The Penny Parker Megapack: 15 Complete Novels

by Mildred Benson

  Coming within sight of the ancient building, she paused.

  The big gate stood ajar, and on the driveway stood the black automobile which had passed 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 passed 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 brass 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, passing close along the church wall.

  Coming to a small arching door, she tried the knob.

  “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.

  Reaching the window, she tried the ventilator screen. To her delight, it folded like an accordian when she pushed one side against the edge of the window. Making no sound, she removed it.

  Listening a moment to make certain no one was close by, Penny raised the window higher. Then on strong arms she swung herself up and over the ledge.

  The girl found herself in a large kitchen lighted only by a smoldering log in a great cavern of a fireplace.

  Rows of copper pans hung on the smoke-stained walls. In a huge black kettle, watery soup simmered over the fire.

  Penny turned to close the window and stepped squarely on the tail of a drowsing cat.

  “Ye-eow!” screeched the frightened animal.

  Penny huddled against the wall, listening. Her heart sank as she heard heavy footsteps in the passageway. The howling cat had brought someone to investigate!

  Frantically, the girl glanced about the room. Huge cupboards which rose from the floor to the ceiling offered the only possible hiding place in the otherwise barren kitchen.

  Pulling open one of the doors, she saw an interior cluttered with greasy pans and dishes. With desperate haste, she tried the adjoining door. This cupboard was empty except for a few dusty newspapers.

  Penny stepped inside, softly closing the door. Only then, as she heard someone enter the kitchen, did she realize that in her haste to hide, she had forgotten to close the window.

  CHAPTER 16

  THE KITCHEN CUPBOARD

  Into the kitchen lumbered Old Julia. She picked up the whimpering cat and began to croon endearments.

  Penny breathed easier. The next instant she became tense again as she heard another person enter the room.

  “What was that noise, Julia?” a man demanded harshly.

  Penny recognized Father Benedict’s voice.

  “Only the cat, Father.”

  “Why is the room so cold? Oh, I see! Against my orders you opened the window again!”

  “No, I didn’t!” Old Julia defended herself. “I hain’t been near a door or window since you told me not to talk to nobody nor let ’em in. I don’t talk to nobody—only Patsy, the cat. Nice Patsy!”

  “You’re a stupid old woman! What made the cat howl?”

  “I dunno. She must’ve seen a mouse.”

  “Cats don’t howl unless they are hurt! You opened the window!”

  “No! No! I didn’t!” the old woman cried. “Don’t strike me! I’m telling you the truth.”

  Penny heard the monk walk to the window. Her heart skipped a beat when he said: “Perhaps you are, Julia! I can see footprints in the snow! Someone crawled out through this window! You helped that girl get away!”

  “I didn’t! I didn’t!” whimpered Julia. “I dunno how the window got open.”

  The monk seemed to be talking to himself as he went on: “I knew that girl would make trouble the minute I set eyes on her! If it hadn’t been for her interference, everything would have gone just as planned! Now she’ll have to pay for her folly!”

  For a moment Penny thought Father Benedict was speaking of her. Then it came to her that he must be referring to the dark-haired girl she had seen briefly on the day of her first visit to the monastery.

  “This isn’t the only time she’s slipped out of here!” the monk went on angrily. “But it will be the last!”

  Father Benedict rang a bell. While waiting for it to be answered, he slammed down the kitchen window.

  Soon Winkey, the hunchback, appeared. “You called me, boss?” he inquired.

  “I did,” sai
d the monk. “And kindly remember not to call me ‘boss.’ Father Benedict is a more respectful term.”

  “That’s a laugh,” rejoined Winkey rudely. “What did you call me for?”

  “Look out the window and see for yourself.”

  “Footprints!”

  “Going away from the monastery,” Father Benedict added. “That girl has run off again! This time when she gets back, see that she is punished.”

  The command seemed to startle the gateman for he asked dubiously: “You don’t mean—”

  “I do.” The monk’s words dropped like chips of steel. “The usual punishment.”

