aloud and explain it. It would give me a home-like feeling if I could
read in it now."

The Father replied: "I'll tell you something, my dear friend. The
Gospel is a very good book, not in vain is it called the glad tidings."

"My God! yes; what do I need more sorely now than glad tidings?" agreed
Konrad.

"Of course. But the book's not an easy one. Out of ten readers
there's hardly one who understands it. And even he doesn't really
understand it. It's too profound, I might say, too divine a book; as
they say, seven times sealed. Therefore it must be explained by
experts. I will willingly go through certain parts of it with you
occasionally, but I shall give you something else for your edification,
from which you will derive comfort and peace."

Konrad covered his face with his hands, and said, almost inaudibly:
"The Gospel is what I should have liked best."

And then the monk said gravely: "My friend, you are the sick man and I
am the physician. And the physician knows best what will do the sick
man good. You should also prepare yourself for taking the Sacrament."

As the poor sinner said no more, the priest spoke a few kind words and
left him. An hour later the gaoler brought him a parcel of books.
"The holy brother sends them so that you can amuse yourself a little."

Amusement! It was a cruel joke. Konrad gave a shrill laugh. It was
the laugh of a despairing man who cannot shut out the vision of his