It often happened that during the prisoner’s composition and writing, a wider, softer light from the window spread through the cell, flickered over the wall, the floor, the table, and then rested for a space on the white paper.  And so light even entered the lonely room, but unspeakably more light entered the writer’s heart.

The gaoler saw little of the writing.  Directly he rattled his keys, it was hidden under the sheet—­just as children hide their treasures from intrusive eyes.  When five or six weeks had gone by, hundreds of written sheets lay there.

Konrad placed them in a cover and wrote on it

    I.N.R.I.

CHAPTER I

When darkness covers the world men look gladly towards the east.  There light dawns.  All lights come from out of the east.  And the races of men are said to have come hither from that quarter.  There is an ancient book, in which is written the beginning of things and of men.  The book came from the nation of the Jews, and the old Jews were called the people of God, for they recognised only one eternal God.  And great men and holy prophets arose in that nation.  The greatest of them was named Moses, and it is written that he it was who brought down to men the Ten Commandments.  But the Jews fell on evil times, they sank lower and lower and were heavily oppressed by stronger nations.  Like us, they suffered poverty and curses and despair, and this lasted for a thousand years and more.  Prophets appeared from time to time, and with words of mercy announced that a Saviour would come to lead the Jews into the kingdom of glory.  For that Saviour they waited many hundreds of years.  Oftentimes one would appear whom they took for Him, but they were deceived.  And when at last the real Saviour, the real, mighty Saviour appeared, they did not recognise Him.  For He was different from what they had imagined.

Shall I try to tell how it happened, just as my mother used to tell me, her little boy, the story on winter evenings?  Shall I recite it to myself like one who desires to wake himself at midnight before the Lord comes?  Shall I, who am without learning, search in my poor confused head for the fragments that have remained in it?  So much has been lost in the wear and tear of the world, and yet since it has grown so dark with me something flashes out, and shines forth on high, like some starry crown in the night!  Shall I invoke the holy figures that they may stand by me through the anguish of my last days, that they may surround me with their glad eternal light, and let no spirit of despair come near me?—­The path between the walls of this cruel fortress is narrow, and through it only a feeble light penetrates to me.

As God wills.  I am grateful for and content with the pale reflection of the sky that comes to me from the holy east through the cracks in the wall.  Oh, God, my Father, let glad tidings come to me from distant lands and far-off times, so that my simple heart can hold and understand them.  I am thirsty for God’s truth, and whatever shall strengthen, comfort, and save me, will be for me God’s truth.  Oh, thou pale light!  Art thou my mother’s heritage and blessing?  Oh, my mother!  From out the eternal dwelling speak to thy unhappy son—­oh, speak!