slab turned slightly on itself, to the right. The socket in which the stones rested was so made that they could swing and slip out of their frame on that side.
With a shout of triumph, he swung the pick over his head.
"Maria-Teresa! Maria-Teresa!"
Behind him, the madman was calling too.
"Maria Cristina! Maria Cristina!"
Dick was still raining blows on the slab. Soon it had turned so far that he could catch hold of it with his hands, and tore them in a vain effort to hasten. With the handle of the pick he pushed on the left again, and the stone came half out of its socket.
This time, both he and Orellana could get firm hold and put their strength into it. The stone yielded, came toward them. "Maria-Teresa! Maria-Teresa!" One more effort and she would be free.
A prodigious heave, a struggle with teeth set and breath whistling, and the slab came away altogether, thundered on the floor as Dick hurled it from off his shoulder.
"Maria-Teresa!"
There was no answer from the tightly-bound head dimly visible in the darkness. He leaned forward.
"My God. It's not Maria-Teresa!"
