ks as ts strange cargo drove tes s   es to be locked before full dark. t   alerted o something else . . .

    “trucks and op near te-like doors to t’s stopped.”

    toucone brougo a , and listened, cocking an ear torue enoughe yverley village bell.

    “It is a mile,” antly. “Peroo far, the wind . . .”

    “No,” said Sabriel. S till on here was no wind.

    “You could al the sarcophagus inside, quickly!”

    So anding on teps outside tially open door, talking to an obscured figure  closer, edging ting soldiers, s ress.

    “enant-General Farnsley, I’ll have you know—Sabriel!”

    t of Sabriel in sucrange garb and circumstance seemed to momentarily stun Mrs.

    Umbrade. In t second of fisioned to est, treams of armed men rusartled figure like a flood around an island.

    “Mrs. Umbrade!” Sabriel sed. “I need to talk to Miss Greenly, and tter get t of taff up to top floors of tower.”

    Mrs. Umbrade stood, gulping like a goldfisill horyse suddenly loomed over her and snapped, “Move, woman!”

    Almost before h closed, she was gone.

    Sabriel looked back to c toucone ing of then followed her in.

    trance rucks outside, stacking the walls. Khaki-colored boxes marked “. Ball”

    or “BE P Grenade,” piled up beneatures of prizelettered boards of merit and scic brilliance.

    to t ters and piling pe ttered windows.

    Mrs. Umbrade ill in motion at trance ling along to of obviously nervous staff. Beair, s. Beair, and just abl