Part 34 (2/2)

”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 c.h.i.n.ks 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-fas.h.i.+oned 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 pa.s.sing glance and did not think to look under its curling, frayed edges.

With a s.h.i.+ver 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--”

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