“I have just come from the refectory,” he said. “I counted the soup bowls. There were ten empty and one barely touched. Who was the eleventh person in this household that was served tonight?”
“Don’t ask me,” moaned Old Julia. “I dunno nothing.”
“Sometimes,” said the master coldly, “I am inclined to think you know far more than you let on. Get to the dishes now! Go!”
Evidently Father Benedict struck or kicked the woman, for Old Julia uttered a sharp cry of pain. Her sobs died away as she retreated down the corridor.
After the old woman had gone, Father Benedict unlocked the door of the bedroom and stepped inside. By pressing her ear against the closet wall, Penny was able to hear every word of the ensuing conversation.
“Well, my dear,” said Father Benedict to the imprisoned girl. “Are you ready to come to your senses?”
“If you mean, am I willing to sit quietly by and see you rob my grandmother, the answer is ‘No!’”
“I do not care for your choice of words, my dear,” replied the monk. “You are an impertinent child who must be disciplined.”
“Wait until I get away from here!” the girl challenged. “People will learn exactly what’s going on in this place!”
“Will they indeed? So you propose to make trouble?”