Her strength gave way, her hands sank in the sand, and her hair fell over her face, as she broke into a storm of sobs and tears.
"I say, Jamaica, come out," whispered Mrs. Rocliffe. "We'll talk over wot's to be done."
Giles Cheel and Sally Rocliffe crept out of the cave backwards. They did so, facing Mehetabel, with mistrust. Each believed that she was mad.
When the two were outside, then Jonas's sister said to her companion "I'll tell you what, Jamaica, I won't have nuthin' more to do with this. There's somethin' queer; and whether Jonas has been doin' what he ort not, or whether Matabel be gone rampagin' mad, that's not for me to say. Let Jonas manage his own affairs, and don't let us meddle no more."
"I am sure it's 'as nuthin' to me," said Cheel. "But this is a fine thing. At the christenin' of that there baby he had words to say about me and my Betsy, as if we was a disgrace to the Punch-Bowl, becos we didn't always agree. But my Betsy and me never came to such a pass as this. I'm willin'. Let's go back and have our suppers, and let her be where she is."
"You need not tell Jonas that we have found her."
"No; not if you wishes."
"Let the matter alone altogether; I reckon she's in a dangerous mood, and so is Jonas. Something may come of it, and I'd as lief be out of it altogether."
"That's my doctrine, too," said Giles.
Then he put his head in at the cave door, and said "Good-night, missus!"