Grace looked around wildly.
"Yes, yes! She must be! Oh, Frank—"
But Frank was gone, even while she spoke, into the burning house. There was still time. The lower hall and stairway were still free from fire, only filled with smoke.
He rushed through, and upstairs; in the second hall the smoke was suffocating, and the burning brands were falling from the blazing roof. Up the second flight of stairs he flew blinded, choked, singed. He knew Eeny's room; the door was unlocked, and he rushed in. The smoke or fire had not penetrated here yet, and on the bed the girl lay fast asleep, undisturbed by all the uproar around her.
To muffle her from head to foot in a blanket, snatch her up and fly out of the room, was but the work of a few seconds. The rushing smoke blinded and suffocated him, but he darted down the staircases as if his feet were winged. Huge cinders and burning flakes were falling in a fiery shower around him, but still he rushed blindly on. The lower hall was gained, a breeze of the blessed cold air blew on his face.
They were seen, they were saved, and a wild cheer arose from the breathless multitude. Just at that instant, with his foot on the threshold, an avalanche of fire seemed to fall on his head from the burning roof.
Another cry, this time a cry of wild horror arose from the crowd; he reeled, staggered like a drunken man; some one caught Eeny out of his arms as he fell to the ground.