HOW MR. SCHNACKENBERGER AND JUNO CONDUCT THEMSELVES WHEN THE HOUSE
BECOMES TOO HOT TO HOLD THEM.
Day was beginning to dawn, when a smoke, which forced its way through
the door, and which grew every instant thicker and more oppressive, a
second time summoned Mr. Schnackenberger from his bed. As he threw open
the door, such a volume of flames rolled in from the staircase--which
was already on fire from top to bottom--that he saw there was no time to
be lost: so he took his pipe, loaded it as quickly as possible, lighted
it from the flames of the staircase, began smoking, and then, drawing on
his pea-green coat and buckling on his sword, he put his head out of the
window to see if there were any means of escape. To leap right down upon
the pavement seemed too hazardous; and the most judicious course, it
struck him, would be to let himself down upon the Golden Sow, which was
at no great depth below his window, and from this station to give the
alarm. Even this, however, could not be reached without a leap: Mr.
Schnackenberger attempted it; and, by means of his great talents for
equilibristic exercises, he hit the mark so well, that he planted
himself in the very saddle, as it were, upon the back of this
respectable brute. Unluckily, however, there was no house opposite; and
Mrs. Sweetbread with her people slept at the back. Hence it was, that
for a very considerable space of time he was obliged to continue riding
the sign of the Golden Sow; whilst Juno, for whom he could not possibly
make room behind him, looked out of the window, and accompanied her
master's text of occasional clamours for assistance, with a very
appropriate commentary of howls.
Some Poles at length passed by: but, not understanding one word of
German--and seeing a man thus betimes in the morning mounted on the
golden sow, smoking very leisurely, and occasionally hallooing, as if
for his private amusement, they naturally took Mr. Schnackenberger for a
maniac: until, at length, the universal language of fire, which now
began to burst out of the window, threw some light upon the darkness of
their Polish understandings. Immediately they ran for assistance, which
about the same moment the alarm-bells began to summon.
However, the fire-engines arrived on the ground before the ladders:
these last were the particular objects of Mr. Jeremiah's wishes:
meantime, in default of those, and as the second best thing that could
happen, the engines played with such a well-directed stream of water
upon the window--upon the Golden Sow--and upon Mr. Jeremiah
Schnackenberger, that for one while they were severally rendered
tolerably fire-proof. When at length the ladders arrived, and the people
were on the point of applying them to the Golden Sow, he earnestly
begged that they would, first of all, attend to a case of more urgent
necessity: for himself, he was well mounted--as they saw; could assure
them that he was by no means in a combustible state; and, if they would
be so good as to be a little more parsimonious with their water, he
didn't care if he continued to pursue his morning's ride a little
longer. On the other hand, Juno at the window to the right was reduced
every moment to greater extremities, as was pretty plainly indicated by
the increasing violence of her howling.
But the people took it ill that they should be desired to rescue a
four-legged animal; and peremptorily refused.
'My good lads,' said the man upon the sow, 'for heaven's sake don't
delay any longer: one heaven, as Pfeffel observes, is over all good
creatures that are pilgrims on this earth--let their travelling coat
(which by the way is none of their own choosing) be what it may;--smooth
like yours and mine, or shaggy like Juno's.'
But all to no purpose: not Pfeffel himself _in propriâ personâ_ could
have converted them from the belief that to take any trouble about such
a brute was derogatory to the honour of the very respectable citizens of
B----.
However, when Mr. Jeremiah drew his purse-strings, and offered a golden
ducat to him that would render this service to his dog, instantly so
many were the competitors for the honour of delivering the excellent
pilgrim in the shaggy coat, that none of them would resign a ladder to
any of the rest: and thus, in this too violent zeal for her safety,
possibly Juno would have perished--but for a huge Brunswick sausage,
which, happening to go past in the mouth of a spaniel, violently
irritated the appetite of Juno, and gave her courage for the _salto
mortale_ down to the pavement.
'God bless my soul,' said Mr. Schnackenberger, to the men who stood
mourning over the golden soap-bubble that had just burst before their
eyes, 'what's to be done now?' and, without delay, he offered the ducat
to him that would instantly give chase to Juno, who had already given
chase to the sausage round the street corner, and would restore her to
him upon the spot. And such was the agitation of Mr. Schnackenberger's
mind, that for a few moments he seemed as if rising in his stirrups--and
on the point of clapping spurs to the Golden Sow for the purpose of
joining in the chase.