At last they could hear steps--slow, cautious steps, full of fear--and the light appeared again, dancing from side to side. It seemed to be a small lantern, carefully shaded, so that only a narrow beam of light escaped; and that beam was sent dancing from side to side along the street, in dark corners, under fallen doorways. Suddenly it stopped, and Stewart's heart leaped sickeningly as he saw that the beam rested on a face--a white face, staring up with sightless eyes. The light approached, hung above it--a living hand caught up the dead one, on which there was the gleam of gold, a knife flashed---- And then, from the darkness almost beside them, four darts of flame stabbed toward the kneeling figure, and the ruins rocked with a great explosion. When Stewart opened his eyes again, he saw a squad of soldiers, each armed with an electric torch, standing about the body of the robber of the dead, while their sergeant emptied his pockets. There were rings--one still encircling a severed finger--money, a watch, trinkets of every sort, some of them quite worthless. The man was in uniform, and the sergeant, ripping open coat and shirt, drew out the little identifying tag of metal which hung about his neck, broke it from its string, and thrust it into his pocket. Then he gathered the booty into his handkerchief, tied the ends together with a satisfied grunt, and gave a gruff command. The lights vanished and the squad stumbled ahead into the darkness. There was a moment's silence. Stewart's nerves were quivering so that he could scarcely control them--he could feel his mouth twitching, and put his hand up to stop it. "We can't go on," he muttered. "We must go back. This is too horrible--it is unbearable!" Together they stole tremblingly out of the ruin, along the littered street, past the church-tower, across the road, over the wall, back into the clean fields. There they flung themselves down gaspingly, side by side. How sweet the smell of the warm earth, after the stench of the looted town! How calm and lovely the stars. Stewart, staring up at them, felt a great serenity descend upon him. After all, what did it matter to the universe--this trivial disturbance upon this tiny planet? Men might kill each other, nations disappear; but the stars would swing on in their courses, the constellations go their predestined ways. Of what significance was man in the great scheme of things? How absurd the pomp of kings and kaisers, how grotesque their assumption of greatness! A stifled sob startled him. He groped quickly for his comrade, and found her lying prone, her face buried in her arms. He drew her close and held her as he might have held a child. After all, she was scarcely more than that--a child, delicate and sensitive. As a child might, she pillowed her head upon his breast and lay there sobbing softly.