Quietly, the man opened the door. He was the only one that entered into the parsonage, his boys all waited outside. When he entered the room, fear gripped him. The Reverend Father was already asleep. He tiptoed to his bedside to have a clearer view. The priest was indeed fast asleep. He resembled a dead man, he thought within himself. Just then, he heard noise coming from the window area. He quickly moved near the window to check what was happening. He raised the curtain slightly and discovered it was one of his boys, already dismantling the window by first removing the louvers. He motioned for him to stop. But the boy kept removing the louvers, but this time, he did it more quietly. As he made to turn back, he was faced by the nozzle of a gun. It was Father Willoughby. The noise at the window had awoken him. He had watched as the man briskly moved to that direction and the encounter with his boy outside and had used the opportunity to grab his gun under his pillow. ‘Jesus!’ he exclaimed. ‘You! Oh my god . . . !’
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