They reached the outskirts of the town without accident and ran into the stream of horror-stricken humanity that was pouring now toward New York.
A great murmur of mingled anguish, rage and despair rolled heavenward. It seemed a part of the leaping flames and red billowing smoke of the burning city behind them.
Lost children were crying for their parents and trudging hopelessly on with the crowd.
A farmer with a horrible wound across his forehead was pushing a wheelbarrow bearing his mangled child. Beside the body sat a little three-year-old girl clutching a blood-smeared doll.
A big automobile came shrieking through this crowd of misery. Beside the chauffeur sat an officer in glittering uniform, behind two soldiers, their bayonets flashing in the glare of the conflagration. In the rear seat alone, in magnificent uniform with gold epaulets and cords, sat the Governor-General of the fallen nation.
Waldron saw Virginia with a look of surprise and rage and lifted his hand. The car stopped instantly. The guard sprang out and opened the door of the tonneau.
“Quick!” Virginia whispered. “He has seen me. He will recognize you--run for your life!”
“I’ll not leave you to that beast’s mercy--”
“Run--run I tell you, if you love me!” she cried in agony. “I can take care of myself now. I’ll manage Waldron--and I know how to die!”
With sudden resolution, she tore from his grasp and rushed to meet her rescuer.
Vassar no longer hesitated. She had made it impossible for him to linger a moment. He leaped the fence and disappeared in the shadows.
Waldron grasped Virginia’s hand in genuine surprise and distress.
“My dear Miss Holland,” he said with a touch of royal condescension, “what does this mean?”
“The brute who ran had seized and dragged me from the lawn and through the streets.”
“I’m proud and happy in this chance to prove to you my devotion. You have treated me cruelly. I show you tonight my generosity.”
With a lordly bow he handed her into the car and ordered his chauffeur to drive down the turnpike toward the Holland house.
The home was in flames. The Colonel had fired it in revenge for the death of his Lieutenant and sought new headquarters for the night.
Virginia found her mother, Zonia, Marya--with old Peter nearby holding Billy in his lap--standing in dazed horror watching the flames leap and roar and crackle.