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‘It is all very well to say, “Get to hell out of here.” How?’ said Robin angrily. ‘You'll know quickly enough if you stay and have one of these bloody things crashing a hole through your skull – that will leave a way out!’ ‘That won't be less likely if you start walking around here.’
‘You're caught either way – stay or leave.’
The voice seemed familiar.
‘Who are you, pray?’ said Robin and Roland together. The wind was rising. The crash of the bullets seemed to be heavier, to become merged with the storm. ‘God damn it! They are shells!’
‘You use my name in vain! … in vain, in vain, in vain. …’
The words were echoing round the storm.
‘Christ! I must be hearing voices now! Who are you?’ ‘Christ – .’ The voice echoed round and the storm dropped suddenly to a whisper – ‘All Mighty’.
The silence was so sudden that the words were clearly and shockingly audible.
‘What the devil was that?’
‘At your service!’