And with that the conversation is at an end. Stig did not manage to control himself as well as he ought to have done, and must go. He walks out into the dark side passage. At the end of it the arrows are glittering and pointing towards the centre. Someone is coming towards him, probably going in to see the man with all the burdens on his shoulders. There can seldom be any peace for him.

But he’ll stand firm, thinks Stig, somewhat at random.

But what about me?

I must just keep going, he tells himself. He is wrought up after his visit, upset about something he does not want to admit. It angers him that he did not control himself better. Now he’s sitting in there knowing how matters stand. The pain of being dropped by the wayside has been wrung out of him. He cannot blame anyone but himself for that.

He goes on wandering about in the darkest corridors on purpose, and comes to a place that he has heard mentioned but never seen. He only knows what it is. I’ll go in there! he says to himself brutally. I’ll see if it can be true.

He is standing beside a door like all the others. He knocks but nobody answers. He wrenches open the door. Nothing can stop him now. But the people he is looking for are naturally not behind the first door. There is merely a narrow passage and then another door. Stig knocks on that one and wrenches it open. Nothing there either. Merely another door. He knocks furiously on this door but there is no reply. Perhaps it is bolted? Not against Stig at any rate. Nothing can hide from his burning rage and sorrow. He gets the door open at once. All he has to do is to walk in to them through the dust and the darkness.

This is where they must be, behind the three heavy doors.

He gropes his way in. It is pitch dark, so much so that he might just as well have fallen straight into a pit or some other kind of trap. He might have discovered almost anything, but there is nothing besides sleeping figures. This is where they are lying. He cannot see them.

‘Put on the light!’ he yells brutally. ‘Don’t you understand I can’t see anything?’

His shout is raucous. He can hear that it is somehow unworthy of him. He never behaves like this normally. But, under the influence of this consuming sorrow, fury has taken the upper hand and he has given way to the temptation to attack them.

This is where they’re lying: deaf and blind and secure.

But now he is going to arouse them!

‘Put on the light!’ he yells, groping about him. He has not bumped into anything yet. The air seems staler than anywhere he has been before.

He can hear a kind of mumbling, and at last a light is switched on, giving barely sufficient illumination.