With one accord they fled swiftly down the side of the long； heartlessly empty road； again one behind the other。 The moment they did； the rustling resumed again behind them； quickened in turn now。 It was governed by whatever they did； that was easy to see。 It was the pursuer； and they were its prey。 It became a crashing at times； plainly audible above their slapping footfalls and hot； frightened breaths。 A succession of lopes that cleared the ground and burst head。 long through the impeding foliage at each impetus。
〃Scream；〃 Sally panted。 〃Maybe someone will hear us！〃
Marjorie hadn't waited to be told。 〃Help！〃 she keened dismally； 〃Help！〃 But she was already too out of breath from their long run to be able to emit more than a thin； disjointed bleat。
The rustling and crashing were changing direction now； drawing slowly but surely in toward them； ing diagonally at them instead of merely keeping parallel。 There were many places where the coverage between was so thin they might have been able to glimpse who or what it was； but that would have meant slowing to turn their heads； and they were both too frightened and too intent on getting away。 Or perhaps they realized instinctively that the sight of whatever it was might so add to their terror as to rob them of all further use of their limbs altogether。
Marjorie was the better runner of the two。 She was taller and longer…waisted。 Twice she caught herself pulling slowly away from the other girl； without meaning to； first by a five…yard lead； then by ten； then by more。 Twice she stopped； waited for the gap to close； tried to pull her along with her by the hand。 Sally evaded the offered link； perhaps afraid it would hamper both of them alike。 〃I'm all right；〃 she heaved valorously。 〃Just keep going…！〃
They were both staggering now from exhaustion； wavering； ready to fall。 And the road never seemed to end； help never seemed to e； the horror behind them never seemed to tire。
She was aware of Sally beginning to drop behind again。 Her shadow； which had been bobbing over Marjorie's own shoulder until now； in the moonlit gaps； fell short somewhere behind her； she couldn't see it any more。 The sound of her harried breathing was no longer as distinct behind her either。 But she couldn't go on herself any more； Marjorie。 There was a knife in her side； and she found herself finally spent。 〃I can't keep up；〃 she coughed。 〃I've got to fall down here。 You go on…〃
She swung around to let her friend go by； stood there swaying and weaving dizzily about in the road； like a drunk； from the long run。
The road was empty behind her； in moonlight and shadow； back as far as the eye could reach。 Sally wasn't on it any more。 There was only silence； on it and in the thickets that bordered it。 Silence and moonlight and shadow。
No； not quite empty either。 At the roadside； peering out between the bushes； lay a wisp of something on the ground； back twenty or thirty yards from her。 The edge of a dress。 A corner of the bottom of a garment； inert on the ground。
Even as she looked； it was slowly withdrawn； this overlooked flounce； slowly dragged in from sight； in a way that showed its wearer's volition was no longer involved。 A final whisk； and it had vanished。
Not a sound； not a cry； not a whisper。
She had never fainted before。 Her senses were probably overcharged from the run； bringing on vertigo。 She knew she wanted to get back there； to help her friend。 Instead； somehow； she found herself flat on the ground； without any sensation of having fallen or of striking herself against it。 Her eyes seemed to remain open； too。 But all she could see was a pattern of spheres or disks of all sizes； big and medium and small； rising slowly before them in straight lines； like the bubbles in champagne。
A quarter of an hour later the coachman； returning belatedly for them with his curbed horse； found her straying dazedly along the roadside； near the place where he had left them。 There were flecks of blood on her dress； it was tattered from brambles； her hair was straggling loosely down her shoulders； and she was holding a hand pressed distractedly crosswise to her forehead。 She even made to pass him by； as if she didn't recognize the meaning of the carriage when she saw it。
He had to jump down beside her and take her by the arm to stop her。 〃 Seсorita； que le paso？ 〃 he cried dismayedly。
〃Take me to the police；〃 she whispered； in an oddly quiet manner。 〃My friend's lying in there； torn to pieces。〃
Robles said on the telephone： 〃It would be easier if we had someone down here who speaks English。 There is a police interpreter somewhere； but I cannot locate him。 We have been giving her restoratives in the meantime and treating her for shock…〃
Manning was at the andancia within ten minutes。
The girl was sitting there in Robles' office。 She was obviously not normal yet； he could tell that at sight。 Yet she was not weeping nor even noticeably nervous any longer。 She seemed； continually； to be lost in thought。 A strange icy calm seemed to have descended on her。 She had a policeman's uniform coat thrown over her shoulders like a cape； to hide the blood spats and rents on the upper part of her dress。 Her unfastened hair； without being rebed； had been pushed back behind her shoulders。 It made her seem about sixteen。 There was no other woman with her； the municipal police department not yet having any policewomen attached to its staff。
His first thought was anyone's first thought at sight of Marjorie King： what a beautiful person she was。 But then he didn't think any further of it after that once…for the present。 He hadn't gone there； naturally； to admire feminine beauty。
They weren't introduced。 He just asked her a tactful question in English； and that elicited the story。 Then he repeated it in his fluent； if somewhat raffish and ungrammatical； Spanish for Robles； and it was taken down stenographically。 Even the repetition of it to him； he noticed； seemed unable to alter the numbness of mind that gripped her。 It was as though she were speaking by rote； without the words having any meaning to her。 It reminded him of cases of shell shock he had heard of； where the effects were delayed from twenty…four to forty…eight hours。
Robles and his camarilla of specialists were now ready to repair to the scene； which had naturally been already under police supervision long ahead of this； awaiting his arrival。
〃It will not be necessary…〃 he started to assure the girl through Manning； but to everyone's surprise she showed a wish to go with them。
〃It can't do anything more to me than it has already；〃 she said； looking up at Manning。
He knew that she was addressing him and the rest of them without really seeing their faces； without differentiating among them as individuals at all。
〃I don't want to go back to that room and be alone there。 Not just yet anyway。 I can sit in the car； without getting out。〃
In the end； because as she had pointed out she was no worse off in one place than in another； they allowed her to acpany them back。 She sat in the rear； between Manning and Robles。 The man that she had displaced rode outside； clinging to the top of the door frame。
The drive out to the Bosque was a grim and depressing one。 They all felt heavy and sick and frustrated； faces broodingly downcast。 Robles didn't even have a stomach for doing very much crowing to Manning about the error in the latter's whole thesis that this seemed to confirm once and for all； justified as he would have been in doing so。
〃So I was right； you see；〃 was all he said； in a curiously listless undertone across Marjorie's profile。 〃We've been holding Cardozo； and it's hap。 pened again right while he's in custody。 I'll have to order his release at once。〃
〃I made no direct accusation against him； if you remember；〃 the American contented himself with remarking。 〃But the fact that it's not Cardozo doesn't necessarily mean that it's not a m…〃
He refrained from finishing it。 This was no time to wrangle over points of view； in the presence of this girl's livid grief。
〃Are you sure you're all right？〃 he asked her solicitously； as they swung