Julia clung to August and said something, but he could only see her lips move; her voice was drowned by the incessant roar of the thunder.

And then the hurricane struck them, and they half-ran and were half-carried down the rear slope of the hill.

Now they saw for the first time that the people were gone.

The instinct of self-preservation had proven stronger than their fanaticism, and a contagious panic had carried them into a hay-barn near by.
Not knowing where the rest had gone, August and Julia only thought of regaining the castle.

They found the path blocked by fallen trees, and it was slow and dangerous work, waiting for flashes of lightning to show them their road.