All his childhood had gone out of him, all his gleeful, careless,
sunny temper had gone with it; he spoke sullenly and wearily,
choking down the great sobs in his chest. To him it was as if the
end of the world had come.

His sister lingered by him while striving to persuade him to go to
his place in the little crowded bedchamber with Albrecht and Waldo
and Christof. But it was in vain. "I shall stay here," was all he
answered her. And he stayed--all the night long.

The lamps went out; the rats came and ran across the floor; as the
hours crept on through midnight and past, the cold intensified and
the air of the room grew like ice. August did not move; he lay
with his face downward on the golden and rainbow-hued pedestal of
the household treasure, which henceforth was to be cold
forevermore, an exiled thing in a foreign city, in a far-off land.

Whilst yet it was dark his three elder brothers came down the
stairs and let themselves out, each bearing his lantern and going
to his work in stone yard and timber yard and at the salt works.
They did not notice him; they did not know what had happened.

A little later his sister came down with a light in her hand to
make ready the house ere morning should break.

She stole up to him and laid her hand on his shoulder timidly.

"Dear August, you must be frozen. August, do look up! do speak!"