“Under the bed,” urged Mrs. Hawthorne.
Penny wriggled beneath it. Barely had she secreted herself, than Father Benedict stamped into the bedroom.
CHAPTER
20
TRICKERY
Lighting his way with a tall, flickering candle, Father Benedict walked directly to the bed where Mrs. Hawthorne lay.
“How are you feeling?” he inquired with a show of sympathy.
“Dreadful,” the woman murmured. “I must have a doctor.”
“Do you really believe that a doctor can help you, my good woman?”
The question startled Mrs. Hawthorne. She half-raised herself from the pillow to stare at the monk.
“Why, what do you mean?” she asked. “Surely a doctor can give me medicine to help these wretched pains. It is only a stomach disorder.”
“My dear Mrs. Hawthorne, surely you must realize that your difficulty is not one that a man of medicine can cure.”