  “But ain’t it a little harsh for a girl? She’s only a kid—”

  “Only a kid!” Father Benedict’s voice rose in mockery. “From the hour we came here she has been a thorn in my side. If it hadn’t been for her interference, we would have been away from here yesterday!”

  “Okay, if those are your orders. Are you sure the girl has skipped?”

  “Certainly I am. I found the window open, and there are the footprints in the snow!”

  “Maybe she won’t be back.”

  “She will,” Father Benedict said grimly. “You see, so long as we have her—”

  He broke off to listen intently. From the direction of the cloister a silver bell had chimed.

  “The signal for the processional!” Father Benedict exclaimed, interrupting himself. “I must go!”

  In the doorway he apparently paused, for Penny heard him say to Julia:

  “Start dishing up the soup ready to serve as soon as the ceremony is over! A bowl and four crackers to each person!”

  “Is that all they’re getting to eat?” Winkey inquired. “We’re in for a lot of squawks!”

  “You forget that the members of our sect have taken a vow of poverty and abstinence,” retorted the monk with heavy sarcasm. “If there are any complaints, I know how to handle them.”

  “You sure do,” agreed Winkey, his laughter crackling. “I’ll hand you the gold plated medal for that!”

  Voices of the two men died away, informing Penny that they had gone. As she huddled in the cramped quarters, she could hear Julia moving about the kitchen. The woman sighed heavily and once muttered:“Woe is me! Wisht I was dead, I do!”

  Minutes elapsed and the girl became increasingly uncomfortable and impatient. Old Julia showed no inclination to leave the kitchen.

  “I’ve got to get out of here or I’ll miss the entire ceremony!” Penny told herself. “Well, here goes! If Julia screams, I’m a cooked goose!”

  Opening the cupboard door a tiny crack, she peered out.

  Old Julia had lighted candles. In their flickering light she could be seen with her back to Penny, stirring the soup. On the table beside her were ten wooden bowls.

  “It’s now or never!” the girl thought. “Julia may give me away, but I’ll have to chance it!”

  Opening the door wider, she moved noiselessly out and glided across the floor. A board creaked. But as Julia turned her head, Penny reached out and covered her mouth with her hand.

  Seeing her, the old woman’s eyes dilated with fear, but she could not speak.

  “Don’t try to scream! Don’t say a word!” Penny warned. “I won’t hurt you! I’m here to help you.”

  The old woman tried to break from the girl’s grasp. Penny kept talking to her in a soothing tone until gradually she relaxed.

  “Will you keep quiet if I release you?” she finally demanded.

  The old woman’s head bobbed up and down.

  Penny removed her hand, expecting the worst. But Julia did not scream. Instead, she stared fixedly at the girl.

  “Julia, I must see the ceremony, and Father Benedict isn’t to know I am here,” Penny whispered. “Will you keep my secret?”

  Again Julia’s head inclined, but the look of terror remained in her eyes.

  “Go!” she whispered, pointing to the window. “Leave while there is time!”

  “Not until I’ve seen the ceremony. Julia, I need a robe. Where can I find one?”

  So stupidly did Julia stare at her that Penny was certain the woman did not understand. However, after a moment she shuffled to one of the storage cupboards where linen was kept. Returning with a white cotton robe, she placed it in the girl’s hands.

  Penny put the garment on over her coat, pulling the hood well down over her blond curls.

  Then, with another whispered warning to Julia not to reveal her presence, she left the kitchen. The disguise gave her renewed confidence, for in the shadowy halls she felt that only at close range would anyone recognize her.

  Three stone steps led up to the cloister. Approaching with great caution, Penny observed that it too had been lighted with candles.

  In the center of the cloister near the old fountain, Father Benedict’s crystal globe had been set up. On either side stood stately rows of tall candles.

  Impressive as was the sight, Penny had no time to admire it, for a door had opened. Winkey came in, dragging a girl by the wrist.

  With a shock Penny recognized her as the same girl she had seen while visiting the monastery with Mr. Ayling.

  “And she’s the same one Louise and I picked up in our car!” she thought.

  The girl struggled to free herself from the hunchback’s firm grasp.

  “Let me go!” she cried, kicking at him. “Let me go!”

