Convinced that I now had cause to doubt whether I was living among Christians or not, I told the priest all I’d seen and heard. I also confided in him what I was starting to think: that folk were mere mockers of Christ and his word, not Christians at all. ‘Please, please,’ I begged. ‘Help me shake off this dream. How should I think of my fellow men?’ The priest answered, ‘As Christians, of course, and you’d be wise not to call them anything else!’ ‘But how can they be?’ I wanted to know. ‘Whenever I point out what a mistake they’re making in opposing God’s will, I’m mocked and made fun of.’ ‘That shouldn’t surprise you,’ the priest said in reply. ‘If the earliest pious Christians, men and women who lived at the time of Christ (the apostles themselves, if you like), were put back on Earth today I believe they’d ask me the same question. And eventually, like you, they’d all be called fools. What you’ve seen and heard up to now is bad enough, but it’s nothing compared to what the world secretly (as well as openly, sometimes) hurls at both God and mankind. Don’t let that worry you, though. You’ll not find many Christians like the late Mr Samuel, your hermit friend.’
As we talked, large numbers of enemy prisoners were being led across the square. Our attention kept straying their way, which interfered with our conversation. It was then that I witnessed something so absurd I could never have dreamt it up: the latest fashion, evidently, in how to greet an old friend and wish him well. A soldier from our garrison, who’d previously served in a unit loyal to the Emperor, recognizing one of the prisoners, went up to him, took him by the hand, shook said hand with every sign of pleasure, and roared, ‘Brother, welcome back! You’ve been through a hailstorm (it was a saying at the time) and survived! Well, I’m damned! Fancy the devil bringing us together like this! Blow me down! I thought you’d bought it ages ago!’ To which the other replied, ‘As I live and breathe! Is it you, brother, or do my eyes deceive me? Hell’s bells! What brings you here? I never expected to see you again! I thought the devil would have got you by now!’ And as they parted, instead of a ‘God be with you!’, one said to the other, ‘Strength to your elbow, chum! Maybe we’ll meet again sometime. Then we’ll sink a few jugs together, eh?’
‘Hardly a pious way to greet an old friend, is it?’ I said to the priest. ‘Yet those were Christian wishes. You heard their hope of being reunited one day? But who’d have taken them for Christians or heard their exchange without being amazed? Why, if that’s how they greet each other in Christian affection, what will happen if they ever fall out? Oh father, if they are two of Christ’s lambs and you their appointed shepherd, surely your job is to lead them to better pastures than these?’ ‘You’re right, dear boy,’ the priest answered. ‘But they’re soldiers – they can’t help swearing, God have mercy on their souls. If I’d commented immediately, it would have been like preaching to pigeons. I’d have got nowhere. I’d only have attracted the dangerous hatred of two godless fellows.’ That made me think. I chatted with the priest a while longer before returning to wait on the governor. I had permission, you see, to go into the town at certain times and visit the priest. Having caught wind of my simple-mindedness, my master thought it might be good if I looked around a bit, heard things, and took instruction from others – or, as the saying goes, got my corners knocked off.