“Don’t you dare take the stone!” the woman screamed. “I’ll have you arrested as a common thief!”
“You’ll never get out of this room,” chuckled the monk. “I intend to lock you in!”
The boast threw Penny into a panic. Not for an instant did she doubt that Father Benedict would carry out his threat. If he locked Mrs. Hawthorne in, she too would be a prisoner!
Penny had no time to plan strategy or reason out the best course. Already, Father Benedict had removed the gem from the hem of the garment.
Before he could examine it, or move toward the door, Penny, with a mighty “whoosh” blew out the candle.
Scrambling from beneath the bed, she darted to the door.
Taken by surprise, Father Benedict was too slow to intercept her. She slammed the door in his face, groping frantically for a key.
Finding none, she knew the monk must have the only one on his person.
“The fat’s in the fire now for sure!” she thought in panic.
Penny raced across the balcony and down the stone steps to the cloister. In this emergency the pillars, though shadowed, offered no protection whatsoever. Nor was the dry fountain bed a safe place in which to hide.