He was referring to the fresco of the "Ascension of St. John."
Inside, the lecturer's voice faltered, as well it might. The
audience shifted uneasily, and so did Lucy. She was sure that she
ought not to be with these men; but they had cast a spell over
her. They were so serious and so strange that she could not
remember how to behave.

"Now, did this happen, or didn't it? Yes or no?"

George replied:

"It happened like this, if it happened at all. I would rather go
up to heaven by myself than be pushed by cherubs; and if I got
there I should like my friends to lean out of it, just as they do
here."

"You will never go up," said his father. "You and I, dear boy,
will lie at peace in the earth that bore us, and our names will
disappear as surely as our work survives."

"Some of the people can only see the empty grave, not the saint,
whoever he is, going up. It did happen like that, if it happened
at all."

"Pardon me," said a frigid voice. "The chapel is somewhat small
for two parties. We will incommode you no longer."

The lecturer was a clergyman, and his audience must be also his
flock, for they held prayer-books as well as guide-books in their