He found himself imitating Paleologue by and by, and calling her name aloud. The attempts of the sentries to get the pair of them back to the house were met by thrust upon thrust; a good square push from the shoulder here and a dive into an opening there. Gradually they won their way up the street, but could not find her; and upon that a sense of desperation drove them to some imprudence, and they began to deal in blows. Such madness might have brought a swift penalty but for the fire which the priest's death had kindled. The God of Ranovica, designing that these people should perish to bear witness to their faith, willed also that Ranovica should fall with them, and that the priest should be the instrument. From his body the flames had run to the crazy house; from the house to the church, and thence to the narrow street, which instantly became aglow. Faber found himself pressing forward amid showers of sparks, and still crying "Maryska--Maryska!" as though the child's voice could be heard amid the din. Turks pressed about him shielding their faces with sun-browned arms and cursing the "spawn of dogs" by which the visitation had come upon them. He was driven in and out of courtyards, tossed hither and thither by the human wave, whose crest was the whirling scimitars of the destroyers. In the end he found himself out upon the hillside, flaming Ravonica below him, and the still air alive with the cries of its people. Paleologue had disappeared; there was no trace of Maryska, and he himself had hardly a rag upon his back. He sat down upon a great boulder, and presently heard a familiar voice. It was that of his valet, Frank. "Mr. Faber, is that you, sir?" "I guess it is, Frank." "Thank God for that, sir! Our baggage is done for, sure and certain. The house is afire from top to bottom, sir." "Never mind the baggage, Frank. Have you seen Mr. Paleologue?" "He was down among the soldiers five minutes ago, sir." "And the young lady?" Frank could not answer. "She went away with some of the young women--I think toward the church, sir." "Was that long ago?" "About five minutes before they fired it; I'm sure it wasn't more." "Well, look at the church now, anyway. This is an awful business, Frank." "I suppose in their way it's what they call war, sir. But it's a terrible business." "Ah!" said Faber. "I suppose it would be. You don't happen to have a cigar on you, Frank?" "I've got a few cigarettes, sir." "Then pass one up. We'll go and look for Mr. Paleologue presently; I guess he's taken the lower road. We should find both of them there." "I hope we shall do so, sir."