The echo of the pillars yelled the words after him.
The son of Joh Fredersen had never seen the man before. He knew, however, as soon as the flame-white face unveiled the black flames of its eyes to him: it was Desertus the monk, his father’s enemy....
Perhaps his breath had become too loud. Suddenly the black flame struck across at him. The monk arose slowly. He did not say a word. He stretched out his hand. The hand indicated the door.
“Why do you send me away, Desertus?” asked Freder. “Is not the house of your God open to all?”
“Hast thou come here to seek God?” asked the rough, hoarse voice of the monk.
Freder hesitated. He dropped his head.
“No.” He answered. But his heart knew better.
“If thou hast not come to seek God, then thou hast nothing to seek here,” said the monk.
Then Joh Fredersen’s son went.
He went out of the cathedral as one walking in his sleep. The daylight smote his eyes cruelly. Racked with weariness, worn out with grief, he walked down the steps, and aimlessly onwards.