‘Yes,’ I said.
I was just about to tell her to run for the doorway through which the others had gone when she cried out, ‘Look!’ She was pointing to the roof of the monastery buildings opposite. For an instant I saw the figure of a man outlined against another shower of sparks. He was running along the roof.’ Is that him?‘she asked.
‘Yes,’ I said. ‘The lava’s scared him. He’s coming for the car.’ I got out the little automatic Zina had given me, loaded it and stood there waiting.
He wasn’t long. He flung out through the doorway and jumped into the Fiat. I heard the starter buzz. Then the sound was drowned in the crumbling roar of another building going down. The dust rose as the sound died. Sansevino was still pressing the starter button. Then he abandoned it and dived into the Buick. Again the buzz of a starter. I could see his face in the dashboard light. The eyes glittered with panic and I suddenly wanted to laugh. I’d have stood in the very path of a thousand streams of lava to see fear so stamped on the man’s face.
When he realised it wouldn’t start he got out and went back to the Fiat. He tried the starter again. Then he opened the bonnet. It didn’t take him long to realise what the trouble was. He straightened up, looking about him as though sensing our presence. For an instant he stared at the doorway where we were standing. His hand reached to his pocket and he began to come towards us.
At that moment a great vomit of fire sprawled into the sky. He turned and glanced upwards, his body crouched as though to ward off a blow. He stayed like that as though petrified while the arch of flame spread over the underbelly of the black, billowing gases that covered the sky and the roar of the mountain shook the ground under our feet. There was a whistling sound and something fell with a thud into the courtyard sending up a little puff of ash. Then he straightened up and at the same moment a rain of stones descended on the courtyard, hot stones that smouldered where they fell. They clattered against the stone of the monastery building and rolled to our feet, smouldering and stinking of sulphur.
Sansevino was running now, slithering and stumbling on the loose ash. In the ruddy glare I could see his face twisted with terror. He almost made the main gateway, but then suddenly he was struck down. It seemed to catch him by the shoulder and send him sprawling in the ash. Above the sound of the mountain and the thump of falling stones I heard his squeal of fear. He twisted over and over, his body contorted, and then he was up again, limping painfully and making for the archway. He reached it and disappeared into the shadows.
The fall of stones ceased as abruptly as it had begun. I gave Hilda one of the rotor arms. ‘See if you can find the others,’ I told her. ‘I’m going after him.’
‘Why not let him go?’
‘No,’ I said. ‘He may be the only one who can lead us to your father. I must try and stop him. You get the others.’