“Here in Salinas?”

“Here in Salinas.” Mr. Rolf leaned forward. “Aron, I can see your revulsion. You must get over that. Don’t forget our Lord and Mary Magdalene. Without pride I say I would be glad to raise her up.”

“What does she want here?” Aron demanded.

“Perhaps what we have to offer—salvation. It will require great tact. I can see how it will be. And mark my words—these people are timid. One day there will come a tap on my door and she will beg to come in. Then, Aron, I pray that I may be wise and patient. You must believe me—when that happens, when a lost soul seeks the light, it is the highest and most beautiful experience a priest can have. That’s what we are for, Aron. That’s what we are for.”

Mr. Rolf controlled his breathing with difficulty. “I pray God I may not fail,” he said.

[3]

Adam Trask thought of the war in terms of his own now dimly remembered campaign against the Indians. No one knew anything about huge and general war. Lee read European history, trying to discern from the filaments of the past some pattern of the future.

Liza Hamilton died with a pinched little smile on her mouth, and her cheekbones were shockingly high when the red was gone from them.

And Adam waited impatiently for Aron to bring news of his examinations. The massive gold watch lay under his handkerchiefs in the top drawer of his bureau, and he kept it wound and set and checked its accuracy against his own watch.

Lee had his instructions. On the evening of the day of the announcement he was to cook a turkey and bake a cake.

“We’ll want to make a party of it,” Adam said. “What would you think of champagne?”

“Very nice,” said Lee. “Did you ever read von Clausewitz?”

“Who is he?”

“Not very reassuring reading,” said Lee. “One bottle of champagne?”

“That’s enough. It’s just for toasts, you know. Makes a party of it.” It didn’t occur to Adam that Aron might fail.

One afternoon Aron came in and asked Lee, “Where’s father?”

“He’s shaving.”

“I won’t be in for dinner,” said Aron. In the bathroom he stood behind his father and spoke to the soap-faced image in the mirror. “Mr. Rolf asked me to have dinner at the rectory.”

Adam wiped his razor on a folded piece of toilet paper. “That’s nice,” he said.

“Can I get a bath?”

“I’ll be out of here in just a minute,” said Adam.

When Aron walked through the living room and said good night and went out, Cal and Adam looked after him. “He got into my cologne,” said Cal. “I can still smell him.”

“It must be quite a party,” Adam said.

“I don’t blame him for wanting to celebrate. That was a hard job.”

“Celebrate?”

“The exams. Didn’t he tell you? He passed them.”

“Oh, yes—the exams,” said Adam. “Yes, he told me. A fine job. I’m proud of him. I think I’ll get him a gold watch.”