would be impossible.  But the trouble was that the ladder was not hanging on the hook; he had hung it on a projecting tin oak-leaf which formed part of the roof’s decoration, near one of the rivets, and he had neglected to fasten the other end of the garland on which the ladder hung.  His weight was pulling on it now and dragging it and the ladder gradually down.  An inch more and the leaf would be horizontal, the ladder would slide off it and he and the ladder together would fall into the tremendous depth below.  His newly-acquired courage was to be put to the test.  Six inches from the leaf was the hook.  He took three cautious steps up the tottering ladder; then, seizing hold of the hook with his left hand and holding fast, he raised the ladder with his right hand from the leaf to the hook.  It hung securely.  He let go the hook and, holding fast to a rung of the ladder with both hands, stepped back onto it again.  And now the slates below the hole began to glow; it would not be long before the burning particles carried destruction far and near.  Apollonius drew his claw-hammer from his belt; a few strokes with the tool and the slate fell, splintering below.  Now he could see clearly the very small area of burning surface; his confidence increased.  He pressed twice on the hose and the sprinkler began to work.  First he held the nozzle toward the hole so that the lath-work above might be the better protected from the flame.  The sprinkler proved to be powerful; the water that penetrated beneath the edge of the slate shivered it into small bits.  The flames cracked and leaped angrily under the gushing water; only when the jet was turned directly upon them, and then more by means of its smothering power than its inherent qualities, did it finally vanquish them.

The surface of the fire lay black before him; there was no hissing in response to the jet from the hose.  Far below him the works of the clock rattled.  It struck two!  Two strokes!  Two!  And he stood and did not plunge headlong into space.  How different in reality from what his feverish forebodings had threatened!  In his brooding, waking dreams he had stood at the top of the tower, it had struck two, a great dizziness had come over him and dragged him down, to expiate a dark crime.  But now he stood there in reality, the ladder swayed in the storm, snowdust flurried about him, lightning darted around him, the sheet of snow on roofs, mountains and valley shimmered bright with each gleaming flash, it struck two below him, the tone of the bells, rent by the storm, wailed in the tumult, and he stood, stood free from all dizziness and did not fall.  He knew that no guilt was attached to him, he had done his duty where thousands would have failed, he had saved the town which he loved with all his soul, from a terrible danger.  But there was no vainglory in his heart, only a prayer of thanksgiving.  His thoughts were not of the people who would praise him, but of those who would breathe freely again, of the misery that had been prevented, of the happiness that would be preserved.  For the first time in many months he felt what it means to breathe freely.  This night had brought gladness to him.  With joy he looked back on the vow that he had made.  To men like Apollonius, the highest blessing of a good deed is that it gives courage for new good deeds.