Rhoda longed to ask Old Julia if she had seen Penny or if the girl had escaped. However, knowing that the old woman might divulge the secret to Father Benedict, she wisely did not bring up the subject.
Julia thrust a hard crust of bread in through the peephole, and then shoved a cup of steaming black coffee into her hand.
“Thanks, Julia,” Rhoda said. “I know you mean well. Working in a place like this isn’t your fault. How did you ever meet Father Benedict anyhow?”
The question was an unfortunate one. Apparently, unpleasant recollections stirred in the woman’s brain, for her eyes became wild. She muttered gibberish Rhoda could not understand. Then she slammed shut the peephole.
A moment later, Rhoda heard her footsteps as she left the closet and retreated down the corridor.
“Poor old Julia,” she sighed. “Wonder if I’ll ever come to the same pass she’s in? I’m sure I will if I have to spend a night in this torture chamber!”
Shivering, Rhoda climbed back into bed. She bit into the bread. Discovering it to be moldy, she hurled it into a far corner of the room.
Rhoda was cold and the hot coffee smelled good. She sipped it cautiously. The brew tasted peculiar, sweetish and unlike any coffee she ever had had before. Nevertheless, it was hot and would warm her chilled bones perhaps.
She drank the entire cupful and leaned back on the pillow.
What was it Julia said, she mused drowsily. Oh, yes, I must stay awake. Must stay awake.