Part 8 (1/2)
Black velvet curtains were draped in heavy folds over an exit door, and similar hangings covered the windows. To Penny's astonishment, the ceiling, painted black, was studded with silver stars.
However, the object which held her roving gaze was a large crystal ball supported on the claws of a bronze dragon.
”You are a crystal gazer!” Mr. Ayling exclaimed as he too noted the curious globe.
”I have the power to read the future with reasonable accuracy,” replied the monk. He dismissed the subject with a shrug, motioning for his guests to seat themselves before the fire.
”You spoke of searching for a Mrs. Rosenthorne--” he remarked, addressing the investigator.
”Mrs. Hawthorne,” corrected Mr. Ayling.
”To be sure, Mrs. Hawthorne. Apparently you were under the misapprehension that she is in some way connected with this establishment.”
”It was only a hope. My client has a deep interest in cults. I traced Mrs. Hawthorne and her granddaughter to Riverview, and thought possibly they might have been attracted to your place.”
”My little flock is limited to only twelve members at present. All are very humble people who have sworn to live a life of poverty, devoted to charity and faith. We have no Mrs. Hawthorne here.”
”Mightn't she have given another name?” suggested Penny. She stretched her cold fingers to the leaping flames on the hearth.
”I hardly think so.” Father Benedict's lips curled in a superior smile.
”Describe the woman, please.”
Mr. Ayling repeated the description Penny had heard earlier that afternoon.
”We have no such person here,” the monk said. ”I regret I am unable to help you.”
He arose, a plain hint that he considered the brief interview at an end.
Somewhat reluctantly, Penny and her companion also turned their backs upon the crackling fire.
”You have made a comfortable place of this room,” the girl said. Her gaze fastened admiringly upon a porcelain decanter in a wall cabinet. ”And such interesting antiques!”
For the first time since the visitors had arrived, Father Benedict's eyes sparkled with warmth.
”Collecting art treasures is a hobby of mine,” he revealed. Crossing to the cabinet, he removed the decanter.
”This is a piece of Ching-Hoa porcelain and very rare,” he said. ”And here is a Byzantine amulet--priceless. The golden goblets came from a European church destroyed a century ago.”
”You're not afraid to keep such treasures in the monastery?” Mr. Ayling inquired.
”Afraid?” Father Benedict's dark eyes glittered with a strange light. ”I must confess I know not the meaning of the word.”
”You are so far out, I don't suppose you can expect much police protection,” Mr. Ayling added.
”Winkey, my gateman, is quite dependable. While he is on duty, no thief or unwanted stranger will enter our grounds.”
”Winkey is good at keeping folks out,” agreed the investigator dryly. In walking toward the door, he paused to gaze again at the crystal ball.