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I must have been stunned by the concussion of the landslide. By a
miracle I had not been struck.
,"Help me! Help me!"
I tried to find the voice. I crawled three feet toward it, and the
wall stopped me. But the voice was there. It came from under the
wall. I felt about me in the darkness, and my hand touched something ,damp. I whipped it back in horror. It was the face of a man.
There was only the face. Where the body and limbs ought to have been
was only rock. The face was on my side of a wall of rock, pinning down ,the body that lay outstretched beyond.
I recognized the voice now. It was that of Philippe Lacroix.
"Ah, _mon Dieu_! Help me! Help me!"
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