Chapter VIII. The East Window

           

           THATDiamondhadfallenfastasleepisveryevidentfromthestrangethingshenowfanciedastakingplace.Forhethoughtheheardasoundasofwhisperingupinthegreatwindow.Hetriedtoopenhiseyes,buthecouldnot.Andthewhisperingwentonandgrewlouderandlouder,untilhecouldheareverywordthatwassaid.HethoughtitwastheApostlestalkingabouthim.Buthecouldnotopenhiseyes.

           “Andhowcomeshetobelyingthere,St.Peter?”saidone.

           “IthinkIsawhimawhileagoupinthegallery,undertheNicodemuswindow.Perhapshehasfallendown.

           “Whatdoyouthink,St.Matthew?”

           “Idon’tthinkhecouldhavecrepthereafterfallingfromsuchaheight.Hemusthavebeenkilled.”

           “Whatarewetodowithhim?Wecan’tleavehimlyingthere.Andwecouldnotmakehimcomfortableuphereinthewindow:it’srathercrowdedalready.Whatdoyousay,St.Thomas?”

           “Let’sgodownandlookathim.”

           Therecamearustling,andachinking,forsometime,andthentherewasasilence,andDiamondfeltsomehowthatalltheApostleswerestandingroundhimandlookingdownonhim.Andstillhecouldnotopenhiseyes.

           “Whatisthematterwithhim,St.Luke?”askedone.

           “There’snothingthematterwithhim,”answeredSt.Luke,whomusthavejoinedthecompanyoftheApostlesfromthenextwindow,onewouldthink.“He’sinasoundsleep.”

           “Ihaveit,”criedanother.“ThisisoneofNorthWind’stricks.Shehascaughthimupanddroppedhimatourdoor,likeawitheredleaforafoundlingbaby.Idon’tunderstandthatwoman’sconduct,Imustsay.

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