Suddenly he was seized by a terrible despair. From behind, the crowd pressed him forward; and from the front, they stopped him from advancing. And now it was no longer newspapers that were falling, but flat white tiles, which, as they fell, stacked themselves into a tower reaching higher than his head, so that he could no longer see in front of him. Suddenly Gurdweill knew that the tiles were being thrown from the huge hospital, which the crowd had destroyed in order to build an even bigger one, since the old one did not have room for all the sick children. Just in time, reflected Gurdweill, since his own Martin was showing signs of illness; now he would be able to put him in the new hospital. But how was he going to carry all these tiles by himself? He felt that in another minute he would collapse under his burden: he simply would not have the strength left to go on. He looked imploringly from side to side, to the extent that the stack of tiles permitted, but nobody seemed to understand what he wanted. It did not occur to him to ask them for help in so many words. With the last of his strength he carried the box a few more steps, and then he let it go. And suddenly he saw that the street was completely empty, which did not surprise him in the least. The box stood at his feet, and it too was empty. Gurdweill remembered that he was tired, and was just about to sit down on the pavement, next to the box, when he changed his mind. Since the box was now empty, he could sit inside it and be sheltered from the wind! And so he did. At first he felt uncomfortable sitting in the box, which was not very large. He had to huddle up and fold his legs, one of which began to hurt, but after a moment he got used to it and even began to enjoy it. He sat and looked down the street, without seeing a soul. Oh yes, he recalled, today was a holiday — no wonder all the shops were shut! As he continued looking around him, he noticed something long lying on the pavement not far off.