"Oh, dear, here you are at last! I've been in such a state about you. No, of course Chrystie's not here. I knew she wouldn't be. They say all the trains are stopped--the rails are twisted. How could she get back?" Lorry dropped on to the steps. She did not know till then how much she had hoped. Her head fell forward in the hollow of her chest, her hands clenched together in her lap. Aunt Ellen addressed the nape of her neck: "I don't know what's going to happen to us. I've just sat here all morning and heard one awful thing after another. Do you know that the whole Mission's burning and there's not a drop of water to put it out with? And if it crosses Market Street this side of the city'll burn too." Lorry did not answer and she went on: "The people are coming out of there by hundreds. A man told me--no, it was a woman. I didn't know her from Adam, but she hung over the gate like an old friend and talked and talked. They're coming out like rats; soldiers are poking them out with bayonets. All the soldiers are down there from the Presidio and Black Point. And lots of people are killed--the houses fell on them and caught them. It was a man told me that. He'd been down there and he was all black with smoke. I thought it was the end of the world and it might just as well have been. Thank goodness your father and mother aren't here to see it. And, _thank God_, Chrystie's safe in San Mateo!" Lorry raised her head in intolerable pain. "_Don't_, Aunt Ellen!" she groaned, and got up from the step. The old lady, seeing her face, cast aside the eiderdown, and rose in tottering consternation. "Oh, Lorry dear, you're faint. It's too much for you. Let's get a carriage and go--somewhere, anywhere, away from here." Lorry pushed away her helpless, shaking hands. "I'm all right, I'm all right," she said. "Sit down, Aunt Ellen. Leave me alone. I'm tired, I've walked a long way, that's all." Aunt Ellen could only drop back, feebly protesting, into her chair. If Lorry wanted to walk herself to death _she_ couldn't stop her--nobody minded what she said anyway. She sat hunched up in her wraps, murmurously grumbling, and when Fong brought out lunch on a tray, ordered a glass of wine for her niece. "I suppose she won't drink it," she said aggrievedly to Fong; "but whether she does or not I want the satisfaction of having you bring it." Lorry did drink it and ate a little of the lunch. When it was over she rose again and made ready to go. She said she wanted to look at the fire from some high place, see how near it was to Market Street. If it continued to make headway they might have to go further up town, and she'd be back and get them off.