Yes, they know that the same things are nagging at them now as before; the same difficulties and inhuman demands, now as then.

Stig says, ‘I suppose you’re right. I’ve come with the same question. I must know whether anything has changed.’

‘How many people come here with that question, do you think? All kinds of people. Sometimes I have the feeling that nothing besides that question is ever talked about here.’

‘Surely we have the right to that too?’ says Stig.

The man with the austere face has the burden put squarely on his shoulders. They sit opposite one another in silence.

‘Well, has anything changed?’ asks Stig.

‘Not as far as I can see,’ answers his companion. ‘There seems to be only this one way.’

Stig gives his point of view: ‘That’s how we feel about it in the cellar. But I need to hear it from someone completely different as well.’

‘Is there any other point of view then ?’

‘Oh, I expect there is,’ replies Stig, and continues in order to test the other: ‘You seem to have aged in the short time since we last met.’

He says it without mercy, because he is equally harsh towards himself, and because he feels he has come to an end of being considerate. They are both struggling in the same darkness, and the tension or cracking in the house is becoming more strained and concentrated.

The reply sounds quite calm: ‘Yes, you look exhausted too.’

So they can sit there, each keeping his anxiety to himself. Stig starts thinking about all the people who must come through this door. He remembers the stricken mother who came the last time he was here. And he thinks of all the others who come to see this man and who must be wrestled with, and shown the way back.

‘But we are not to take part? Wasn’t that what you said?’ says Stig bitterly. He has risen to his feet and is on his way out again. He doesn’t want to admit it but it smarts. It was one of the reasons why he turned aside and came in just now.

The other replies, ‘I don’t know of course. But can you tell me who will be better suited to the new situation? We, or those who’ll face it whole and unused and full of faith?’

‘The way you put it tells me what your answer is,’ says Stig.

‘Was taking part in it important to you?’

‘Yes!’ says Stig, almost like a cry for help. The certainty that he will not take part in it is flooding over him. It lacerates him. He had not intended to let the other witness this outburst, but now it has come.

The clergyman is startled.

‘Is that how you feel? Last time you said you didn’t count on…’

‘No, we don’t,’ replies Stig harshly, interrupting him. ‘But one can wish, all the same. Good-bye.’

‘Good-bye. We shall have an opportunity to speak to each other again, I hope.’