I didn’t want to listen to her, so I left her. I went past Lynx’s room knowing he was not there. I felt again the great desire to get out of doors, to ride as far as I could from that smoke cloud on the horizon, to get the smell of smoke and fire out of my nostrils.

I went down to the stables and saddled Queen Anne.

She seemed uneasy as though aware of the danger. I talked to her soothingly.

“We’ll go for a ride out into the open air … where it’s fresh and clean and we can escape from this horrid smell.”

I rode for a mile or so but I could still smell the smoke. I pulled up and looked behind me. If anything the smoke seemed nearer.

I urged the Queen to a gallop and off we went. I forgot the fire and thought about the things Lynx had said to me on the previous night in his study and I wondered whether his plan would ever come to anything.

Stirling and I would marry—in England perhaps. I remembered the old Norman church with its grey stone walls and the graveyard with its crazy-looking tombstones, some of which were propped up against the wall, presumably because no one knew exactly where they belonged. Lynx would give me away in my white wedding-dress and Stirling and I would come down the aisle together while Lynx looked on with pride and gratification. The gates with their white ornamentations would be flung open and our carriage would go through, along the drive to the mansion.

And what of Minta? Poor Minta, she would be living in one of the cottages. Perhaps she would serve teas to the local people with little home-made cakes and scones with jam or honey. Lucie would help her.

How absurdly my mind ran on. I was like my father. I did not believe that Minta and her father—if he was still alive—would ever allow the house to be sold, no matter with what prizes the richest of golden millionaires tempted them.

I pulled up and looked over my shoulder. The smoke was thick now. I couldn’t understand it. I was riding away and yet I seemed to be coming nearer.

I realized that I had been foolish to leave the house. But I was not lost. I knew the direction which I had taken. Yet I could not understand why I seemed to be coming nearer to the smoke. The bush was deceptive. So much of it looked alike. But I had been to this spot before and I knew where I was.

Then suddenly I heard an echo.

“Cooee. Nora.”

I called back. It was Stirling.

I curved my hands about my mouth and shouted.

“Stirling … here.”

I saw him then. He came galloping towards me. He was white with anger.

“Nora … you fool!” he shouted.

“What do you mean?” I retorted sharply.

“Don’t you know better than to come out like this? My God, you could be caught. Don’t you understand what’s happening? Haven’t you learned anything?”

“I know there’s a fire somewhere.”

“A fire somewhere! Do you know that miles of bush land are ablaze. And you ride blithely out. Come on.”

He turned his horse and meekly I followed.

“You were mad,” he threw over his shoulder.

“I rode away from it. Is that madness?”

“How do you know where it will be next? In seconds you can be surrounded.”

“I should have remembered the warnings. Well, I know now.”

“You don’t. You don’t understand a thing about it. Can’t you imagine?

No. You have to risk your life before you understand. If they hadn’t seen you leave the stables I wouldn’t have known which direction you’d taken. “

“Am I always to be watched?” I remembered with horror that other occasion when I had been seen riding out and followed. I went on irritably: “Oh, do stop nagging, Stirling. I rode out. That’s that.

Here I am. All’s well and I’ll promise not to do it again. “

His mouth was sternly set and he looked remarkably like his father. We rode on in silence for some miles, then I said:

“Stirling, I didn’t know you could be so sullen. I’m learning. I must say if there’s one thing I dislike—’ I stopped because it was clear that he wasn’t listening. I had begun to cough and wherever I turned I saw clouds of smoke.

He pulled up suddenly.

“Which way?” I asked.

“I wish I knew.”

“Well, aren’t we going home?”

“I don’t know. It looks as though we may be cut off.”

“Cut off by …”

“By fire, you idiot!”

“How dare you talk to me like that!”

“Oh God,” he groaned.

“Listen, Nora. We’re in danger. We’re surrounded. Can’t you see that? I just don’t know which road to take.

Any could be disaster. “

I thought he was exaggerating to teach me a lesson until there was a loud explosion close to us and a grove of gum trees suddenly burst into flame.

