Above them, to the right, they saw through the dusk a small farm in a patch of vineyard.

A dark figure suddenly hurled itself down a steep path towards them.

Other figures followed it--seemed to wrestle with it; there was a confused wailing and crying--the piteous shrill lamenting of a woman's voice.
'Oh, what is it ?' cried Lucy, clasping her hands.
Manisty spoke a few sharp words to the man leading the horse.

The man stood still and checked his beast.

Manisty ran towards the sounds and the dim struggle on the slope above them.
Such a cry! It rent and desolated the evening peace.