‘Yes,’ says the arrow polisher.

‘We encounter nothing but opposition and menace, even though we are working solely for the common good. We desire liberty for every living thing: a just liberty contributing to a similar core in us. And this core is simply the need for liberty and peace.’

His words strike deep into the arrow polisher. He is moved. It seems to him that they are alight with truth. It must be as this man says. He looks at him and his eyes seem to be dark with sorrow. Now he is talking again.

‘Our orders are only to serve the good.’

The arrow polisher concurs.

‘And we shall work for it until we drop,’ says the gilded official. ‘And if we drop others will work for it. For the good is the root of everything. The trouble is, there are so many here who pass themselves off as good.’

The arrows on him glitter. His eyes look as if they are filled with sorrow. The arrow polisher feels the same sorrow streaming through him. What kind of sorrow it is he does not yet know.

Then the gilded man suddenly nods in a friendly manner up at the ladder and says like a father, ‘You have understood what’s at stake at any rate. We rejoice over each person like yourself, whatever their rank.’

Goodness and warmth stream through the arrow polisher, as if something has been released. Listen, what is he saying?

‘You have decided to work on our side. Faithful in your simple task, and without thought of your own advancement.’

Yes, thinks the arrow polisher, deeply moved.

‘And that’s how it must be if our sacred cause is to win through to everyone. We need such an unselfish vanguard.’

The arrow polisher still says nothing: he is so moved by the thought of what he has done.

‘And you will not have supported us in vain. Any help you can give us shall be rewarded better than your wildest dreams. Nothing is too much for those who serve the good.’

The arrow polisher looks into the eyes in front of him. They are no longer dark with sorrow but shining with gratitude. The arrow polisher is grateful too, to himself, because he is standing at this outpost and has deserved such a great reward. Frank and Freda shall have everything I earn, he hastens to tell himself. Along with everything else, I have tried, after all, to be a good father to my children since I was left alone with them. How I wish their mother could see me – oh, what is it now?

He is interrupted by a sharp, metallic note that makes him cringe in bewilderment on his ladder.

‘But woe to him who works against us, who works against a sacred cause! Or even thinks of doing so. They know not what they do. It were better for them that a millstone were hanged about their necks and that they were drowned in the depths of the sea….’