"God will forgive me," the priest smiled and disappeared into the cabin.

The steamer moored to the pier. Father Pavel tied his things in a bundle and stood at the gangway. A few minutes later, the priest appeared. He was accompanied by another priest, who wore a pectoral cross on his chest. Squeezing through the crowd, both priests took a cab and drove into the city. Father Pavel followed them.

Chapter 2

A week passed. Father Pavel still could not muster up the courage to go with his request to the bishop. From the newspaper news he read that the new archpastor had already arrived and assumed the administration of the diocese. "What a man he is," thought Father Pavel with anxiety. - What if he does not accept, or will say: go, they say, to where you came from."

Finally, Father Paul had the idea of asking someone about the bishop beforehand. He remembered that in the city, somewhere on the outskirts, his former seminary friend, Father Gerasim, served as a priest. Should I find him and talk to him? Probably he knows something about the bishop. And, locking his room at the inn where he was staying, Father Pavel went to look for his former friend. Father Pavel was prevented from finding the priest who met him on the ship because of his natural shyness. - "True, he is affectionate, kind and humble," Father Pavel thought about Father, "he lifted my hat... and I thought he was some kind of proud man; And yet they are urban, as soon as you go to visit him, and even in such a form." Father Pavel looked sadly at his worn-out, rusty duckweed. It's better to go to Father Gerasim. After all, this one was once his own man.

It did not take long to look for Father Gerasim. As soon as Father Pavel came to the outskirts of the city, the first person he met, hearing the name of Father Gerasim, immediately pointed out the street and his apartment, and even kindly escorted him. Father Pavel noticed that the person he met once pronounced the name of Father Gerasim in a particularly loving way.

"Won't you be his parishioner?" He asked his guide, trying to guess the reasons for his respectful attitude towards Father Gerasim.

-No... I'm nobody... a flophouse... a hooligan, as we are called now, and only everyone here knows Father Gerasim. Please, there's his apartment... Good bye.

The "nochlezhnik" turned, and Father Pavel knocked on the door of the indicated apartment. He did not find the call.

- Пожалуйте, кто там? - послышалось из-за двери. - Толкните дверь посильней, она не заперта.

Отец Павел толкнул дверь и сразу очутился в ком нате. Быстро окинул ее взглядом и остановился в недоумении. Голые стены. Возле одной - кровать, возле другой - шкаф, сверху донизу наполненный какими-то склянками. Несколько деревянных стульев, и возле окна простой письменный стол, заваленный книгами. За столом, сильно сгорбившись, с книгой в руках сидел отец Герасим. Он очень похудел и постарел. Отец Павел не сразу узнал в нем своего бывшего товарища. Увидев вошедшего священника, отец Герасим поднялся и приветливо заговорил:

- Пожалуйте, пожалуйте, милости прошу садиться. Батюшки! Да никак Павлуша... Это ты, голубчик... Какими судьбами?

Отец Павел не сразу нашелся, что ответить. Товарищески обняв отца Герасима и трижды поцеловавшись с ним, он грузно опустился на стул и еще раз с недоумением осмотрел комнату. Глаза его чего-то искали.

- Ты что же это... Как это так... Что же это значит? - растерянно заговорил он наконец... - Неужели... - Отец Павел не докончил вопроса.