conscious that he was the chief of the house, he said, "A fire has broken out in the building-yard. You, Morten, go and get the two engines from the warehouse. The keys are hanging in the men's bedroom. Take the fire-buckets with you."
Morten dashed off.
"Dick, you must go up to the second floor in the same building. There's a large sail there; put it in the sea, and stretch it over the roof of the storehouse. You understand? The storehouse must be saved, or else"
Uncle Richard was already out of the door with Anders Begmand.
"Gabriel! you run up to the farm! Gabriel!" cried the Consul. But there was no Gabriel to be seen; he had already vanished through another door.
"Oh! what a wretched boy it is!" said the young Consul, in spite of himself.
There was something uncanny about the black smoke, and the dark red flame, which seemed every moment to get a surer foothold, and to gather strength without a soul to oppose them. Gabriel noticed nothing: he saw only the red glare on the ship, which loomed against the dark grey sky, and off he ran like a madman over the field above the house. When he saw the ship was in danger, Tom Robson was his first and only thought, and he went straight into the house where he was so well known.
"Mr. Robson! Tom! Tom!" he shouted into the dark room, which smelt like an old rum-cask. "She's on fire, Tom! The ship's on fire!"