“Come on,” said Stirling, and we galloped in the opposite direction.

But it was not long before he pulled up again. We were approaching a heavy pall of smoke.

“We’re cut off,” said Stirling tersely.

I stood there looking at him fearfully. I felt the smoke in my eyes and nostrils. I was frightened, yet comforted by Stirling’s presence.

I had a childish notion that if he were there everything would turn out right.

“I wonder,” he was saying to himself.

“There may be time. Come on.

Keep close to me. It’s worth a try. “

We galloped towards the smoke and suddenly he turned off the bush track and we rode into the bushes.

I heard him mutter: “It’s a chance. The only one. We’ll try it.”

A creek containing a very little water lay ahead of us. He dismounted, tore off his coat and asked for mine. I gave it to him.

“Well have to leave the horses,” he said.

“There’s nothing we can do for them. It’s just possible they’ll find their way.”

“Oh no, Stirling …”

“Do as I say. There’s just a faint chance of saving ourselves.”

He soaked our coats in the creek and ran to where a grey rock protruded above the creek. In front of this was a small aperture.

Stirling thrust the wet coats into my hands and kneeling frantically began to dig out the dirt with his hands. It was loose and soon he had made a hole. He signed me to crawl through it and by this time I knew I must obey unquestioningly.

To my surprise I was in a cave about the size of a small room. Almost immediately Stirling was beside me. He stuffed the wet coats into the aperture. We were in complete darkness.

“Nora.” His voice sounded hoarse with tension.

“I’m here, Stirling.”

Groping he found me and held me against him.

“Better lie down,” he said.

Lying there, we were silent for a second or so, then he said: “Nora, we’ll be lucky if we come out of here alive.”

I was silent, thinking: It’s my fault I was careless. What a lot I have to learn about this country where sudden death seems constantly to be lying in wait for the foolish and unwary.

“Oh Nora,” he said, ‘to think you came out here . to my country . for this. “

“It was my fault, Stirling.”

“No.” His voice was tender.

“It could happen anywhere. Who knows what’s happening at the house even now. The fire was getting closer.”

“But Lynx will know …” And then I thought of the house being surrounded by fire; I pictured its coming close, so fierce, so all-consuming that not even Lynx could hold it off. The thought of Lynx in danger made me forget that which threatened us. But I told myself he would know what to do. No harm could come to him. I realized then that I had learned to think of him as Stirling did: he was godlike, immortal.

Stirling was whispering: “I remembered this cave. An aboriginal family lived here. They came to work for my father, and the boy who was my age used to bring me here. It’s got to save us, Nora. It’s our only chance.”

I knew he was trying to comfort me. Outside, the fire was encircling us; soon the ground above us would be ablaze. How could we possibly survive?

In the darkness he seemed to read my thoughts.

“There is a chance,” he said.

“A slight one; but a chance.”

For the first time in my life I was close to death. I felt lightheaded, as though I were dreaming. Stirling and I would lie forever underground and this would be our grave, though no one would know it. I reached for his hand; it was as though it were on fire.

Everything seemed on fire for the heat was becoming unbearable.

His lips were close to my ear.

“The fire will be right above us presently,” he said.

“Soon, Stirling,” I answered.

“Very soon.”

We could hear the roar and crackle, the sudden explosion; and the acrid smell was creeping into the cave.

“If we can keep the smoke out,” said Stirling and paused.

“If not .. ” He didn’t go on. There was no need to. I understood. Our chances of survival were very small.

“Stirling,” I said, “I’m not sorry I came out here.”

He did not answer. We had moved away from each other because the heat was so great but we kept our fingers entwined. There was comfort for me in this; I wondered if he felt it too.

“Nora.” His voice seemed to come to me from a long way off.

“We loved you, Nora. It was different when you came.”

I was loved as I had been when my father was alive. But what did it matter now. He used the past tense as though we were already dead. It can’t be long now, I thought. I couldn’t die . not now that I had found my home and people to love me. I felt angry with fate which had made me suffer and then when I could be happy again to say: This is the end. Now your life is over.