THE MORNING WATCH
149
Name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Ghost, Richard
whispered rapidly to himself, moving his lips and closing his eyes
again. He crossed himself with care. There was a sound of arising
and departure and through his eyelashes he saw Knox Peyton com–
plete his genuflection and step ungainly between him and Jimmy,
trying to subdue the reproach and annoyance in his face. They
stayed where they knelt, all on their good manners before the one
empty bench, and Richard heard the whispered "go on" several times
before he realized that it was directed at him. Two worshipers glanced
unhappily behind them, shut their eyes, and tucked their chins down,
trying hard to pray. "I be damned
if
I will," Richard thought, and
caught himself; he shut his eyes tightly and in despairing shame
tucked his own chin down. "Go
on,"
he heard. He decided that he
ought to make a penance of it. Trying to look and to feel neither
humble nor proud he crossed himself, got up, genuflected, tiptoed to
the empty bench, genuflected, knelt, and crossed himself. Mr.
Bradford closed his eyes, frowned, and deeply bowed his head. Home
stretch, Richard said to himself, and quickly begged forgiveness for
an irreverence which had not been premeditated but spontaneous. But
wasn't it even worse to be so unaware of where you were that such
a thought could occur spontaneously? Mr. Bradford completed his
devotions and tiptoed toward the door, his eyes downcast. His effort
to stay within himself was too successful; Richard heard him bump
against one of the two boys, and his whispered accusing apology,
and their feckless and ill-subdued reply. Deaconess Spenser, at the
desk opposite
his
own, compressed her lips, crossed herself, got up,
genuflected, and stepped behind him; he could hear the harsh whisp–
ered reprimand whistling through her false teeth. He looked carefully
at his clasped hands, but he heard movement as the door was cleared
and along the side of his eye Jimmy advanced and swiftly established
himself at the newly empty bench and the Deaconess, her wattles a
violent red and her mouth pulled in tight, returned to her own bench,
genuflected, knelt, crossed herself, and sank her forehead into her
hands. Behind him somebody else stood up and he heard the knee
touch the floor and, knowing he ought not to, glanced back; it was
Hog Eye Kelsey, one of the littler boys from his own dormitory;
already Hobe was standing to replace him. Not Hog Eye, he told
himself;
he can't help it: Jeff.
