The Missing Bride. Emma Dorothy Eliza Nevitte Southworth

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.

      But heeding nothing but the burden he bore in his arms, the old sailor strode on until he reached a convenient spot, where he threw the blanket off her face to give her air.

      She had fainted—the terror and excitement had been too great—the reaction was too powerful—it had overwhelmed her, and she lay insensible across his arms, her fair head hanging back, her white garments streaming in the air, her golden locks floating, her witching eyes closed, and her blue lips apart and rigid on her glistening teeth—so she lay like dead Cordelia in the arms of old Lear.

      Henrietta and Mrs. L'Oiseau, followed by all the household, crowded around them with water, the only restorative at hand.

      At length she recovered and looked up, a little bewildered, but soon memory and understanding returned and, gazing at her uncle, she suddenly threw her arms around his neck and burst into tears.

      She was then carried away into one of the best negro quarters and laid upon a bed, and attended by her mother and her maid Maria.

      The commodore, with his wife, found shelter in another quarter. And the few remaining members of the household were accommodated in a similar manner elsewhere.

      It was near noon before they were all ready to set forth from the scene of disaster, and it was the middle of the afternoon when they found themselves temporarily settled at the little hotel at Benedict in the very apartments formerly occupied by Edith and Marian.

      Here Jacquelina suffered a long and severe spell of illness, during which her bright hair was cut off.

      And here beautiful Marian came, with her gift of tender nursing, and devoted herself day and night to the service of the young invalid. And all the leisure time she found while sitting by the sick bed she busily employed in making up clothing for the almost denuded family. And never had the dear girl's nimble fingers flown so fast or so willingly.

      Every day the commodore, accompanied by Dr. Grimshaw, rode over to Luckenough to superintend the labors of the workmen in pulling down and clearing away the ruins of the old mansion and preparing the site for a new building.

      Six weeks passed and brought the first of August, before Jacquelina was able to sit up, and then the physicians recommended change of air and the waters of Bentley Springs for the re-establishment of her health.

      During her illness, Jacquelina had become passionately attached to Marian, as all persons did who came under the daily influence of the beautiful girl. Dr. Grimshaw was to accompany the family to Bentley. Jacquelina insisted that Marian should be asked to make one of the party. Accordingly, the commodore and Mrs. Waugh, nothing loth, invited and pressed the kind maiden to go with them. But Marian declined the journey, and Commodore Waugh, with his wife, his niece and his Grim set out in the family carriage for Bentley Springs. Jacquelina rapidly regained health and rushed again to her mad breaks. After a stormy scene with the commodore, the latter vowed she should either marry Dr. Grimshaw or be sent to a nunnery. To the convent of St. Serena she went, but within a week she was home in disgrace.

CHAPTER IX.

       Table of Contents

      CLIPPING A BIRD'S WINGS.

      The clouds were fast gathering over poor San Souci's heavens.

      The commodore had quite recovered for the time being, and he began to urge the marriage of his niece with his favorite. Dr. Grimshaw's importunities were also becoming very tiresome. They were no longer a jest. She could no longer divert herself with them. She felt them as a real persecution, and expressed herself accordingly. To Grim she said:

      "Once I used to laugh at you. But now I do hate you more than anything in the universe! And I wish—I do wish that you were in heaven! for I do detest the very sight of you—there!"

      And to the commodore's furious threats she would answer:

      "Uncle, the time has passed by centuries ago for forcing girls into wedlock, thanks be to Christianity and civilization. You can't force me to have Grim, and you had as well give up the wicked purpose," or words to that effect.

      One day when she had said something of the sort, the commodore answered, cruelly:

      "Very well, miss! I force no one, please to understand! But I afford my protection and support only upon certain conditions, and withdraw them when those conditions are not fulfilled! Neither you nor your mother had any legal claim upon me. I was not in any way bound to feed and clothe and house you for so many years. I did it with the tacit understanding that you were to marry to please me, and all your life you have understood, as well as any of us, that you were to wed Dr. Grimshaw."

      "If such an understanding existed, it was without my consent, and was originated in my infancy, and I do not feel and I will not be in the least degree bound by it! For the expense of my support and education, uncle! I am truly sorry that you risked it upon the hazardous chance of my liking or disliking the man of your choice! But as I had no hand in your venture, I do not feel the least responsible for your losses. Yours is the fate of a gambler in human hearts who has staked and lost—that is the worst!"

      "And by all the fiends in fire, Minion! you shall find that it is not the worst. I know how to make you knuckle under, and I shall do it!" exclaimed the commodore in a rage, as he rose up and strode off toward the room occupied by Mary L'Oiseau. Without the ceremony of knocking, he burst the door open with one blow of his foot, and entered where the poor, feverish, frightened creature was lying down to take a nap. Throwing himself into a chair by her bedside, he commenced a furious attack upon the trembling invalid. He recounted, with much exaggeration, the scene that had just transpired between