“Oh! my God! my God! will none even try to save him?” cried Henrietta, wringing her hands in extreme anguish.

Suddenly: 

“Pray for me, aunty!” exclaimed Jacquelina, and she darted like a bird toward the house, into the passage, and seemed lost in the smoke and flame!

Wrapping her woolen shawl closely about her, and keeping near the floor, she glided swiftly up the stairs, flight after flight, and through the suffocating passages, until she reached her uncle’s door.  It was open, and his room was clearer of smoke than any other, from the wind blowing through the open window.

There he lay in a deep sleep!  She sprang to the bedside, seized and shook the arm of the sleeper.

“Uncle! uncle! wake, for God’s sake, wake! the house is on fire!”

“Hum-m-m-e!” muttered the old man, giving a great heave and plunge, and turning over into a heavier sleep than before.

“Uncle! uncle!  You will be burned to death if you don’t wake up!” cried Jacquelina, shaking him violently.

“Humph!  Yes, Jacquelina! um—­um—­um—­Grim! um—­um—­Luckenough!” muttered the dreamer, flinging about his great arms.

“Luckenough is in flames!  Uncle! wake! wake!” she cried, shaking him frantically.

“Ah! ha! yes! d—­d little rascal is at her tricks again!” he said, laughing in his sleep.

At that moment there was the sound of a falling rafter in the adjoining room.  Every instant was worth a life, and there he lay in a sodden, hopeless sleep.

Suddenly Sans Souci ran to the ewer; it was empty.  There was no time to be lost! every second was invaluable!  He must be instantly roused, and Jacquelina was not fastidious as to the means in doing so!

Leaping upon the bolster behind his great, stupid head, she reached over, and, seizing the mass of his gray, grizzly beard, she pulled up the wrong way with all her might, until, roaring with pain, he started up in a fury, and, seeing her, exclaimed: 

“Oh! you abominable little vixen! is that you:  Do you dare!  Are you frantic, then?  Oh, you outrageous little dare-devil!  Won’t I send you to a mad-house, and have you put in a strait-jacket, till you know how to behave yourself!  You infernal little wretch, you!”

A sudden thought struck Sans Souci to move him by his affection for herself.

“Uncle, look around you!  The house is burning! if you do not rouse yourself and save your poor little ‘wretch,’ she must perish in the flames!”

This effectually brought him to his senses; he understood everything! he leaped from his bed, seized a blanket, enveloped her in it, raised her in his arms, and, forgetting gout, lameness, leg and all, bore her down the creaking, heated stairs, flight after flight, and through the burning passages out of the house in safety.

A shout of joy greeted the commodore as he appeared with Jacquelina in the yard.