St. Peter's Finger

to make out whether anybody had an eye on me.”

“But was not that a frightening idea?”

“No. I thought of Ulrica. She’d got to have an accident first, you see.”

“I admire your ghoulish intelligence, but listen to me: I want you not to take it upon yourself to do any more of this snooping. It isn’t really very safe.”

“No, it isn’t really. I got on to the roof of the guesthouse, and I could have got into the bathroom, but didn’t dare. And then I couldn’t get down.”

“Lost your nerve, I suppose, in the dark?”

“Yes, I did. I believe anybody would have. And I thought I saw somebody lurking.”

“Bessie’s young man, I daresay.”

“The orphans don’t have young men! It isn’t allowed.”

“Sometimes they have them,” said Mrs. Bradley, with a pleasant recollection of the carton of cream and the rose. “Promise me, please, that you won’t do any more snooping by yourself.”

“Very well, then. I’m glad you’ve made me, because now I can’t break the promise, and really I didn’t want to do any more hunting for clues. If I hadn’t fallen off the roof of the first private house, though, and been helped by a gentleman who lives there, I think I should have found out quite a lot. But I came over sick again, and lost my hold, and crashed.”

“Oh, yes. The private houses,” said Mrs. Bradley. She did not want to bring them any further into the affairs of the convent if she could help it, but she reflected that they might have information on various points which the convent did not possess. There were only two of them, and in time, she supposed, the convent would absorb them into its guest-house just as it had absorbed the other three which the friendly speculative builder had put up.

“So the gentleman helped you up?”

“Well, really, you know, I’d hurt myself. He picked me up, and then I got a sort of a clue, after all.”

“No!”

“Oh, yes. He said: ‘And how many more of you wretched kids am I going to spot on the roof?’

“I said: ‘I’m terribly sorry. I slipped, and then I rolled. But I didn’t know that anybody else had ever been on the roof. ’ I didn’t like to ask him when it was, but it sounds like Ursula, doesn’t it? You can get into that bathroom from the roof, because that’s the way the girl who was expelled from school got in, only she was caught by Mother Saint Jude, and Mother Saint Jude was terribly upset at having to take her over to Mother Saint Francis, but she felt she had to, because the rule is so strict.”

“You said that you received an anonymous letter. Have you no idea at all who might have sent it?”

“You know how the nuns write? Well, it was just like that. But all the girls can do it. It’s very easy.”

“What about your clothes?”

“A fearful mess. I daren’t think what Sister Genevieve’s going to say. Do you think that she’ll report me?”

“I really have no idea. Did your stockings get torn?”

“Oh, yes. I took the skin off all down the side of my leg, and, of course, the stocking tore away too. And the roof is so terribly dirty. I got simply smothered in soot. Luckily I had my black overall on, and not my grey school tunic!”

“By the way, how did you manage to get on to the roof?”

“Oh, the man in the end house had a ladder already up. He was doing some painting of the guttering. It was just light enough for me to carry, so, as soon as it was dark, I dragged it along and got up it. But I hadn’t got to the guest-house after all, but only to the second of the private houses. Oh, dear! I have got bruises!”

“But, look here,” said Mrs. Bradley, speaking sternly, “there’s more in this than you’ve told me. Let’s go over it again.”

“No, please, I’d rather not. I shall only get into trouble as it is! I’ve told you all I can. I can’t get other people into a mess.”

“Do you mean Nancy Ryan?”

“Well, not only Nancy.”

“Mary,” said Mrs. Bradley, “don’t be silly. What did you do on Friday between a quarter past three and bed- time?”

“I felt ill, and went up to bed.”

“You were not in bed when Cynthia Parks went to look.”

“I expect I was being sick again just then.”

“Did you go into Preparation on Friday evening?”

“No. I went back to bed. I was sick twice in the night, you know.”

“Why?”

“Well—”

“Why?”

“I ate soap.”