Felix, the night after all this had been planned, went to bed, and fell fast asleep; but the butler, who had not yet stifled the voice of conscience, felt, in the silence of the night, so insupportably miserable, that, instead of going to rest, he stole softly into the pantry for a bottle of his mistress’ wine, and there drinking glass after glass, he stayed till he became so far intoxicated, that, though he contrived to find his way back to bed, he could by no means undress himself. Without any power of recollection, he flung himself upon the bed, leaving his candle half hanging out of the candlestick beside him. Franklin slept in the next room to him, and presently awaking, thought he perceived a strong smell of something burning. He jumped up, and seeing a light under the butler’s door, gently opened it, and to his astonishment, beheld one of the bed curtains in flames. He immediately ran to the butler, and pulled him with all his force, to rouse him from his lethargy. He came to his senses at length, but was so terrified, and so helpless, that, if it had not been for Franklin, the whole house would soon inevitably have been on fire. Felix, trembling and cowardly, knew not what to do; and it was curious to see him obeying Franklin, whose turn it now was to command. Franklin ran upstairs to awaken Mrs. Pomfret, whose terror of fire was so great that she came from her room almost out of her senses, whilst he, with the greatest presence of mind, recollected where he had seen two large tubs of water, which the maids had prepared the night before for their washing, and seizing the wet linen which had been left to soak, he threw them upon the flames. He exerted himself with so much good sense, that the fire was presently extinguished. Everything was now once more safe and quiet. Mrs. Pomfret, recovering from her fright, postponed all inquiries till the morning, and rejoiced that her mistress had not been awakened, whilst Corkscrew flattered himself that he should be able to conceal the true cause of the accident. “Don’t you tell Mrs. Pomfret where you found the candle when you came into the room,” said he to Franklin. “If she asks me, you know I must tell the truth,” replied he. “Must!” repeated Felix, sneeringly; “what, you _must_ be a tell-tale!” “No, I never told any tales of anybody, and I should be very sorry to get anyone into a scrape; but for all that I shall not tell a lie, either for myself or anybody else, let you call me what names you will.” “But if I were to give you something that you would like,” said Corkscrew—“something that I know you would like!” repeated Felix. “Nothing you can give me will do,” answered Franklin, steadily, “so it is useless to say any more about it—I hope I shall not be questioned.”