Портрет художника в юности

           Fourboyslefttheroom;andheheardotherspassingdownthecorridor.Atremulouschillblewroundhisheart,nostrongerthanalittlewind,andyet,listeningandsufferingsilently,heseemedtohavelaidanearagainstthemuscleofhisownheart,feelingitcloseandquail,listeningtotheflutterofitsventricles.

           Noescape.Hehadtoconfess,tospeakoutinwordswhathehaddoneandthought,sinaftersin.How?How?

           —Father,I.

           Thethoughtslidlikeacoldshiningrapierintohistenderflesh:confession.Butnotthereinthechapelofthecollege.Hewouldconfessall,everysinofdeedandthought,sincerely;butnotthereamonghisschoolcompanions.Farawayfromthereinsomedarkplacehewouldmurmurouthisownshame;andhebesoughtGodhumblynottobeoffendedwithhimifhedidnotdaretoconfessinthecollegechapelandinutterabjectionofspirithecravedforgivenessmutelyoftheboyishheartsabouthim.

           Timepassed.

           Hesatagaininthefrontbenchofthechapel.Thedaylightwithoutwasalreadyfailingand,asitfellslowlythroughthedullredblinds,itseemedthatthesunofthelastdaywasgoingdownandthatallsoulswerebeinggatheredforthejudgement.

           —IAMCASTAWAYFROMTHESIGHTOFTHINEEYES:wordstaken,mydearlittlebrothersinChrist,fromtheBookofPsalms,thirtiethchapter,twenty-thirdverse.InthenameoftheFatherandoftheSonandoftheHolyGhost.Amen.