The church was full when Johannes, with the entire family, entered it. He and the others were in their best attire, and Van Lieverlee had on a very long black coat and a high hat. As he passed in he removed his hat respectfully, and his white face, now smoothly shaven, wore a serious, even stern, expression. It was cool and dark and solemn in the building. The rays of the sun, in passing through the window-glass, were tinged with yellow and blue, and cast queer fleckings over the faces and forms of those who stood waiting or were securing seats. The fragrance of incense floated about the altar, and the organ was playing. It was not really an old church, but, with its paintings and floral adornments, was beautiful enough to move Johannes to tenderness; for he felt so sad and disheartened, listening to the solemn music in that richly-colored twilight, that he had to make an effort to keep from sobbing. Father Canisius, smiling kindly, and with priestly seriousness in face and tread, although not yet in his robes, stopped on his way to the sacristy to speak with them. Johannes could feel his sharp, penetrating look through the thick glasses of his spectacles. "You see, Father," said the countess, "we have come to seek Jesus. Johannes, also." "He is waiting for you," replied the priest, solemnly, pointing out the great crucifix above the altar. Then he disappeared in the sacristy. Johannes immediately fastened his eyes upon that figure, and continued to contemplate it while the people were taking their places. It hung in the strongest light of the shadowy church. Apparently it was of wood stained a pale rose, with peculiar blue and brown shadows. The wounds in the side and under the thorns on the forehead were distinct to exaggeration--all purple and swollen, with great streaks of blood like dark-red sealing-wax. The face, with its closed eyes, wore a look of distress, and a large circle of gold and precious stones waggishly adorned the usual russet-colored, cork-screwy, woodeny locks. The cross itself was of shining gold, and each of its four extremities was ornamented, while a nice, wavy paper above the head bore the letters I.N.R.I. One could see that it was all brand-new, and freshly gilded and painted. Wreaths and bouquets of paper flowers embellished the altar. For a long time--perhaps a quarter of an hour--Johannes continued to look at the image. "That is Jesus," he muttered to himself, "He of whom I have so often heard. Now I am going to learn about Him, and He is to comfort me. He it is who has redeemed the world."