his wife. And it was strange that the big woods and the deep snows
played no part in them. He was back home. And Celie was with him.
Once they went for wildflowers and were caught in a thunderstorm,
and ran to an old and disused barn in the center of a field for
shelter. He could feel Celie trembling against him, and he was
stroking her hair as the thunder crashed over them and the
lightning filled her eyes with fear. After that there came to him
a vision of early autumn nights when they went corn-roasting, with
other young people. He had always been afflicted with a slight
nasal trouble, and smoke irritated him. It set him sneezing, and
kept him dodging about the fire, and Celie was laughing as the
smoke persisted in following him about, like a young scamp of a
boy bent on tormenting him. The smoke was unusually persistent on
this particular night, until at last the laughter went out of the
girl's face, and she ran into his arms and covered his eyes with
her soft hands. Restlessly he tossed in his bunk, and buried his
face in the blanket that answered for a pillow. The smoke reached
him; even there, and he sneezed chokingly. In that instant Celie's
face disappeared. He sneezed again--and awoke.

In that moment his dazed senses adjusted themselves. The cabin was
full of smoke. It partly blinded him, but through it he could see
tongues of fire shooting toward the ceiling. He heard then the
crackling of burning pitch--a dull and consuming roar, and with a
stifled cry he leaped from his bunk and stood on his feet. Dazed
by the smoke and flame, he saw that there was not the hundredth
part of a second to lose. Shouting Celie's name he ran to her
door, where the fire was already beginning to shut him out. His
first cry had awakened her and she was facing the lurid glow of
the flame as he rushed in. Almost before she could comprehend what