The next moment she was sure she heard whispering. That certainly was Rosa, but why should she be hiding?
“Rosa!” again called Nancy, this time feeling very much like turning back to Dell and leaving Rosa to report for herself.
Indignant and offended, Nancy was almost about to follow out that thought when a sudden sharp cry—it was from Rosa—certainly—a cry of pain came from a spot close by.
“Oh, Orilla! quick!” Nancy heard. “My foot is caught and—”
“Rosa, where are you?” sharply demanded Nancy. “I’m here! I can help you!”
“She’s all right—” came a voice not Rosa’s. Then the flash of a small light betrayed the spot where Rosa had fallen.
“It’s my foot, it got caught in briars, and oh, mercy!” Rosa exclaimed, “I’m afraid I’ve sprained my ankle!”
By this time Nancy could see Rosa’s companion. So that was Orilla! A tall girl with fiery red hair that even in the glimmering light of the hand flash which she, Orilla, was holding, looked too red to be pretty. It was as if the head that held it all was in a real blaze, rather than being covered with hair.
“Oh, you’re all right, Rose. Get up,” the girl ordered so unkindly that Nancy bent over and put her arm about the struggling figure.
“Did you ever see anything—so—so—beastly!” poor Rose was muttering. “Just to jump into a hole and get strangled with briars—”