Black velvet curtains were draped in heavy folds over an exit door, and similar hangings covered the windows. To Penny's astonishment, the ceiling, painted black, was studded with silver stars.

However, the object which held her roving gaze was a large crystal ball supported on the claws of a bronze dragon.

"You are a crystal gazer!" Mr. Ayling exclaimed as he too noted the curious globe.

"I have the power to read the future with reasonable accuracy," replied the monk. He dismissed the subject with a shrug, motioning for his guests to seat themselves before the fire.

"You spoke of searching for a Mrs. Rosenthorne--" he remarked, addressing the investigator.

"Mrs. Hawthorne," corrected Mr. Ayling.

"To be sure, Mrs. Hawthorne. Apparently you were under the misapprehension that she is in some way connected with this establishment."

"It was only a hope. My client has a deep interest in cults. I traced Mrs. Hawthorne and her granddaughter to Riverview, and thought possibly they might have been attracted to your place."

"My little flock is limited to only twelve members at present. All are very humble people who have sworn to live a life of poverty, devoted to charity and faith. We have no Mrs. Hawthorne here."

"Mightn't she have given another name?" suggested Penny. She stretched her cold fingers to the leaping flames on the hearth.

"I hardly think so." Father Benedict's lips curled in a superior smile.

"Describe the woman, please."

Mr. Ayling repeated the description Penny had heard earlier that afternoon.

"We have no such person here," the monk said. "I regret I am unable to help you."

He arose, a plain hint that he considered the brief interview at an end.

Somewhat reluctantly, Penny and her companion also turned their backs upon the crackling fire.

"You have made a comfortable place of this room," the girl said. Her gaze fastened admiringly upon a porcelain decanter in a wall cabinet. "And such interesting antiques!"

For the first time since the visitors had arrived, Father Benedict's eyes sparkled with warmth.

"Collecting art treasures is a hobby of mine," he revealed. Crossing to the cabinet, he removed the decanter.

"This is a piece of Ching-Hoa porcelain and very rare," he said. "And here is a Byzantine amulet--priceless. The golden goblets came from a European church destroyed a century ago."

"You're not afraid to keep such treasures in the monastery?" Mr. Ayling inquired.

"Afraid?" Father Benedict's dark eyes glittered with a strange light. "I must confess I know not the meaning of the word."

"You are so far out, I don't suppose you can expect much police protection," Mr. Ayling added.

"Winkey, my gateman, is quite dependable. While he is on duty, no thief or unwanted stranger will enter our grounds."

"Winkey is good at keeping folks out," agreed the investigator dryly. In walking toward the door, he paused to gaze again at the crystal ball.

"My gla.s.s interests you?" inquired the monk.

"I've seen those things before, but never took stock in them," rejoined Mr. Ayling. "One can't actually conjure up pictures by gazing into that globe?"

"Would you care to see for yourself?"

"Well, it's a little out of my line," Mr. Ayling laughed.

"I'd like to try it!" cried Penny. "May I?"

"Certainly. The principle is very simple. One merely gazes deeply into the gla.s.s until the optic nerve of the eye becomes fatigued. As it ceases to transmit impression from without, one sees events of the future."

"I've heard it explained a little differently," said Mr. Ayling. "As the optic nerve becomes paralyzed, it responds to the reflex action proceeding from the brain of the crystal gazer. One sees what one wishes to see."

"I do not agree!" Father Benedict's voice was sharp. "The ball accurately foretells the future. Shall we test and prove its powers?"

"Let me try it!" pleaded Penny again.

Smiling a bit grimly, the monk extinguished an overhead light and touched a match to the wick of two tall white candles.

Placing the crystal ball in front of a black screen, he set the burning tapers at either side. Penny suddenly began to lose zest for the adventure.

But before she could think of a graceful way to announce that she had changed her mind, the monk took her firmly by the arm.

"Place your hands on either side of the crystal ball," he directed. "Gaze deep into the gla.s.s. Deep--deep. And now my little one, what do you see?"

CHAPTER 6 _CREAKING WOOD_

As Penny peered down into the highly polished surface of the crystal clear gla.s.s, a mult.i.tude of dancing points of light drew and held her attention.

"Gaze deep--deeper," intoned the monk. "Do you not see a picture forming?"

"The gla.s.s has become cloudy."

"Ah, yes. In a moment it will clear. Now what do you see?"

"Nothing. Nothing at all."

Father Benedict tapped the toe of his slipper impatiently. "You are resisting the gla.s.s," he muttered. "You do not believe."

Penny continued to stare fixedly into the crystal ball. "It's no use,"

she said finally, pulling her eyes away. "Guess I haven't enough of the witch in me!"

She stepped back from the dragon standard on which the globe stood, and for a minute was stone blind.

"I can't see a thing!" she gasped in alarm.