“The gem was left to me in trust for my granddaughter.”
“You told me yourself you desire that it never should fall into her hands.”
“Only because I fear evil will befall her. I had planned to sell the gem and place the money in her name.”
Father Benedict beat an impatient tattoo with his foot. “The curse would remain,” he insisted. “Only by giving the gem to a worthy charity can evil be erased. For your own sake and that of your granddaughter, I beg of you, give us the sapphire.”
“A few days ago, I might have considered it,” said Mrs. Hawthorne peevishly. “Now I don’t even like this place. It is too much on the order of a prison. The food is wretched! Tomorrow if I am stronger, I shall take my granddaughter and leave.”
“Indeed?” Father Benedict sneered. “For you there will be no tomorrow. I have seen the face of a corpse in my glass!”
Penny knew that the words shocked Mrs. Hawthorne, for she heard her draw in her breath sharply. But the woman retorted with spirit:
“You cannot frighten me with your predictions! Rhoda insisted from the first that you are an imposter! She is right! You’ll get no gem from me!”
“No?” Father Benedict’s voice became mocking. “We shall see!”
Placing the candle on the floor close to the bed, he crossed the room to the old fashioned dresser. One by one, he began to paw through the drawers.