She would stay with Joy.
"I don't see as we can do anything," she said, raising her head.
"Shall we be burned to death ?" shrieked Joy.

"Gypsy, Gypsy, shall we be burned to death ?" A huge, hot branch flew into the gully while she spoke, hissing as the other had done, into the pool.

The glare shot deeper and redder into the forest, and the great trees writhed in the flames like human things.
The two girls caught each other's hands.

To die--to die so horribly! One moment to be sitting there, well and strong, so full of warm, young life; the next to lie buried in a hideous tangle of fallen, flaming trunks, their bodies consuming to a little heap of ashes that the wind would blow away to-morrow morning; their souls--where?
"I wish I'd said my prayers every day," sobbed Joy, weakly.

"I wish I'd been a good girl!" "Let's say them now, Joy.