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around its seat。 Her face was a frozen grimace of convulsive anticipation。
It gave no warning。 It was as unpredictable as mercury or lightning。 Suddenly it sprang； streaked out at her feet…and a little beyond； as though it had overreached itself。 Its tail part came lashing； switching after it。
All she did was shudder； in a form of death without contact。 Then she deflated as suddenly as it had leaped； her waist sank in； rippled down over the edge of the seat； and she sidled inertly to the ground； retched a couple of times。 There beside her own discarded black coif； with the two jet ornaments spaced on the front of it； and the long sinuous length of whipped…around veiling； that bulged like muscular haunches in places； that the wind had been sending creeping stealthily up on her a little at a time。
Cruel minutes went by； in a gift of renewed life that was hardly wanted any more； it had been so expensive。 She got to her feet again somehow； presently； the black garment on her a biased misfit now； too high up on one shoulder； down off the other one entirely。 Smoky ribbons on her white legs where there had been stockings before。 She wasn't a civilized being any more。 She wasn't a young girl of the city。 She wasn't the Viuda de Contreras' daughter。 She had no name； she had no address。 She wasn't feminine； and she wasn't masculine； she'd sunk to a lower genderless plane。 She'd forgotten what love was； and her tears or the action of her hand had carried a surly red streak of lipstick from the corner of her mouth down to the bottom of her chin and under。 She was just a blindly instinctive thing； struggling feebly to get from the dark to the light； to get from fear to safety。
Terror now was only something parative。 There were accesses of it at times； then at other times there were diminutions of it； there never at any time was a plete absence of it。 She wavered along； on the move once more； head lolling downward on her chest； legs splaying stiffly out behind her； first one then the other； like crutches。 There were stars over her； but they were cold and meaningless。 They seemed so distant； so aloof； pin…point intelligences without pity； looking down from a great height on something trapped in a black pit； watching it go around and around； trying to find its way out； and knowing that it never would。
Then suddenly a new terror was added to those she was already enduring。 A chromatic one； this time。 Color began to well up into the cemetery； giving it a new dimension； giving its horrors depth； that the two…dimensional black and gray had lacked until now。 It was like a reflection from a distance； she couldn't see where it was ing from at first。 It was like the shine of red fire through the trees and between the graves； not rising high； but creeping closely over the ground。
A great； angry eye was opening behind her。 The moon。 But not the cool； tapered moon of lovers and of wishes。 Full…bellied； carnivorous。 With animus toward the living； like everything else in here。 Fuming； fevered； glaring diseasedly； redolent of evil and of things they had taught you long ago in church not to believe in。 Unhallowed things。 Ghouls and goblins； grinning cadavers that pushed their way up out of graves； all subcuticle muscular ligaments in crisscross patches； like something on a medical students' dissection table。 The moon。 The planet that controls madness and psychopathic urge to shed blood。
It doubled； tripled the shadows where it had been black before。 And in the places where it had been less than black； it brought a horrifying； threatening simulation of motion； filtering through the restless leaves and branches。 It made the forms and figures on the graves seem to waver； to sidle and stir and shift in its rays； to mottle like leprous things and glower and leer； where they had at least been still before。 Trees became gnarled shapes bending toward her； reaching down to clutch at her。 Monuments became things crouched behind the bushes and the flowers； dropping their heads lower at the moment she skirted by； to rear up again and slink out after her the instant her back was to them。 Even her own shadow turned against her now； treacherously assailed her by creeping up on her when she least expected it or flinging itself abruptly at her from one side。
She had no leisure to think of anything but the present moment； in the midst of all these terrors； but if she had she would have realized the darkness had already had its victory。 She was already a little dead。 Whether she ever got out of here again or whether she didn't she would never be the same。 Fright had pushed her permanently back into some atavistic past； lived long ago。
And meantime the bilious planet； like everything else in the place； seemed bent on pursuing her。 It slowly climbed the sky after her； clearing itself as it went。 From angry orange to a sulphurous yellow； and from that to white； the bleached white of a skull； eye sockets faintly discernible； inclining downward to look at her from the sky。
A period of trancelike inanition followed for a short while； she was conscious of still stumbling on； but her mind was a little hazy。 Even terror had bee a little blunted； lost some of its sharp edge； though it was still with her。 She was experiencing a sort of hang…over of the mental faculties； brought on by shock and overstimulation。
And then suddenly a little sound came to her； roused her； brought her back to whiplike alertness again。 A little sound of life； the first she'd heard since this horrendous solitude had begun。 The first besides her own screams and footfalls； the first objective one ing from outside her own travail。 The sweetest thing she'd ever heard； sweeter than the sweetest note of music ever struck； lovelier than the loveliest birdcall ever trilled。 A little discord； a thing between a squeak and a； grunt； faint； far…off； ugly； awkward； gauche； but； oh； how wele。 The distant honk of a car horn sounded in passage。
The outside world； the world of the living； was someplace near here； closer at hand than she'd suspected。 She stood there straining her ears； forcing them beyond their powers of attunement； to try to catch it again。 It wouldn't e again。 Just once； and then no more。 She held her breath； she even quieted one of the stirring strips of torn garment banging from her； so that there wouldn't be the slightest sound about her that might cause her to lose it。 But no； it wouldn't e again。
She didn't know which way to go； for she hadn't been quick enough to catch which way it had seemed to e from。 If she moved incautiously she was afraid she might be going farther away instead of nearer to it； end up by losing it altogether。 It hadn't e from behind her； that was the one thing she was sure of。
Since her ears couldn't aid her； or were given no second opportunity to； she tried to force her eyes to do service in their stead。 But the darkness seemed to lie impartially around her in all the three remaining directions… No； wait； didn't there seem to be an evenness to it； over there； on her right； as though there were a surface backing it instead of it continuing to an unconfined depth？ Didn't those motelike flicks of moonlight peering through the leaves over there seem upright against something； instead of lying flat upon the ground？
She struck out suddenly； all hopes of recovering the original position at which she'd heard the telltale sound gladly cast away on the single chance of being right about it。 Through grass； and over lumpy rises at times that； though they might well have been graves； were robbed of all power to terrify her now； for this was life itself that was beckoning to her through their midst。 They could have yawned open under her feet and she would have still leaped across them from lip to lip； the quicker to get where she was going。
And there it was at last； something upright looming there ahead of her； ing closer； gliding toward her with her running； striking at last against the flats of her hands； outstretched to it in appeal； with a roughness of masonry； a scratchy prickiness of mortar； that was more caressing to the touch than velvet or satin could have been。 The boundary wall； the limit of death； the line beyond which it did not go。
Pressed against it； motionless at last； arms upright at her sides； she put her lips to it； kissed it in poignant gratitude。
She must have been making her way； all unsuspecting； along parallel to it for some time past； although it was set out at a considerable distance away from the path she had been following。 It obviously wasn't the front wail； where the gate was； for she had been moving steadily away from that the whole time。 Unless； of course； she had made a plete； blind circuit of the place in the dark； and e back to where she had started from。 But more likely it was either one of the side walls； or the rear one。 She had probably gone entirely through the dread place； to its other end。
There was a noticeable hum now in the air； ing from the other side of it。 Faint and disembodied； an echoing murmur from far off； but still able to intrude upon the stillness that reigned in here。 It was the hum； the drone； that es from houses； from streets； in the distance； in the night。