she help seeing us? You know she hates Evangelina and me."

"I tell you she sees nothing, knows nothing--" For a moment or two
they watched the progress of the white-robed figure; then Esteban
stirred and rose from his seat. "She's too close to that well.
There is--" He started forward a pace or two. "They say people who
walk at night go mad if they're awakened too suddenly, and yet--"

Dona Isabel was talking in a low, throaty, unnatural tone. Her
words were meaningless, but the effect, at that hour and in those
surroundings, was bizarre and fearsome. Esteban felt his scalp
prickling uncomfortably. This was very creepy.

When the somnambulist's deliberate progress toward the mouth of
the well continued he called her name softly. "Dona Isabel!" Then
he repeated it louder. "Dona Isabel! Wake up."

The woman seemed to hear and yet not to hear. She turned her head
to listen, but continued to walk.

"Don't be alarmed," he said, reassuringly. "It is only Esteban--
DONA ISABEL! STOP!" Esteban sprang forward, shouting at the top of
his voice, for at the sound of his name Isabel had abruptly
swerved to her right, a movement which brought her dangerously
close to the lip of the well.

"STOP! GO BACK!" screamed the young man.

Above his warning there came a shriek, shrill and agonized--a wail
of such abysmal terror as to shock the night birds and the insects