Ch. 1
Ch. 2
Ch. 3
Ch. 4
Ch. 5
Ch. 6
Ch. 7
Ch. 8
Ch. 9
Ch. 10
Ch. 11
Ch. 12
Ch. 13
Ch. 14
Ch. 15
Ch. 16
Style: Serif Sans

For His Name’s Sake

Chapter Three

“Oh, come, daughter,” said the Roptoh, “don’t scorn this stranger, now you can see how clever and useful he is.”

“I expect you paid him well.”

“I paid his team, but he refused.  Said all he wanted was your esteem.  He did it for love of you, you know.”

“For love of the throne, you mean.”

“But the throne goes to Feor.  He knows that.”

“Father, you graciously permitted me to refuse honourable princes from our own world.  Please do not oblige me to accept this stranger.  We do not know his parentage or any of his family.”

“Very well, daughter,” he replied coldly.  Shimei’s heart ached.

Foquar did not come near her, but cast longing glances at her from across the table.  Whenever she took her berra out for a ride, someone would remind her on her return that the city smelt far less these days.  Feor would tell her enthusiastically about all the new knowledge in which Foquar instructed him each day.

“Foquar does not smile so often these days,” her mother said.

“He repels me, Mother - I cannot trust him - I can’t stand him near me.”

“Is it because he is a stranger?”

“Mother, can you have forgotten?”

“What, Shimei?” she asked innocently.

“Wysau, Chalata and their team?”


“The strangers who came before?”

“What strangers?”

“The strangers who told Father to build that channel to bring the river water to our vegetables and grain.”

“But your clever father thought of that himself!”

Shimei went upstairs to her apartment to cry.  But she had no leisure to cry.  Those foul thoughts invaded her mind again.  “I must pray,” she told herself - and she did.  The battle was fierce, but short, and she won.

The thoughts came in her dreams.

The next day, there was something about Foquar’s closeness that was darkly attractive.  She had to fight against something in herself that wanted him to touch her.  Three times that day he cornered her and talked, standing closer to her than she liked - or did she like?  No, she did not like - it was sheer physical attraction.  She could not respect this man, therefore would not accept him.  That night, as she went to bed, she begged her Saviour to protect her mind and heart from all evil as she slept.  She woke refreshed, and Foquar’s nearness repelled her as usual.

Worse was in store.  At the evening meal, Foquar invited Feor to come on a space flight with him.  Feor was nervous; his parents encouraged him to go.

“What shall I do, sister?” he asked her in private later.

“If the other strangers had invited you, I would say yes, go.  Remember, I was not afraid of them, and neither were you.  You or I or anyone would be quite safe with them.  It is not the space flight that concerns me here - it is Foquar.  He is an evil man.  Don’t trust yourself to him, Feor.”

“It is the space flight that makes me hesitate.  I don’t remember the strangers you mention.”

“That is because Foquar has made you all forget!” cried Shimei.  “You, Mother and Father have all forgotten Chalata and Janita, Wysau, Abritis and Darte, and the others.  Who translated this?” she asked triumphantly, bringing her precious manuscript out of its drawer.

“I don’t know.  It’s rubbish,” said Feor automatically, crumpling it and throwing it into the waste paper basket.

“No!” Shimei fished it out, straightened it as best she could, and put it away lovingly.  “Feor, it’s not your fault, it’s Foquar who made you do that.  If that’s all he thinks of God’s word, then that” snapping her fingers “is all I think of him.  He will find God’s justice will pursue him, and God’s word will come true for him.”

There was something about the way she made this final statement that troubled Feor - but not for long.  He shrugged his shoulders and left her.

Shimei turned to her God and begged Him with tears to avert this evil plot.  Next morning she went to her father and implored him not to allow Feor to go.

“Why do you think Foquar is an evil man, daughter?  Can you point to one evil thing he has done?”

Her father had not noticed the overworked servants, and she could not produce the account book where Foquar’s salary was recorded.  No, her father would not hear of distrusting Foquar.  “This trip will make a man of my son,” he declared.

Shimei prayed and cried, but it seemed that God would not hear her.  The preparations went ahead as planned.  She made a final appeal to her brother.

“People will regard me as a coward if I refuse now,” he said.  “Prynoh was even insinuating that I could not be my father’s son!”

“Foquar will find him a bride from another planet,” said the Roptoa.

They went.  Shimei felt that God had forsaken her.

