After many futile attempts, Crane managed to struggle into a sitting position. The light from the burning roof provided sufficient illumination to enable him to see that the hamlet was deserted and given over to the ravages of the fire which had gained such headway that to remain longer where he was would be fatal. The wall above him might crumble in at any time. Breathing had become difficult and painful. The smoke that filled his lungs shook him with rasping, suffocating spells of coughing. Dimly he heard sounds of receding conflict beyond the village.
Crane struggled to his feet and lurched weakly forward, blinded with the smoke. Next moment, overcome with the intense heat, he fainted dead away.
It was some time after that Crane again regained consciousness. This time he was lying on the ground, his head reclining comfortably on a pillow made of some folded garment. A water-soaked bandage encircled his brow, giving inexpressible relief. He attempted to pull himself together and sit up, but desisted from the effort with an involuntary groan.
"Hello, here's old Crane coming around after all," said the voice of Fenton, somewhere close at hand.
"Right as rain in a minute," said Crane weakly. Then, after a pause, "Where am I?"
"Don't know exactly myself," said Fenton. "We got you out of the burning village just in the nick of time and carried you back into the woods here. How are you feeling now?"
"A little brandy would make a new man of me. Any handy?"
A flask, containing some raw, red-hot Ironian equivalent, was produced and a liberal measure poured down his throat. Crane coughed, spluttered and finally sat up, little the worse for wear, but still weak and decidedly giddy in the head.
"What happened?" he demanded.
"Everything went off as per schedule," said Fenton. "The Austrians started to set fire to the village, and then Larescu and his men opened fire on them. The invaders put up a short fight and retired with more precipitancy than order. Last I saw of it, they were headed for the river with the hill men in hot pursuit. If the river has continued to rise, the Austrians will have some difficulty in getting back to their own side. I didn't join in the chase as I was getting anxious about you. Luckily, Mademoiselle Petrowa found you and managed to drag you out of the road just before the front of a burning hut collapsed on you."