  “Oh, no, you don’t!” he taunted her. “This time you’ll have to pay for sneaking out of the house and coming back!”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about!” the girl retorted. “I’ve not been out of this house tonight! If I could get away, I’d bring the police and have you arrested! You can’t mistreat me! Let go my wrist!”

  Before Winkey could answer, another door opened to admit Father Benedict. Walking straight toward the hunchback he exclaimed harshly:

  “Fool! Don’t bring her in here! The ceremony is starting! Lock her up and be quick about it!”

  CHAPTER 17

  THE CULT CEREMONY

  As Penny watched from behind a pillar in the cloister, Winkey pulled the struggling girl through a doorway and out of sight.

  Father Benedict then adjusted his long robe and rang a silver bell. With stately tread he retired to a position behind the crystal globe.

  An instant later from the far side of the cloister, a door was flung open. A procession of ten persons in white robes moved slowly into the shadowy room.

  As far as Penny could tell, all who participated were women, many of advanced age. Leaders of the strange procession carried banners embroidered in silver and gold symbols.

  The white robed figures moved slowly along the passageway, and Penny saw that they would pass the pillar where she stood.

  Fearing detection, she shifted position slightly to avoid being seen.

  But as the mumbling, chanting group passed her, she was overcome with a sudden impulse to join the procession.

  “If I can get up close, I’ll be able to hear what is said!” she thought. “Maybe I’ll learn the secret of Father Benedict’s strange power over these people!”

  As the procession passed the pillar, Penny attached herself to the rear. With bowed head, she followed the others who formed a semicircle about the fountain.

  The monk began a chant in Latin which Penny could not understand. However, his gestures were eloquent, and despite herself, she was impressed.

  Presently he spoke in English, quoting the White Lady of Sir Walter Scott’s “The Monastery.”

  “Mortal warp and mortal woof

  Cannot brook this charmed roof;

  All that mortal art hath wrought

  In our cell returns to naught.

  The molten gold returns to clay,

  The polish’d diamond melts away;

  All is alter’d, all is flown,

  Naught stands fast but truth alone.

  Not for that thy quest give o’er;

  Courage! prove thy chance once more
.”

  Eloquently, the monk then praised the frugal life, assuring his listeners that those who gave of their treasure to the cult society would receive untold spiritual values.

  “As you file past the fountain cast your jewels into the basin,” he bade the group. “You will be rewarded three-fold.”

  Slowly the robed women circled the fountain. The one leading the procession dropped a bracelet. The woman following fumbled beneath her robe and reluctantly gave a cameo broach.

  “It was the last gift of my dear departed husband,” she whispered tearfully. “I do so dislike to part with it—”

  “You shall have your reward,” the monk assured her. “Later, in the crystal globe, you will see the face of your husband!”

  “So that’s how he rules them!” thought Penny. “He plays upon their emotions and then pretends to conjure up visions of departed relatives!”

  Another woman stripped a diamond ring from her finger, and cast it into the bowl of the fountain. The one who followed her, stood empty handed.

  “Where is your contribution?” demanded the monk.

  “I have none, O Master! At the last ceremony, I gave all!”

  “Those who have no gift for the celestial spirits receive no rewards,” Father Benedict said sharply.

  “Please—”

  “Pass on!” ordered the monk.

  Realization now came to Penny that in another moment she too would be expected to drop her contribution into the fountain. What could she give?

  On her third finger the girl wore a silver colored ring with a red glass stone. She had won it several days before at a church party fish pond, and despite the fact that it obviously had been bought in a dime store, had kept it.

  As Penny’s turn came she removed the cheap ring and let it fall into the basin of the fountain. Keeping the hood well over her face, she mumbled in a disguised voice: “I give my precious ruby ring!”

  “Blessings upon you, my good woman!” said the monk approvingly. “The celestial spirits will remember your generosity.”

  Father Benedict now led the procession to the refectory where supper was to be served.

  The room was drafty and barren except for one long table and benches. Old Julia had set out the wooden bowls of soup, and crackers, thoughtfully remembering to set an extra one for Penny. No other food was in evidence.