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.”