The candles had all been extinguished. However, Father Benedict and Winkey were there, working by the light of a lantern.
“Fish out the jewels and be quick about it!” the monk ordered his servant. “We must be finished before they’re through in the refectory.”
The hunchback scrambled down into the bowl of the fountain, and groped with his hands for the trinkets the cult members had thrown away.
“Did the old lady kick in with the sapphire tonight?” Winkey asked as he worked.
“No!” the monk answered. “She sent word that she was too sick to leave her room! I suspect that girl put her up to it!”
“You goin’ to let her get by with it?”
“I’ll talk with her later tonight,” Father Benedict said. “If she doesn’t come across by tomorrow, we’ll find ways to persuade her.”
“You been saying that ever since she came here! If you ask me, we won’t never have any luck with her until we get rid of the girl! She’s been a wrench in the machinery from the start.”
“I’m afraid you are correct, Winkey,” sighed the monk. “But I do so dislike violence. Well, if it must be, so be it. You assigned her to the room with the canopied bed?”
“I locked her in like you said.” Winkey, having gathered all of the trinkets, scrambled out of the stone basin onto the tiled cloister floor.