She now knew not in what direction she was going, save that it was away from the brown, murky night that was engulfing her and towards the remnant of livid day that, through a fold of her wrapping, still showed ahead. Not forty yards from her was a glare as of red copper. It broke into a frightful bright flame, and was smothered again; and its roaring filled her ears. That glimpse of hell appalled her; she gave a shriek and fled from it in a straight line, as the sheep and birds had fled.
Then from behind the dark curtain of smoke there came suddenly a shriller noise and a succession of loud cracks, an indescribable mingling. A bright and lurid light towered high over her, and yellow flame twisted upwards shrieking. Something—she knew not what—so different was happening there that all at once an intelligence broke on her—she was close to the birches, which were ablaze. Arthur would be there—would be there, as he had promised—though her own courage had failed. Arthur would be there waiting ... again she began to utter piercing cries.
Through the tempest of roaring came another short crack, as if of a pistol; smoke and fierce heat suffocated her; and she gave one last lost cry.
An “Ahoy!” answered her. She was seized, by whom she knew not, and the skirt was pressed closer about her head. Somebody hurried her forward, lifting her from time to time completely off her feet; and her head was so completely enwrapped that she did not know that twenty yards away the breathing was easier. She was scarce conscious that her feet were taking steep rising ground; she only knew that the heat was abated. She was borne swiftly forward; presently her head was partly uncovered; but there was no respite from the lifting and climbing.
Actually, it was not more than five minutes before they were well up the hillside, with the conflagration sweeping away from them below. She heard a gasping voice: “Not yet—more into the wind!” and she was helped forward until a freshening breeze fanned her face. She was placed on a bed of heather; she remembered afterwards that either she saw Jimmy or dreamed she did; but Arthur was far up the hillside, firing the heather again.
She lay for a quarter of an hour before he returned; then he flung himself beside her and broke suddenly into sobs that shook his frame.
“Oh, my darling!” he cried heart-brokenly; “where had you been?”
She murmured something, her own eyes closing; and then he seized her as if even yet some horror strove to part them.
“Oh, I waited—waited—all Soyland blazed—and the wind turned and still you didn’t come; but I knew you were clever and brave, though I couldn’t see you.... Ah! This won’t do.”
He stood up and began to walk about. Presently he was calmer, and sat down again.