" He began
sneaking off toward the extreme west end of the graveyard, bent on
finding the road to town. "Holy smoke!" stopping short. "Another bunch
of them coming! I'm surrounded!" He dropped down behind a weed-covered
mound and glared straight ahead. Almost directly in his path a lantern
wobbled and reeled slowly, finally bringing its bearer to the fence
between the burying-ground and the churchyard. A man carried the light
and half carried the form of a woman besides.
"Brace up, Nell dear," Mr. Hooker heard the newcomer say as tenderly
as his exertions would allow. "The worst is over. Here's the church.
Good Heavens, just think of being lost in a graveyard!"
"And climbing four fences and a tree," moaned Eleanor Thursdale. They
had come up through the graveyard by mistake.
"It wasn't a tree; it was a fence post. Great Scot! There's no light
in the church. What's up? Wait here, dear, and I'll investigate."
"Alone? Never!" she cried. They climbed their fifth fence,
notwithstanding the fact that a gate was near at hand.
"This is an awful pickle I've got you into. You ought to hate me--" he
was groaning, but she checked him nobly.
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