meantime a prominent man had begun to take up a collection in the market-place.  Money, of course, could not reward such a deed as had been performed that day; but at least they could show their gratitude to the courageous doer.  Carried away by the impulse of the moment, acknowledged misers hastened home to fetch their contribution, regardless of the fact that in an hour they would regret having done so.  Not many of the well-to-do refused to contribute, all the poor gave their share.  The collector was astonished at the rich success of his efforts.

Apollonius rested for half an hour.  Before he lay down he saw that the lanterns were carefully put out.  He closed the door, and had the sprinkler emptied and the hose brought into the watchman’s room so that the frost could do no harm to them.  He was able to stand no longer.  The councilman, who had come to him in the meantime, had to compel him almost with force, to go down to the watchman’s room.  His friend then bolted the door, made Apollonius take off his frozen clothes, and sat down like a mother at his bedside.  Apollonius could not sleep, but the old man did not allow him to speak.  He had brought rum and sugar with him, and there was hot water enough; but Apollonius, who had never drunk anything strong, declined the grog with thanks.  In the meantime the workman had brought clothes.  Apollonius assured them that he felt perfectly himself again but that he felt a hesitancy about getting out of bed.  Laughingly the old man gave him his clothes.  Apollonius had undressed under the bedclothes and in the same way he now dressed beneath them.  The councilman turned his back to him and looked laughingly out of the window at storm and lightning; whether his smiles were over Apollonius’ bashfulness or from pure joy at having his favorite again he did not know.  He had often regretted having remained a bachelor, now he was almost glad.  He had a son at any rate, and as good a one as a father could wish.

Trouble now began for Apollonius.  He was torn from arm to arm; even women of prominence kissed and embraced him.  His hands were so shaken and squeezed that for three days he had no feeling in them.  He did not lose, however, his naturally noble bearing.  His modest, blushing embarrassment in the face of so much enthusiastic thanks and admiring praise, became him as well as his brave, determined conduct in time of danger.  Those who did not already know him were amazed; they had formed a very different conception of him:  dark, bold-eyed, audacious, overflowing with spirits, in fact almost wild.  Still they had to acknowledge that his appearance was not at variance with his deed.  His maidenly blushes lent an added charm to the tall manly figure, and the modest embarrassment of his honest face, which seemed in no way to realize what he had done, was very winning; his gentle thoughtfulness and quiet simplicity placed his achievement in a still more pleasing light, for it was plainly to be seen that vanity and ambition had played no part in it.