LXIII
I don't know just how much time passed after that. I felt a hand on
my shoulder, and realized that some one was shaking me. I had a
horror of hands reaching out for me, so I tried to get away from
this one; but it persisted, and there was a voice, saying, "You must
get up, my friend. It's time we closed. Are you ill?"
I raised my head; and first I glanced at the figure above the altar.
It was perfectly motionless; and--incredible as it may seem--there
was no trace of red paint upon either the face or the robes! The
figure was dignified and serene, with a halo of light about its
head--in short, it was the regulation stained glass figure that I
had gazed at through all my childhood.
"What is the matter?" asked the voice at my side; and I looked up,
and discovered the Reverend Mr. Simpkinson. He recognized me, and
cried: "Why, Billy! For heaven sake, what has happened?"
I was dazed, and put my hand to my jaw. I realized that my head was
aching, and that the place I touched was sore.
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