The Cry at Midnight Part 24

"But you will let me go? I won't be gone long."

"Oh, I suppose I'll have to give in," Mrs. Weems sighed. "I usually do.

I'll hurry dinner along so you can get back early."

While the housekeeper fried pork chops, Penny set the table and prepared a salad. When the meal was ready she ate with a haste that shocked Mrs.

Weems.

"I declare, your table manners become worse every day!" she protested.

"Your mind isn't on what you are doing."

"It's on what I'm about to do!" Penny chuckled, getting up from the table. "I don't want any dessert tonight. See you later!"

Donning a heavy coat and slipping a flashlight into one of the deep pockets, she left the house.

The night was dark, for as yet there was no moon. Penny drove rapidly through Riverview and along the lonely road which led to the monastery.

Despite the speed of her car, she soon noted that another automobile was overtaking her. The girl pressed her foot a little more firmly on the gasoline pedal, but still the other car gained.

She was driving forty-five miles an hour when the big black car pa.s.sed her traveling at least sixty. On the narrow road, Penny was crowded dangerously close to the ditch.

"The nerve of some people!" she muttered in disgust. "No wonder there are so many highway accidents!"

Penny caught only a fleeting glimpse of the black car's driver, a man hunched low over the steering wheel.

"Why, that looked like Winkey!" she thought. "And another man was with him in the front seat! I wonder if it was Father Benedict?"

Penny speeded up but found it impossible to keep the car in view. When she skidded at a curve, she wisely slowed down and abandoned the chase.

Approaching the monastery ten minutes later, the girl decided to park a short distance from the entrance gate. She left the car at the roadside beyond view of the gatehouse, and tramped on through the slush and snow.

Coming within sight of the ancient building, she paused.

The big gate stood ajar, and on the driveway stood the black automobile which had pa.s.sed her car down the road.

"So it was Winkey!" she thought.

At the gateway Penny gazed carefully about the grounds. The hunchback was nowhere to be seen and the gatehouse remained deserted.

"So far, so good!" she encouraged herself. "Now if only Father Benedict doesn't refuse to let me into the house!"

Thinking over what she would say to the monk, Penny walked slowly up the driveway. Nearly all of the snow had melted, leaving large puddles to be avoided.

However, near where the black car had been parked, a section of yard was shadowed from the sun during the day. Here the damp snow remained in deep banks.

As Penny pa.s.sed the car, she noticed a double set of men's footprints leading from the parked automobile toward the rear of the premises.

Also, she observed long marks which indicated the two men had dragged a heavy object over the snow.

"I suppose it was a sack of potatoes or supplies for the monastery," she mused. "It must be a job keeping this place in operation. Riverview stores never would make deliveries so far out."

Windows of the monastery were dark, though far inside the building dim lights could be seen. With a feeling akin to dread Penny went to the door and rapped with the bra.s.s knocker.

Now that she actually was embarked upon adventure, she rather regretted she had promised Mr. DeWitt a feature story. By night the monastery seemed more austere and unfriendly.

Minutes elapsed and no one came to answer the door. Impatiently, Penny clanged the knocker several times in rapid succession. Only then did she hear approaching footsteps.

At last the big door swung outward to reveal Father Benedict. His eyes narrowed with displeasure as he saw her.

"Well?" he inquired. Penny observed that he was a little breathless from having hastened.

"I don't suppose you expected to see me here again so soon!" she began with forced gaiety. "Do you mind if I witness the cult ceremony tonight?"

"We discussed that this afternoon. I am very sorry--" Father Benedict began to close the door.

"I want to write a little story about it for the newspaper," Penny went on, talking fast. "If you'll only--"

The door closed in her face. Distinctly she heard a key grate in the lock.

"Well, how do you like that?" Penny muttered angrily. "Who does he think he is, anyhow?"

She started away, only to pause and gaze thoughtfully back at the darkened windows. To return to the newspaper office without a story would be humiliating. A good reporter never failed.

"There must be some way to see that ceremony!" she reasoned. "Perhaps I can slip in through a rear door."

Penny circled the building, taking care to avoid snow patches where revealing footprints would be left behind. She crossed through the old church-yard with its toppled, weather-stained stones, pa.s.sing close along the church wall.

Coming to a small arching door, she tried the k.n.o.b.

"Locked!" she muttered in disgust. "One would think this place were a jail!"

Half way around the building Penny found another door which evidently opened into the kitchen. It too was locked.

"I'm out of luck!" she decided, losing heart.

As she turned away intending to return to her car, she noticed a window at shoulder level, opening from a kitchen wall. A ventilator screen had been inserted to permit free circulation of outside air.

Penny carefully studied the window. A crack between the screen and window frame encouraged her to hope that the mesh might be removed.

Obviously, the plan had disadvantages. In removing the screen, she might make too much noise and be detected.

Furthermore, a wide patch of snow separated her from the window. She could not reach the wall without leaving a trail of telltale footprints.

Then an idea flashed into Penny's mind. How easy it would be to make deceptive prints in the snow merely by walking _backwards_!

"If Father Benedict discovers my shoetracks, he'll think someone from inside the building crawled out the window!" she chuckled. "At least I hope he will!"

Now completely dedicated to the adventure, the girl carefully backed toward the window. She took each step slowly to make a distinct print.