The man gasped and gasped again, filling his parched lungs with its
healing freshness. His companion uttered a strange, high laugh, and
dragged him forth into the open.

They emerged into a narrow alley, surrounded by tall houses. The night
was dark and wet. The rain pattered upon them as they staggered out into
a space that seemed deserted. The sudden quiet after the awful turmoil
they had just left was like the silence of death.

The man stood still and wiped the sweat in a dazed fashion from his
face. The little dancer reeled back against the wall, panting
desperately.

For a space neither moved. Then, terribly, the silence was rent by a
crash and the roar of flames. An awful redness leapt across the darkness
of the night, revealing each to each.

The dancer stood up suddenly and made an odd little gesture of
farewell; then, swiftly, to the man's amazement, turned back towards the
door through which they had burst but a few seconds before.

He stared for a moment--only a moment--not believing he saw aright, then
with a single stride he reached and roughly seized the small,
oddly-draped figure.

He heard a faint cry, and there ensued a sharp struggle against his
hold; but he pinioned the thin young arms without ceremony, gripping
them fast. In the awful, flickering glare above them his eyes shone
downwards, dominant, relentless.