Oh, the long, fearful minutes! A horrid glare lit up the blackness of the night, and nearer, nearer crept the crackling flames! O Christ! will no one come to rescue us, will not the clouds in mercy pour down their treasures to stop this demon flame! But no! The rain had ceased, and on, on, steadily on came the frightful scorching flames. It was now as light as day. In the red glare I could see black figures moving swiftly, men running wildly about and desperately pulling and tearing at the splintered sides of the car. But oh, how feeble all their efforts! How utterly futile seemed all human strength to cope with these frightful forces that held us relentlessly in their grasp! “Well, it will soon be over, soon be over,” I groaned to myself. “The torture shall not be long if with my free hand I can get a quicker death,” I resolved in the desperation of my agony. It seemed hours to us wretches lying there ’twixt hell and heaven, but I suppose it was only minutes. Then there was a cracking, a breaking. An iron crowbar in the hands of a man had broken through the débris and was lifting the frightful weight from my arm. I could see his face distinctly, as with the giant strength of a madman, but with the clear eye of one who was a born general, he marshaled his panic-stricken followers and bade them aid him. “Here, Jim,” he shouted hoarsely, his voice rising above the roar of the flames, “hold on there! Now you and Tom and the rest, _pull!—pull as you never pulled before_!” But it was all in vain; as well try to lift a mountain. “Take this child,” groaned a muffled voice at my side, and as the strong arms of the stranger lifted little Hans limp and lifeless, and hastily laid him in the soft dark mud behind him, I saw for the first time Mildred’s white face beside me. “There ain’t no use, boss,” cried the men in a frenzy, and stopping to wring their hands. “We can’t do nothing; _they’ve got to burn alive_!” “Then for God’s sake give me your pistol or your knife!” I cried fiercely. “Yes, Mildred,” I protested, “it’s right, it’s right. If we must die, let it be quickly, and not by inches.” But Mildred did not hear. She was looking at the stranger with wild, staring eyes, and for an instant, as if paralyzed, he gazed at her. Then a look of such agony as I never saw on a human face convulsed his features, and he cried, “_Boys, once more! I must save this woman!_” and while they stood wringing helpless hands, he, with knotted veins and starting eyes, made one herculean effort, and Mildred was in his arms and free. I saw them stagger and fall together, while the bright blood in a crimson torrent poured from his lips and dyed her white, clinging hands. Then I knew nothing more. I have a vague recollection of a roar as of Niagara filling my ears, a sense of being torn limb from limb, a shuddering thought that this indeed was death and the end had come—and then blackness.