over the building?”
“What’s it to you?” the hunchback demanded unpleasantly.
“I’m interested, that’s all.”
“This place is being turned into an institution,” the hunchback informed her. “The new owner moved in yesterday. Now git along, so I can lock the gate.”
The gateman’s eagerness to be rid of her made Penny all the more determined to remain until her curiosity was satisfied.
“Perhaps I fancied it,” she remarked, “but a moment ago, I thought I heard a shrill scream from inside the building.”
“You may have heard the howl of the wind.”
“What wind?” Penny inquired pointedly. “It’s a comparatively quiet night. I distinctly heard a scream.”
“Then you got better ears than I have,” the gateman muttered. “Will you go now, or do you want me to call the master?”
“I wish you would!”
Grumbling to himself, the hunchback stepped into the gatehouse and pressed a button which rang a bell inside the building.
A light went on in a downstairs room, and a moment later the front door opened. Framed on the threshold stood a very tall man in dark, hooded robe.
“What’s wrong, Winkey?” he called. “You rang?”
“There’s a girl here wants to see you,” shouted the hunchback. “She says she heard a scream and wants to know how-come.”
Treading lightly in the loose snow, the thin man came down the driveway to the gate. His long, brown robes were impressive, his demeanor pious. Penny suddenly felt very foolish indeed.
“Is anything wrong?” he asked in a kindly, silken-smooth voice.
“This girl’s tryin’ to get in,” announced Winkey. “Says she heard a scream.”
The hooded monk studied Penny with an intent gaze.
“You live near here?” he inquired.
“In Riverview. I was out skiing with a few friends when I passed this old building and heard the scream. Your gateman tried to tell me it was only the wind.”
“My child, doubtlessly you did hear a scream,” the monk replied. “It was Old Julia, a poor woman, who unfortunately sometimes becomes disturbed in her mind.”
“This isn’t a mental institution?” gasped Penny, regretting that her curiosity ever had taken her inside the grounds.
“No, my child,” responded the monk. “Winkey should have explained. We have opened up the old monastery for the purpose of restoring an ancient order in which members dedicate themselves to a life of poverty, good will, and charity.”
“The one you call Old Julia—she also is a member?”
The monk sighed deeply. “Old Julia is only an unfortunate whose twisted mind never can be healed by doctors. Because she had no home—no friends, I have taken her beneath my roof.”
“I see,” nodded Penny. “I’m very sorry to have troubled you.”
“A natural mistake, my child. Is there anything else you wish to know? We have no secrets here—only serene faith and hope for a better world.”
“I might inquire your name.”
“Members of my flock call me Father Benedict. My baptismal name is Jay Highland. And yours?”
“Penny Parker. My father owns the Riverview Star.”
“A newspaper?” The monk’s inquiry was sharp.
“One of the best in the city,” Penny said proudly.
“Your father sent you here, perhaps?”
“Oh, no! I was just passing by and noticed the buildings were occupied.”
“To be sure,” murmured the monk. “I trust you will use discretion in mentioning our work here. Should we become too well known, a path will be beaten to our door, and the privacy of our order will be no more.”
“I’ll scarcely mention it,” Penny half-heartedly promised. “Good night.”
Retreating through the gate, she closed it behind her.
A few paces away, Louise, who had heard only part of the conversation, waited in the darkness.
“Who were those men?” she demanded, falling into step with her chum. “What did you learn?”
Penny repeated everything Jay Highland had told her.
“He seemed rather nice,” she added. “But when you sum it up, he didn’t tell much about the order he is founding here.”
“And the scream?”
“Oh, he explained that. It seems an old woman named Julia lives in the institution. She’s demented.”
“Must be a nice place!” The girls now had reached the car and Louise stood aside for her chum to unlock the door. Quickly they stowed their skis and poles in the rear and then Penny started the motor which popped and sputtered in the frosty air.
“It’s snowing again,” she observed, switching on the windshield wiper. “We didn’t get started a minute too soon.”
Before the girls had traveled a quarter of a mile, huge, wet flakes pelted the glass. Once as the wiper stuck, Penny had to get out and clear the windshield with a handkerchief.
“This is really getting awful!” she exclaimed, as they drove slowly on along the narrow, curving country road. “I can hardly see.”
“Be careful,” Louise warned a moment later. “You’re close to the ditch.”
Penny brought the wheels back onto the main track. But a dozen yards farther on, she saw directly in her path, a bent figure struggling along under the weight of a heavy suitcase. Her head was held low against the wind and snow.
Unaware of the approaching car, the pedestrian was walking almost in the center of the road.
“Look out, Penny!” screamed Louise as she too saw the girl with the heavy burden. “You’ll run her down!”