such a mass as this a hurricane
would have been required!

It struck twelve from St. George's tower. The last stroke seemed
unable to die away. But the deep trembling murmur that hung on so long
was no longer the dying tone of the bell. For now it began to grow; as
if on a thousand wings it came rushing and surging and pushed angrily
against the houses that would retard it; whistling and shrieking, it
drove through every crevice that it met, and blustered about the house
until it found another rift to drive out of again; it tore shutters
open and slammed them furiously, it squeezed its way groaningly
between adjacent walls, whistled madly round street corners, lost
itself in a thousand currents, found itself again and rushed headlong
into a raging stream, careered up and down with savage joy, jolted
everything that stood fast, trilled with wild-playing fingers on the
rusty vanes and weather-cocks and laughed shrilly at their groans; it
blew the snow from one roof to another, swept it from the street,
chased it onto steep walls where it crouched with fear in all the
window chinks, and whirled great, dancing fir-trees of snow before it
in its mad course.

Seeing that a storm was imminent, no one had taken off his clothes.
The town and county storm night-watch, as well as the fire company,
had been gathered together for hours. Herr Nettenmair had sent his son
to the main guard-room in the town hall to represent him there as the
master-slater of the town. The two journeymen sat with the tower
watchman, one at St. George's, one at St. Nicholas'. The other
municipal workmen entertained one another in the guard-room as well as
they could. The building inspector looked anxiously at Apollonius,
who, feeling his friend's eye fixed upon him, rose, to conceal from
him if possible his brooding state of mind. At this very moment the
storm broke forth with renewed violence. From the town-hall tower it
struck one. The sound of the bell whimpered in the grip of the storm
which dragged it along in its wild chase. Apollonius stepped to the
window as if to see what was happening outside. A gigantic,
sulphur-blue tongue leaped into the room, sprang twice trembling upon
stove, wall and people, and then, leaving no trace, was swallowed up
in itself again. The tempest raged on: but, even as the storm had
seemed born out of the last sound of St. George's bell, there now
arose a something out of the raging which exceeded it in force as far
as