“She cannot hold the priest back fo

“She cannot hold the priest back for long.” She moved, fast but cautious, to the entrance of the tunnel and stepped inside. Margaret hesitated for only a moment, then joined Fiona over the threshold. Fiona reached back and pulled the door shut. With any luck, the priest might think the tapestry fell on its own.
The lantern offered little glow. They could see but a few inches before them. Fiona tried hard not to imagine the myriad of creatures scuttling away from the light. She felt a cobweb brush her face, like the hand of a ghost.
“We’ll be fine, Margaret. There’s nothing here but shadows and a few spiders.” She lied to her sister. Inside, she prayed silently for courage. Her heart beat like a rabbit’s, so fast she could scarcely breathe. Still, she put one foot in front of the other, and they inched their way forward. But only a moment passed before the door swung open and Father Bettney shouted.
“You there!” the priest’s voice boomed, echoing like thunder. “Come out at once. You’ve no business in this passageway.”
He loomed, a stark silhouette against the dim light in the sacristy. His reedy form filled the doorway like a leafless tree in winter.
Fear and frustration collided in Fiona’s lungs. What had become of Genevieve? There was no sign of her.
“Father Bettney, ’tis I, Fiona.” She held the lantern up to her face.
“Fiona?” His scowl deepened. He came forward a few feet and grabbed her by the wrist. “I heard you had returned. But you have no business in this tunnel.”
She tried to wrest her hand free, but his grip was made of iron. Quickly, he pulled her back into the sacristy, and Margaret followed.
“What antics are these?” he demanded, glaring from her to Margaret. The pockmarks on his cheeks stood out in contrast to the flush of his skin.
Fiona’s mind went painfully blank, and in the panic of the moment, she could think of no story to offer but the truth. It was her only hope of getting back into that tunnel in time.
“I am on a mission of mercy, Father. Please understand, it is imperative I unlock the gates of the passageway.”
“Why?” The question wheezed from his chest.
Lord save them, she did not have time for explanation! But surely a man of God, even a man as vile as this priest, would be on the side of saving lives.
“Do you know of Simon’s plans? To fight the king?”
His eyes narrowed. “If I did, what matter is it of yours?”
“’Tis a war we will lose, Father. Our good, brave men will perish. But the Campbells await entrance into Sinclair Hall. If we let them claim Simon, no Sinclair blood need spill.”
His face suffused with color. Words sputtered from his lips like spittle. “You stupid girl! What have you done? You would let our enemy in?”
His anger was an oppressive burst, smothering her with its intensity. Margaret moved behind her, and Fiona extended her own hands as if to calm the irate priest.
“They are not our enemy, Father. ’Tis a great sacrifice to hand over Simon. It breaks my very heart to do so. But if we forfeit him, the truce will hold and Clan Sinclair will regain its rightful place among the great families of Scotland. The king has promised.”
“Lies! All lies, you foolish chit! I warned your brothers Cedric Campbell would turn you into one of them. Just as he did your mother.” He spit on the floor as if mentioning her left a vile taste in his mouth.
Fiona’s blood thickened in her veins. “What do you know of Cedric Campbell and my mother?”
Sweat beaded, slick and bright, upon his face. A rivulet ran down into the crease along his cheek. “I know she used this passage to sneak out to meet him, the conniving whore.” His voice sliced the air, the edges sharp enough to cut. He reached out and twisted the keys from her hand, throwing them to the corner. Fiona’s fear doubled at his accusation. “My mother was no whore.”
Contempt twisted his expression; his eyes blazed. “I know differently. Time and again, she traversed this tunnel to lie with him. I watched them, rutting like animals in the woods.”
Margaret gasped into Fiona’s ear, and the priest kept talking. His rage built with every word.
“Your mother was an adulteress! A faithless Jezebel!” He waved a knobby finger at their faces, his words coming fast and furious. “She had no loyalty to husband and none to her clan! And you, it seems, are cut from the same filthy cloth.”
And as he railed, a realization formed within Fiona’s mind, like frost creeping across a windowpane one tiny fragment at a time. ’Twas the priest who’d seen her mother last. ’Twas he who carried her body into the hall the day she died.
“Was it you?” Breathless, she could scarcely form the words.
Father Bettney sneered, a madman gripped in disillusion, his movements jerky and uneven. Froth gathered at the corners of his mouth as he spoke.
“She had no shame, that one! No remorse.” He waved a fist, his words sizzling in the dry air.
Margaret’s breath was fast upon her neck.
“Such immorality demanded purification. I gave her every chance at absolution, but she’d not repent.

