were curiously neglected and isolated by
the fire, that seemed to have gone mad with its own lust. The eastern
slopes were a mass of smouldering ruins, not black, but the most
exquisite tints of violet, rose, chrome, gray, sepia, yellow. They
looked, with their arches and columns, towers and broken walls, like the
Roman Forum and the Palatine Hill on a colossal scale. About and through
them floated clouds of fine white ashes, ghostly restless dust of
unthinkable treasure.

Suddenly, hardly crediting her eyes, Isabel saw an automobile labor up
the steep acclivity, through that swirling furnace, and dart across
California Street and in the direction of Russian Hill. She knew that
Gwynne was in it, and a moment later Hofer discharged him at the foot of
the steps, then ran the car out Jackson Street at the top of its speed.

Gwynne walked up the steps and along the plank walk. Isabel recognized
him by his carriage, for he was as black as a coal-heaver and most of
his hair was burned off.

"I should like to wash first," he said, as he came up the house flight.
"The water will go with the rest."

"Of course. Do you want anything to eat."

"No, I had some sandwiches a while ago."

He went up to his room and Isabel awaited him in the farthest corner of
the living-room, where it may have been a trifle less hot and less noisy
than elsewhere.

He came down in a moment. "That was a close shave," he said. "We didn't
know what we were in for, and it was either go on and hope for better
luck at the top, or dive down into a very good imitation of a live
volcano."

He was recognizable, although his khaki clothes were black and burned,
and one side of his head made him look as if he had just been discharged
from a military hospital.

"I shall rest for a few moments and then go back," he said, throwing
himself into a chair opposite Isabel. "I never forgot you, but I made
sure Stone had delivered my message and that you were on the ranch. I
saw my mother and Miss Montgomery an hour ago. You must get out of this
at once."

"Tell me what you have been doing," said Isabel evasively.

"I have been alive," he said, intensely. "Never in all my days have I
found life so wonderful. Battle is nothing to it. For the best part of
two days I have been dodging the open jaws of death every minute; and
the sensation of pitting one's puny human strength and the accumulated
wit of several thousand years of varied civilization against an eleme