It’s no comfort, that thousands of children have to face it. He clenches his fists in misery. He can only assert the painful truth: thousands of children. He has a vision of their helpless white faces receding into the distance.

Stig shakes himself. No use dwelling on it. He must face up to it and come through. One has to harden oneself like this or everything will go wrong. Got to be tough! he tells himself as he walks along. He has experienced so much during this time and it has had its effect on him in many ways. The memories accompany him as he walks along into hiding. He recalls his experiences with the bitter certainty that he will never be the same again, the same as he was when he had had no need to harm another human being. But he does not think of his actions with regret: he and his companions must do this or that, that’s all there is to it. They must do it because the house is at war. Somewhere people are standing with staring eyes, above one of the innocent fallen, someone who was dragged in because he was standing too close. Someone will say in a hushed voice that the price of war is high….

Yes, this is where he lives….

Stig has passed a certain door, and hesitates. Better look in.

What’s my situation now? he says to himself. I must find out whether he looks at it in the same light. Whether things have changed for him.

‘What’s your view of it?’

‘It seems to me that we have no choice.’

But Stig has pondered a great deal on something he said later. ‘Perhaps we won’t be fit to take part in the new situation.’

What will he say now? Better talk to him again. Better see that face that I like so much.

When Stig enters he seems to see relief in the furrowed face.

‘Here you are at last! I’ve been expecting you.’

‘Is anything the matter?’ asks Stig quickly.

One must always expect something to be the matter, from whatever source it may come. It is second nature for such questions to come unbidden.

‘No, nothing’s the matter with me,’ answers the clergyman, replying from a different train of thought, ‘but something seems to be the matter with you?’

Stig shakes his head, even though some urge or longing has obviously driven him there.

‘I don’t believe you,’ says the clergyman almost sharply. ‘You never come to me unless there is something the matter.’

Stig can only feel ashamed, caught out in his weakness.

‘But you seemed glad to see me,’ he replies. ‘You said you’d been expecting me.’

‘Yes I have, because I knew this had to happen. But I can’t say I’ve been looking forward to it. I regard it as something unavoidable, which one looks forward to facing in order to have done with it again for a while. For I know so very well what you’re searching for.’