r of their lanterns down there at the end of this interminable perspective。
There was something wrong。 The distance to the gate seemed greater than she remembered it。 It was greater； there was no mistaking it。 This wasn't a distortion of panic； of darkness； it was a question of the length of time she had been running； and the distance she had covered。 She should have reached that gate already two or three times over by now。 Even at a walk it had never seemed this far； never been this far； before。
The thought of what it was； of what had happened； was like ice creeping through her veins； numbing as it wound its way。 And then behind it was heat again； ready to claim her in turn； but not the warmth of sanity； of normalcy； any more。 The fever heat of burning madness； the temperature of nightmare。
She was scarcely moving forward now。 She couldn't any more。 She was swaying there； her limbs still trying to carry her forward； only succeeding in making little rotary motions on the ground。 And still it stretched endlessly before her； to that immutable vanishing point it had had all along； ever since back there at the urn。
She tried to think。 Left。 Yes； left。 Izquierda。 That was the word； that was the direction。 But left when？ On ing in； when you wanted to go toward your family's plot？ Or on going out； when you wanted to go toward the gate？ Left was the word。 Rosita had said it that other time； when they had stopped uncertainly for a moment there by it。 She could still hear the remark sound in her mind。 〃No； left； Seсorita Conchita。〃 That part was all right。 But left when？ She couldn't remember whether they had been ing in or going out at the time。 Her mind had been full of him。
She reeled around and looked behind her。 The urn had been lost long ago。 All that met her eyes was another of those vanishing points； no different from the one in front of her。
She'd made the wrong turning； e the wrong way。 She'd plunged deeper into this fastness of the dead； instead of making her way out。 The preliminary sobs of hysteria started to form in her throat； each one rising higher than the one before。 She drove both hands distractedly through the ringleted hair that Raul had once admired so； dislodged the coronet of twisted black braid that encircled it and the veiling depending from it。 They fell to the ground behind her； and she let them stay there unheeded。
The gates must be closed long ago。 They'd never heard her； never guessed。 She was locked in this hideous place for the night； and no one knew it。 They'd gone away and left her in here； with the dead。 She knew that nearsighted old man didn't sleep here on the grounds。 The little kiosk that sheltered him during visiting hours was dark and locked up now。 Its size had told her that at sight； it was just a daytime niche。
She turned and tried to go back along the way she had e just now。 One faltering step was all she could manage。 Her courage failed her。 She couldn't do it。 She couldn't go back into that maw of darkness behind her that she had passed through once already。 True； it was as dark ahead of her； but there was something even worse about darkness revisited than about darkness already explored。 As though she would be giving latent evil a second chance at her if she returned。 That dolorously crooning wind was ing from back there。 The trees were rustling and hissing； like living things stalking her； from back there。
She heeled her hands to her eyes； held them tightly pressed there to try to shut out the terrible sights she had not seen yet； but was afraid she might have to see at any minute。 Her teeth were chattering with terror； and with the nervous chill induced by it。 She took her hands away from her eyes at length； and found she had begun to move again； without knowing it； in the meantime。 Slowly now； uncertainly； erratically； without purpose or destination。 She was meandering down the center of the avenue； with the wavering gait of someone about to drop in a heap at any moment。 Still in the direction in which she had been going all along； for she could still go forward if not back。 Her jerky； unpredictable progress was that of something bereft of all reason。 Which； temporarily； she was。
A bench edged up beside her along the perimeter of the lane； bleached white； cadaverous against the gloom； like something with an invisible spotlight trained on it。 She turned aside； fell rather than walked over to it； and； as though its presence and support were some sort of emotional release； flung the upper part of her body prone against the seat of it； legs trailing out behind her along the ground； and exploded into a cataclysm of sobbing that was so violent it couldn't by its very nature have lasted long without rendering her unconscious。
It didn't。 She stopped again； from sheer rib stricture and breath stoppage； and remained there quiescent。 But not unaware。 Fear was creeping back over her again； like a thin glazed coating； even while she huddled there without moving。 It touched off reflex action； finally。 She scissored her legs suddenly； like a swimmer on dry ground； switched her head around； looked behind her。 The instinctive reaction of those in the dark； afraid of the dark。 A scream of dismay wrenched through her stiffened lips； and she tried to burrow her head and shoulders into the furthermost inner corner of the bench seat and back with such spasmodic terror that she struck her forehead violently against the cold hard stone and still didn't even feel the blow。
There was something creeping up along one side of the blurred gray pathway upon her。 Something black； sinuous； belly…flat； tail snaking。 Sometimes the offside gloom effaced it； sometimes the lighter tone of the path outlined its undulation。 But on one side only。 There was a wink； a tiny flash too dull to be called bright； every now and again from its forepart； as a ray from some star high overhead struck some glistening or liquefied beadlike area receptive to light。
Its advance was irregular； with the irregularity of stealth。 It would undulate quickly； covertly； forward； so quickly the ripple it made seemed almost an optical illusion。 Then it would stop short； seem lifeless； nothing but a shadow； gathering itself for the next treacherous little creep。 Even while she looked； eyes huge with brain…turning horror； she saw its tail； its slender ropelike after appendage； give a little flirt upward； a twitch； then flatten again。 It made another little stealthy； squirming run； stopped again with hair…trigger timing。
She was paralyzed。 Approaching dissolution robs the body of movement。 She was cataleptically silent； after that first scream of discovery； for the same reason。 There is a depth of fright beyond screaming that is silent。 She had heaved herself upward off the ground without use of her arms； climbing up the joint between bench back and side arm by motion of her shoulders alone； without turning to look at it。 That was the most she could do to try to get away from it； wedge herself distortedly into the shallow indentation of a low stone bench； arched backbreakingly at the waist 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 th