"He's got us, Sir, he's got us," said Mas. Even in that moment Quin saw how he held his arm. "You're hurt?" "I fell down the chute, Sir, the fire almost caught me." The flames roared now. The inside of the Mill was a furnace. Fire played fantastic games on the high sloping roof. "There's a boat----" "I know," said Quin. "These hoosiers ain't game," said Mac. A bigger crowd of those who weren't game to tackle wild beasts gathered round them. Faces were white in the glow of the fire. "At the house, Sir----" "They're all right. I'll go after him," said Quin. He ran, and Mac cried-- "Take my gun, Sir----" But Quin did not hear him. He ran round the end of the Mill and was lost. In another moment they saw him in the boat out upon the river. Pete went out of sight. The crowd watched till Quin was out of sight, too. "What's the bettin' we'll see either of em' again?" asked a man in the crowd. The odds were against it. "I fix heem all right," said Pete. XXIII It was Jenny who first wakened in the house on the hill, for she slept lightly as a young mother does. And yet when she woke, sleep was not wholly out of her eyes and mind, and it seemed to her that it was morning, and that Sam, her good Sam, was up betimes in the kitchen. She heard the fine crackling, at first a mere crepitation, of the crawling flame, and felt comfortable as one does at the notion of the good creature fire, the greatest servant of man. Deep in the hearts of men lies the love of it, for fire has served them through the innumerable generations of their rise from those who knew it not. A million ancestors of each have sat by brave flames in dark woodlands and have warmed themselves and found comfort in all the storms of the open world. For the house is the fire, the covering of the fire, and the hearth is the great altar, where a daily sacrifice is made to the gods. She fell asleep again. And then she smelt smoke and roused herself suddenly and saw a strange light outside in the darkness. The fire flickered like a serpent's tongue, and she saw it, and her heart went cold. For the servant becomes a tyrant, and the god is oftentimes cruel to his people. She clutched the child, and with her other hand caught hold of George. She cried to him aloud, and even before he was awake he stood upon the floor, knowing that some enemy was at hand. And even then the red enemy looked in at the window and there was the tinkle of broken glass. "Oh, this is Pete's work," he said. But he said it not aloud. "Get up, girl. Come, tenas," he cried. He opened the door and found the house full of smoke. Below, he heard the work of the fire. And the outer wall below the window was one flame. "This is Pete's work," he said. And he said to himself-- "What of the Mill?"