cond a singer.

CHAPTER VI.

UNHAPPINESS.

Night succeeded the joyful evening, and the members of the Frank family
lay deep in the arms of sleep, when suddenly, at the hour of midnight,
they were awoke by the fearful cry of "Fire! fire!"

The house was on fire, and smoke and flames met them at every turn; for
the conflagration spread with incredible speed. An inconceivable
confusion succeeded: one sought for another; one called on another;
mother and children, inmates and domestics!

Only half-dressed, and without having saved the least thing, the
inhabitants of the house assembled themselves in the market-place, where
an innumerable crowd of people streamed together, and began to work the
fire-engines; whilst church bells tolled violently, and the alarm-drums
were beaten wildly and dully up and down the streets. Henrik dragged
with him the young Baron L----, who was speechless, and much injured by
the fire.

The mother cast a wild searching look around among her children, and
suddenly exclaiming "Gabriele!" threw herself with a thrilling cry of
anguish into the burning house. A circle of people hastily surrounded
the daughters, in order to prevent their following her, and at the same
moment two men broke forth from them, and hastened with the speed of
lightning after her. The one was her beautiful, now more than ever
beautiful, son. The other resembled one of the Cyclops, as art has
represented them at work in their subterranean smithies, excepting that
he had two eyes, which in this moment flashed forth flames, as if
bidding defiance to those with which he was about to combat. Both
vanished amid the conflagration.

A moment's silence ensued: the alarm-drum ceased to beat; the people
scarcely breathed; the daughters wrung their hands silently, and the
fire-bell called anxiously to the ineffectual engine-showers, for the
flames rose higher and higher.

All at once a shout was sent from the mass of the people; all hearts
beat joyfully, for the mother was borne in the arms of her son from amid
the flames, which stretched forth their hissing tongues towards
her!--and--now another shout of exultation! The modern Cyclop, in one
word the Assessor, stood in a window of the second story, and, amid the
whirlwind of smoke, was seen a white form, which he pressed to his
bosom. A ladder was quickly raised, and Jeremias Munter, blackened and
singed, but nevertheless happy, laid the fainting but unhurt Gabriele in