Could she have seen through the veils of smoke she would have seen a half dozen fires this side the line of the great fire.

But fire is fire.
Again he was in saddle and had her against his thigh, his body, flung any way so she came with the horse.

And now the horse swerved, till he drove in the steel again and again, heading him not away from the fire but straight into it! Molly felt a rush of hot air; surging, actual flame singed the ends of her hair.

She felt his hand again and again sweep over her skirts, wiping out the fire as it caught.

It was blackly hot, stifling--and then it was past! Before her lay a wide black world.