And now he was evidently gaining ground, nearer and nearer, foot by foot, in an even, slanting line towards the balcony! Rough, surly men, who had been at enmity all their lives, had grasped each other's hands: women fell sobbing into one another's arms. A gentleman with close-cut grey hair and thick grey moustache, who had just arrived, breathless, from the village, stood close to the burning willows, almost touched by the flames, and followed the swimmer with fixed gaze, and fervent prayers and promises--that all, all should be forgiven and forgotten if he might only receive him back--his beloved, heroic son. Suddenly he gave a loud cry--a terrible cry--which the storm swallowed up, and rushed down to the bank where the men stood who had hold of the rope, calling to them to "Haul in, haul in!" It was too late. Shooting down the current came the great pine-tree, at the foot of which the swimmer had sat half an hour ago, torn up by the storm, hurled into the flood, whirled round by the eddying waters like some monster risen from the deep, now showing its mighty roots still grasping the stone, now lifting its head, now rising erect as it had once stood in the sunshine, and the next moment crashing down over the swimmer--upon him--then, with its head sunk in the foaming whirlpool and the roots raised above, it went out from the realm of light down into the dark night. Strangely enough, the slender cord had not been broken, and they drew him back--a dead man, at whose side, as he lay stretched on the bank, with only one broad, gaping wound upon his forehead, like a soldier who has met his death gallantly, the old man with the grey moustache knelt and kissed the dead lips of the beautiful pale mouth, and then rose to his feet. "Give me the rope now! He was my son! And my daughter is there!" It seemed insanity. They had seen how the young man had battled--but the old one! He threw off coat and waistcoat. He might be an old man--but he was still a strong man, with a broad powerful chest. "If you feel that you can't keep up, General, give us a signal in good time," said the Mayor. And now there happened what, to the people who in this one hour had seen such strange and terrible horrors, seemed a miracle. The blazing willow-stumps, which were burning now from the roots to the stiff branches, threw a light almost like day over the bank, the crowd, the stream, and the summer-house opposite--far into the flooded park up to the castle, whose windows here and there gave back a crimson reflection of the flames.