Almost as preoccupied, Johnny observed, as Mr. Sheare. The minister mumbled throughout, and during the singing of the hymns he stood with eyes closed as if communing with the only Authority that had never failed him. To the Judge’s frank relief, Mr. Sheare dispensed with his sermon. Johnny found his thoughts wandering to the man in the cellar. Kowalczyk was probably a Roman Catholic, and if he was devout this imprisonment in the coalbin of a Low Protestant church during a sacred service must seem to him a cruel and unusual punishment. No Latin, strange-sounding hymns, a priest who dressed like other men … He dismissed Kowalczyk with an effort. After the service the Judge conferred with Ferriss Adams. Then he took Hube Hemus aside. He was talking earnestly to Elizabeth Sheare when Millie Pangman waddled over and hovered. “Yes, Millie, what is it?” “Your Sunday dinner’s goin’ to be awful late, Judge,” the farmer’s wife said timidly. “I’ve got my own family’s dinner to get, and what with everythin’ that’s happened and all—”
