"Raul!"
It was Luis, waving a Winchester.
"Luis, get them out of the dining room. Come on, Luis!"
But the raiders were gone; there were only flames in the dining room. Kerosene had been sloshed over the furniture and drapes and the conflagration roared, driving them outside.
Raul dashed for Manuel's room, his own armed men passing him, headed for the walls and turrets.
"Save the house, the living room ... use dirt and sand ... beat out the fire!" he shouted, and wondered whether anyone heard him or cared.
Among the frightened horses, in the stable, he leaned over Manuel. A terrified horse had kicked him and knocked him unconscious. Raul brought water and rubbed a cold wet cloth over his face, arms, and chest.
"Manuel ... Manuel ... let's get out of here! Manuel ... are you badly hurt?"
"Raul..."
"Now, now can you sit up?"