Hasil (Bahasa Indonesia) 1:

"Dia tidak bisa menahan imam lama." Dia pindah, cepat tapi hati-hati, ke pintu masuk terowongan dan melangkah ke dalam. Margaret ragu-ragu untuk hanya beberapa saat, kemudian bergabung dengan Fiona batas. Fiona mencapai kembali dan ditarik menutup pintu. Dengan sedikit keberuntungan, imam mungkin berpikir permadani jatuh pada sendiri.Lentera ditawarkan sedikit cahaya. Mereka bisa melihat tetapi beberapa inci sebelum mereka. Fiona berusaha keras untuk tidak membayangkan berbagai makhluk yang bergerak cepat dari cahaya. Dia merasa cobweb sikat wajah, seperti tangan hantu."Kami akan baik-baik, Margaret. Tidak ada di sini tetapi bayangan dan beberapa Spider." Dia berbohong kepada kakaknya. Di dalam, dia berdoa diam-diam untuk keberanian. Hatinya mengalahkan seperti kelinci, begitu cepat dia hampir tidak bisa bernapas. Namun, dia menempatkan satu kaki di depan yang lain, dan mereka inchi cara mereka maju. Tetapi hanya sebentar berlalu sebelum pintu berayun terbuka dan Bapa Bettney berteriak."Anda di sana!" imam suara menggelegar, bergema seperti thunder. "Keluar sekaligus. Anda sudah tidak ada bisnis di lorong ini."Ia menjulang, siluet yang mencolok terhadap cahaya redup sakristi. Bentuk Reedy sebagai penuh pintu seperti pohon tumbuhan di musim dingin.Ketakutan dan frustrasi bertabrakan di paru-paru dariotto. Apa yang terjadi kepada Genevieve? Tiada tanda-nya."Bapa Bettney, ' tis saya, Fiona." Dia memegang lentera ke wajahnya."Fiona?" Nya cemberut diperdalam. Ia maju beberapa kaki dan meraih oleh pergelangan tangan. "Saya mendengar Anda telah kembali. Tapi Anda tidak punya bisnis dalam terowongan ini."Dia mencoba untuk merebut tangannya gratis, tetapi pegangan terbuat dari besi. Cepat, ia menarik kembali ke sakristi, dan Margaret diikuti."Apa kejenakaan semuanya ini?" dia menuntut, mencolok darinya untuk Margaret. Bopeng di pipinya berdiri dalam kontras dengan memerah kulitnya.Dariotto pikiran pergi menyakitkan kosong, dan dalam kepanikan saat, dia bisa berpikir tidak ada cerita untuk tawaran, tetapi kebenaran. Itu dia-satunya harapan untuk mendapatkan kembali ke terowongan itu dalam waktu."Saya berada dalam sebuah misi untuk belas kasihan, Bapa. Harap dimengerti, sangat penting saya membuka gerbang lorong.""Kenapa?" Pertanyaan wheezed dari dadanya.Tuhan menyelamatkan mereka, ia tidak punya waktu untuk penjelasan! Tapi pasti abdi Allah, bahkan orang sebagai jahat sebagai imam ini, akan di sisi menyelamatkan nyawa."Apakah Anda tahu Simon's rencana? Untuk melawan Raja?"Matanya mempersempit. "Jika saya melakukan, apa masalah ini adalah Anda?""'Tis a perang kita akan kehilangan, Bapa. Laki-laki kami baik, berani akan binasa. Tapi Campbells menunggu masuk ke Sinclair Hall. Jika kita membiarkan mereka mengklaim Simon, tidak ada darah Sinclair perlu tumpahan."Wajahnya diliputi dengan warna. Kata-kata tergagap dari bibirnya seperti ludah. "Anda bodoh gadis! Apa yang telah Anda lakukan? Anda akan membiarkan musuh kita?"Kemarahan adalah burst menindas, mencekik dirinya dengan intensitas. Margaret pindah di belakangnya, dan Fiona diperpanjang tangannya sendiri seolah-olah untuk menenangkan imam marah.“They are not our enemy, Father. ’Tis a great sacrifice to hand over Simon. It breaks my very heart to do so. But if we forfeit him, the truce will hold and Clan Sinclair will regain its rightful place among the great families of Scotland. The king has promised.”“Lies! All lies, you foolish chit! I warned your brothers Cedric Campbell would turn you into one of them. Just as he did your mother.” He spit on the floor as if mentioning her left a vile taste in his mouth.Fiona’s blood thickened in her veins. “What do you know of Cedric Campbell and my mother?”Sweat beaded, slick and bright, upon his face. A rivulet ran down into the crease along his cheek. “I know she used this passage to sneak out to meet him, the conniving whore.” His voice sliced the air, the edges sharp enough to cut. He reached out and twisted the keys from her hand, throwing them to the corner. Fiona’s fear doubled at his accusation. “My mother was no whore.”Contempt twisted his expression; his eyes blazed. “I know differently. Time and again, she traversed this tunnel to lie with him. I watched them, rutting like animals in the woods.”Margaret gasped into Fiona’s ear, and the priest kept talking. His rage built with every word.“Your mother was an adulteress! A faithless Jezebel!” He waved a knobby finger at their faces, his words coming fast and furious. “She had no loyalty to husband and none to her clan! And you, it seems, are cut from the same filthy cloth.”And as he railed, a realization formed within Fiona’s mind, like frost creeping across a windowpane one tiny fragment at a time. ’Twas the priest who’d seen her mother last. ’Twas he who carried her body into the hall the day she died.“Was it you?” Breathless, she could scarcely form the words.Father Bettney sneered, a madman gripped in disillusion, his movements jerky and uneven. Froth gathered at the corners of his mouth as he spoke.“She had no shame, that one! No remorse.” He waved a fist, his words sizzling in the dry air.Margaret’s breath was fast upon her neck.“Such immorality demanded purification. I gave her every chance at absolution, but she’d not repent.