“Jack!” exclaimed Cora.
“Thank fortune!” came the fervent words from Mrs. Robinson.
Jack had Cora in his arms before he could say a word, Walter and Ed divided themselves among the frightened group as best they could. Belle really fell into some one’s arms, and Bess had difficulty in clinging to her trembling, little mother.
“Another moment in this dreadful place, and I should have died!” wailed Mrs. Robinson.
“And to think that it was all my fault, that you came out just to let me—see the—ocean,” cried the visitor, Miss Steel of Chicago. “I shouldn’t have consented——”
“Nonsense!” interrupted Bess. “You had nothing to do with the accident. It was all the fault of that—disgraceful—man. He is no more a chauffeur—than——”
“I knew he would do something dreadful!” put in Belle, who was sobbing hysterically, while Walter tried to comfort her.
For some moments the scene was one of confusion, punctuated with such remarks as would spring from the frightened lips unbidden by brain or effort. Then the storm seemed to suddenly clear away, and with the passing of the rain went the black blankets that had hidden the lights from the sky.
It seemed almost uncanny that the stars and moon should flash so suddenly over the heads of the party in the cemetery, and reveal to them the marble shafts, and granite headstones glaring in ghostly whiteness.
“Let’s get out of here,” spoke Jack, giving his terrified sister a reassuring hug. “Cora, you are drenched through!” he exclaimed.