Though Penny knew it was highly dangerous to venture below, she did not hesitate. A step at a time, and pausing frequently to listen, she stole down toward the inky blackness of the crypt.
The stone walls on either side of the narrow, curving stairway were cold and clammy to the touch. Water dripped from overhead.
Ahead, in a sunken recess amid the stones, the girl suddenly saw a shadowy figure. Startled, she jerked to a standstill. Then, observing that the object was not a human being but a rusty coat of armor, she breathed easier and went on.
A minute later, as she crept around a turn of the stairway, terror gripped her at first glimpse of the dimly lighted burial crypt.
In grim, orderly rows were the elaborately carved stone sarcophaguses of former residents of the monastery.
Beyond the tombs, backed against a wall, sat Rhoda. Sleepy-eyed, her hair in disarray, she faced Father Benedict who held a lighted lantern close to her face.
Jay Highland had doffed his long robes and stood revealed in ordinary gray business suit. In his coat pocket, within easy reach of his right hand, was a revolver.
“Wake up!” he said, giving Rhoda a hard shake. “You’re only pretending now! The drug in the coffee was not strong enough to keep you asleep. Wake up!”
Rhoda stared at him and her eyes widened in horror.
“You fiend!” she accused him. “Don’t you dare touch me! I’ll scream!”