"With me?" Franz said bewilderedly. "You," Anton said.
Franz protested, "But—I cannot talk with the Prior!"
"I fear you have no choice, little Franz," Anton told him. "The Prior awaits in the refectory."
Franz asked fearfully, "What does he want, Anton?"
"That you must discover for yourself," Anton replied.
Franz pleaded, "Go with me, Anton!"
"Yes," Anton said quietly, "I will go with you."
Franz put on his skis and, with Caesar trailing, they went to the refectory. The boy's head reeled. His heart fluttered like the wings of a trapped bird. At the entrance to the refectory, he could go no farther.
"Come, little Franz," Anton urged gently.
"Y-yes, Anton." Franz shivered.