They stood about the table for a moment. Then Miss Reed crossed over to one of the windows and opened it. She stood there listening. Megan heard the rain falling more heavily now, spattering off the eaves, on to the sill, on to the tiles of the courtyard, a deliciously relaxing sound, a sound of abandonment, of dissolution. They all listened. Then a sudden crackle of rifle-shots burst through, stamped against the monotones of night, silence, and rain like rockets on a dark sky. Megan was vividly conscious once more of the terrors of the outside, terrors beyond this veil of rain streaming over them like a protective insulation. The thought of safety became suddenly so sweet that her mind clung to it for a moment with a piercing delight. Then she thought of how a few hours before she had lain in her bed and envied the workers at the orphanage, and a forced, heavily articulated courage crept over her. She heard without surprise Miss Reed's voice: "Perhaps it might be better to make a run for it. If you can wait a moment I'll get the children ready." Miss Reed hurried into the next room followed by Miss Minton. The Doctor sat down again and closed his eyes. Megan sat down opposite him. He said nothing, and Megan could see in his face no sign of anger or triumph. She wondered if he had ever been aware of the curious adoration, forced into an unwilling antagonism, which Miss Reed so clearly felt for him. Poor Miss Reed! She did not believe he did. His skull-like face with closed, hollowed eyes was empty now of all feeling, only his lips moved slightly as if he were praying. Very shortly the two women returned with five small children wrapped in coats and shawls, huddling together and staring at the light like little blinded animals. One little girl was crying, but Miss Minton very expertly wound her woolen scarf across her mouth so that her sobs were muffled and she might use her scarf, if she wished, for a handkerchief. Miss Reed and Miss Minton carried two old suitcases and wore very worn coats of leopard cat and no hats. Miss Reed's small face framed with short hair, in spite of its many lines, looked strangely childish above the frayed fur collar, especially as Megan saw on it the adolescent look of adoration which had become now faintly idiotic. She walked to Doctor Strike and laid her hand on his arm. "We are in your hands now, Doctor," she said. But the Doctor made no reply. He took her bag abruptly from her, snatched Miss Minton's and stalked out of the parlor. Miss Minton and Miss Reed gathered a child with each hand and followed. Megan came last with the smallest, she who had been crying. [Illustration: Chapter X headpiece] CHAPTER X