be heard above the storm and the uninterrupted rolling of the thunder.  He seized the tube of the shorter hose, the lower end of which the carpenter had screwed onto the sprinkler, and wound the upper part around his body.  “When I pull twice on the hose start the sprinkler; we’ll save the church and perhaps the town.”  With his right hand propped against the lath-work he swung himself out of the door; in his left hand he held the light roof-ladder which he wanted to hang on the next hook above the door.  This seemed impossible to the workmen.  The storm would certainly tear the ladder down, and all too possibly the man with it.  It came in well for Apollonius that the wind pressed the ladder against the surface of the roof.  There was plenty of light by which to find the hook; but the fine snow which flurried about and, rolling down from the roof, struck him in the eyes, was a hindrance.  He could feel, however, that the ladder hung securely.  There was no time to lose; he swung himself up on it.  He had to trust more to the strength and sureness of his arms and hands than to a secure footing as he climbed upward, for the storm swayed man and ladder to and fro like a bell.  Above, to one side of the topmost rung of the ladder, blue flames with yellow points leaped forth from under the gap and licked the edges of the slate roof.  The lightning had struck two feet below the point where the sheet of lead was lacking.  A short hour ago he had been frightened by the thought of the mere possibility that the lightning could strike there and that he would have to climb up—­a series of dark, deadly fever visions had risen before him:  now, all had happened as he had pictured it—­but the gap was like any other part of the tower-roof and he stood on the ladder, free from all dizziness, pervaded only by a keen, strong desire to avert impending danger from church and town.  Yes, something that had enhanced his vague fears now proved to be of distinct advantage to him.  The water which had been pouring into the hole for weeks, and which was now frozen in the wood, prevented the flame from obtaining the upper hand as quickly as it would otherwise have done.  The area taken possession of by the fire up to the present time was small.  The frost in the boarding had stubbornly beat back the leaping, ever-returning flames and it would take time before they could permanently strike root and from their vantage point do further destruction.  If they had united in one big flame and overstepped the space below the hole protected by the frost, the fire would soon have grown to gigantic proportions and the church, perhaps the town, have succumbed to the combined force of fire and storm.  He saw that there was still time to save, and he needed the strength that this thought gave.  The ladder not only swung backward and forward, it moved up and down.  What could be the cause of that?  If the beams of the roof were loose—­but he knew that that was not the case—­this movement