ws. Where a sunbeam struck, it was felt as a burning torture.
Through the middle aisle three older workingmen came down with measured
steps. Behind every machine heads bobbed up to look after them. Then
the engineers approached and the heads vanished. Victor tended the idol
and waited for Hoeflinger.

When he came down the stairs, Pratteler counted his steps and listened
to their sound. He thought he noticed that Hoeflinger was afraid. That
filled him with radiant joy and with faith in his good conscience. The
victim knew that it was doomed. Everything seemed to clear of itself.
In the distance floated and beckoned the future of Spiele: that was the
prize. His imagination painted glowing pictures of her life and of her
heaven. His love became distorted like a cloud image and the adored
form of his sweetheart went under in the wild conflagration. He hoped
to see an angel rise from the flames; but at best it was a charred
corpse that awaited him.

Like a monster horse the idol neighed. Its swinging disk rang
and roared. Sparks flew about. That meant that the block was sawed
through and the claw would soon appear--empty. Hoeflinger was just
stepping to the floor. Pratteler hurried to him and grabbed his arm.
"Come--look--quick--" cried he, hoarse with excitement, and tried to
drag him along. Hoeflinger beat down his hand and stepped back. He
looked at him more attentively. Victor threw himself upon him; carried
away by his passion he began to pummel and shake and drag him about
without any sense. Hoeflinger's fist came down on his head, but still
without full intent. In Pratteler's soul all the long-suppressed rage
and wretchedness flared up. Like a cat he leaped at the long one's
neck, knocked him with his knees and twisted his feet about his legs to
bring him down to the floor. He struck at his eyes and under his chin
and tried to grab his throat. Hoeflinger was at a disadvantage, because
he did not act in temper and his defense was limited to a few straight
but honest blows. The claw withdrew empty and appeared once more. The
disk rang the bell and roared. The carts approached with their load and
returned with it. Victor no longer thought of his prize; he had
only in mind Hoeflinger's destruction. All means for that purpose
seemed justified to him. He did not even care, that he, too, would be
ruined--if only Hoeflinger were lying dead and in pieces behind the idol
and the world were delivered from him and would be free