He stood for a moment motionless, then he sat down on the wooden bench.
"Yes, my son," the monk continued.

"We will call the book, 'Glad Tidings,' I.N.R.I.

Glad tidings of a poor sinner.

That will suit the Gospel; that sounds well, does it not ?" He stopped and started: "Ferleitner, what is the matter ?" Conrad had fallen against the wall, his head sunk on his breast.

The breath rattled in his throat.