Part 11 (1/2)
”Will you begin, Elizabeth? I declare to you my whole cage of teeth is loose----”
”Help!” called Miss Gabriel. Her voice, despite herself, quavered a little at first. ”Help! Help!”
”Help--help--help!” chirupped Mrs. Pope, much as an extremely nervous person seeks to attract the attention of a waiter.
”Louder ... much louder. He-lp!”
”Help--help--he-lp! Oh, Elizabeth, and in a churchyard, too!”
”Louder still.... He-el-lp!”
”Help!... It's like waking the dead....”
”He-el-lp!”
”Hi, there! Who is it, and whatever on earth's the matter?” answered a voice from somewhere on their right.
”Oh, listen, Elizabeth! Heaven be praised!...”
”Who is it?” sounded the voice again, and a dot of light shone through the wall of fog.
”Answer him, Elizabeth!”
”Him? It isn't a man's voice, but a woman's ... unless the fog.... Hi, there! Help! Here are two ladies.... Why, it's--it's Mrs. Treacher!”
For the fog had parted suddenly, and through it, as through a breach in a wall, stepped Mrs. Treacher with a lantern, which she held up close to their faces.
”Eh? Mrs. Pope and Miss Gabriel? Well, I declare!”
”Bless you, Mrs. Treacher! But, however came you here?”
”Why not?” asked Mrs. Treacher, after a pause.
”Here, in the churchyard!... You don't tell me you've lost your way, too?”
”No, I don't,” answered Mrs. Treacher, shortly, lifting her lantern.
”Churchyard? What churchyard?”
”We thought.... We were under the impression....” Miss Gabriel's voice rocked a little before she recovered her self-command. ”Would you mind telling us where we are, and what railings are these?”
”You're on Garrison Hill,” said Mrs. Treacher, who disliked Miss Gabriel. ”And you have hold of the rails round the old powder magazine.
But what you're tryin' to do with 'em, and at this hour of night, I'll leave you to explain.”
But here, for the first time since their troubles began, Mrs. Pope came to her companion's help. She did so by leaning back limply against the railings and declaring that she, for her part, was going to faint.
Mrs. Treacher caught her as she dropped, and with Miss Gabriel's help supported her up the slope to the Barracks, less than fifty yards above.
”The Barracks?” exclaimed Miss Gabriel, halting as Mrs. Treacher's lantern revealed to her through the fast-thinning fog a portion of the whitewashed facade. ”Oh, but I couldn't--on any account whatever!”