Some of the boys had muttered their prayers into their pillows before sleep—Our Father, Hail Mary, the old rhythms. Others had not bothered at all. The school did not care which was which, so long as the lights went out at ten.

The night was cold. The radiators clanked and sighed like tired old men, and somewhere down the hall a boy coughed in his sleep, once, twice, then went quiet again.

Then footsteps. Bare feet on cold boards, careful and quick.

A figure moved between the beds—tall, in white robe pajamas that caught the moonlight. He stopped at one bed and stood over it a moment. Then he reached down and gave the sleeper's shoulder a firm shake.