Suddenly Rhoda stiffened and clutched the sheet convulsively. Was it imagination or had she heard a low moan?
The sound had seemed to come from beneath the bed. Half tempted to look beneath the draperies, she resisted the impulse.
I did hear something, she thought. It sounded as if someone were in pain. And the noise came from the cellar below!
Now to torment the girl came reflections of unexplained happenings since her arrival at the monastery. On several nights she had heard disturbances from the cellar region. Winkey, she knew, made frequent trips to the crypt upon one pretext or another.
Suddenly Rhoda was startled by a light and repeated tapping on the wall near the closet peephole.
Certain that it was Penny who had returned, she leaped out of bed and bounded across the room.
The panel of wood moved back and two eyes peered in at her.
“Is that you, Penny?” Rhoda whispered eagerly.
“Julia!” was the answer.
“Oh,” Rhoda murmured in bitter disappointment. “I hoped—”