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wimmer 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 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 l