The cry “Nettenmair!  Where is Nettenmair?” greeted Apollonius on all sides and echoed in the distance.  The confidence of his fellow-citizens awakened in him a renewed sense of his own worth.  When, upon returning from afar, he had seen his native town stretched out before him, he had dedicated himself to her and her service.  The opportunity now presented itself to show whether he had meant this vow in earnest.  He reviewed in his mind all the possible forms of danger and how they could best be met.  A fire-sprinkler lay ready in the roof-truss, and cloths were at hand to dip into water and protect the places most in danger.  The journeyman had been instructed to have hot water ready.  The beams were connected everywhere by ladders.  For the first time since his return from Brambach he threw his whole soul into his work.  Before real necessity and its demands the visions of his brooding fancy receded like dissolving shadows.  All his old elasticity and buoyancy were [Illustration:  The Prophet Jeremiah] [Blank Page] called into being again, intensified by the feeling of relief which had taken possession of him.  Thoughts can be refuted by thoughts, against feelings they are a very weak weapon.  In vain had his spirit seen the way of salvation; he had fallen a victim to the general apathy about him.  Now a strong, healthful feeling sprang up in opposition to the strong, morbid ones and devoured them in the ardor of its flame.  He knew, without any special thought on the subject, that he had found the solution which brings redemption, and that this was the cause of his renewed being.  He knew that dizziness would not overcome him, but if he should remain it would be a sacrifice made to duty, not to guilt, and God and the gratitude of the town would assume in his stead the responsibility for his loved ones.

St. George’s Square was thronged with people who gazed in troubled fear at the roof of the tower.  The ancient building stood like a rock in the fierce battle which the brightness of lightning and the old night waged untiringly about it.  A thousand glowing arms embraced the tower with such ardor that it seemed as if it would be consumed in their glow; like a great surging sea the light broke upon its walls, only to fall back again before the power of night which engulfed all in its dark flood.  The mass of pale faces, pressed close together at the foot of the tower, flashed into view during momentary gleams of light but were soon lost again in dreary blackness.  The storm tore at their hats and coats, blew hair into their faces, struck them with flapping garments and pelted them with glistening drops of snow, as if it wanted to make them atone for the wounds it received when it beat as rain on the rocky ribs of the tower.  And as the people now appeared, now disappeared in alternating light and darkness, so also their confused attempts at conversation were drowned at every turn by storm and thunder.