He leaped for the fence and gained its top, looking back with a blanched face to see the offender smitten.

He wanted to go at once, but this might be worth waiting for.
Wilbur continued to pick berries.

Again he chanted loudly, mocking the solemnities of eternity: Old Jonas Whipple Was an old cripple! Was an old-- The mockery died in his throat, and he froze to a statue of fear.

Beyond the headstone of Jonas Whipple, and toward the centre of the plot, a clump of syringa was plainly observed to sway with the movements of a being unseen.
"I told you!" came the hoarse whisper of Merle, but he, too, was chained by fright to the fence top.
They waited, breathless, in the presence of the king of terrors.

Again the bush swayed with a sinister motion.