“Where are you?” she called. “I can’t see you.”

“Over here.” The voice echoed and bounced from unseen peaks.

She swung the torch around, but the light couldn’t penetrate the mist.

“For God’s sake, woman, get a move on. I’m bloody well sinking.” His voice sounded desperate now.

“I can’t see you.” Her voice was full of fear. “Keep talking.”

“I’m sinking, damn it. Come and get me out of this infernal thing.”

She started running, first left, then right, like a frightened animal. “Robbie, where are you?”

“Here. I’m here.”

She must have remembered me because she turned to grab my arm and drag me with her. Suddenly we stumbled upon a frightening scene. Only a few yards away from us Robbie Robbins was now up to his waist in the bog. He was thrashing and struggling but he had nothing around him but liquid mud. Trixie screamed, dropped the torch and ran forward. “Oh, my God. Oh, no. Robbie.” She plunged toward him and grabbed his hands, trying with all her strength to pull him clear. The torch fell propped against a clump of grass, throwing an eerie light on the scene.

“It’s no use,” he said. “You’re not strong enough to pull me out. I’m done for. Save yourself now, Trix. Go on, run for it. Take her with you.”

“I’m not leaving you, you bloody fool. Try harder. Move. Kick.”

“I can’t move a bleeding thing,” he said. “My legs are held fast. Run for it, Trix. If they catch you, you’ll swing.”

I could see she was hesitating. The spectacle was horrendous to watch—the bog silently sucking him down. She let go of his hand and then she shrieked. “It’s got me, too. I can’t move my feet.”

Although it looked as if she was standing on grass, she was in bog above her ankles.

She turned back to me. “Help me,” she called.

I stood there in a moment of absolute indecision. I was free. I could run away now and leave them. It was what they deserved, after all. They hadn’t thought twice when they turned the gas tap on a poor old woman or smashed Mr. Barclay’s head in with a piece of masonry. The Lovey Curse was taking its revenge. I started to walk away, but I couldn’t. However despicably they had behaved, I could not leave anyone to die. I told myself I could run for help, but I knew it would be too late. I took a deep breath and stepped gingerly onto the tufted grass that edged the bog.

He was now almost up to his neck, his eyes bulging in terror. She was in past her knees. I felt my own feet beginning to sink as I chose the tufts of grass to stand on. “Here, give me your hand.”