The next morning Shimei woke with a headache.  She rose as usual and tried to carry on, but she could not eat anything at breakfast; she only drank water.  Her mother sent her back to bed, for her stomach ached and she felt dizzy.  Her maid came to her.

“A drink of water, please - boiled water.”

“Yes, my lady.”

When Sihcha returned, she apologized for keeping her waiting.  “There is so much to do.”

“I must have been asleep - I hadn’t noticed.  Thank you, Sihcha.”

“Poor Sihcha,” thought Shimei as she drank.  She drifted off to sleep.

She woke.  Her head thumped, her stomach ached.  She felt dreadfully hot, and threw off her blanket.  Ten minutes later she found she was shivering, and pulled the blanket over her again.  She had another drink of water.  How good it was!

She remembered that Jesus, when He was dying on that cruel Roman gibbet, had said, “I thirst”.  Chalata had explained that He hung there, and died, for all His people, to take the punishment for all their sins - including her sins.  His Father had really forsaken Him during those dreadful three hours of eerie darkness.  “We can’t expect to have an easy life as His followers, but we will never be forsaken as Jesus was.”

After the midday meal, her father came to see her.

“You have a fever, daughter - your maid ought to sponge you with cool water.”

“She is too busy.  All the servants have too much to do.”

The Roptoa came, and felt her daughter’s icy hands and hot forehead.  “She ought to sponge you with cool water.  I will see that it is done.”

As tired Sihcha sponged an appreciative Shimei, the Roptoh had a visit from his steward, who could not find his account book.

“Make up a new one.  And employ another maidservant.”

“Your most gracious Majesty,” said the steward, “please may I re-employ five of the staff that were dismissed?  One is a kitchen maid, and four others.  They were good workers, your Majesty.”

The Roptoh remembered how long it had been, that same morning, between his ringing a bell for a servant, and his arrival.  “Yes, yes, you may do so.”

“Thank you, your Majesty.”

“I’m shivering, Sihcha - cover me, and have a rest.”

Sihcha was only too glad to obey.  She sat in her mistress’ dressing-

room till called.

“Sihcha, could you read me a little from the manuscript in the left hand top drawer of my dressing-table?”

Sihcha got it out.  “How do you read this?” she asked wonderingly.

“It is the new script the stranger invented.”


“No, Chalata.”

“Yes, I remember.  If those strangers were here, they would soon have you well.”

Shimei smiled.  “Each letter stands for one sound, and that one only.”

Sihcha brought the manuscript to Shimei.

“This one @, long A, this one a, this one b . . . ” One by one Shimei sounded all the symbols Chalata had used.

“Oh,” said Sihcha slowly.  “Then he delivered Him over to them to be crucified,” she read, rather slowly and tentatively, but perfectly correctly.  ““Crucified”?  What does that mean?”

“They hammered nails through His wrists and His feet into a wooden cross, and put it into a slot in the ground so that it stood up straight.”

“But that’s horrible!  Every time He breathed it would hurt terribly.”


“Who is this Jesus?”

Shimei explained.

“What did they think He had done wrong?  The others were criminals, I see.”

“Nothing.  The priests were jealous of Him.  They hated Him because He was so good, and the people loved to listen to His teaching.  He did nothing wrong at all.  It was for my sin He was punished - for the sin of all His people.  God demands perfect righteousness, and we keep doing things wrong.  I welcomed Foquar - and look at all the trouble my sin has brought on all my family!”

“My lady, how were you to know?”

“I was foolish - flattered by his admiration.  I ought to have been more cautious.”

Sihcha allowed this.

“My brother is at his mercy - and who knows what he is suffering now?”

Sihcha considered this.  “My lady, if God’s Son was punished for your sin, why are you still so unhappy about it?”

“Because - ” and Shimei stopped.  “Because I didn’t really believe I’d been forgiven.  Oh, thank you, Sihcha!  I have been forgiven - I can be sure, because God’s Son rose up from the dead.  That’s how we know that His Father accepted His sacrifice.”

Sihcha was skimming through the manuscript.

“But these are written, in order that you may believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, and that through trusting in Him you may have life in His Name,” she read.

Sihcha looked up.  The clapping came again.

“The Roptoa requires service.  I must go.”

“Come back when you may, with more water.”

“Yes, my lady.”

Shimei went to sleep.  When she woke, her head still throbbed, her stomach still ached, but there was peace in her heart.

That evening she felt a little better, and asked for half a slice of bread with her boiled water.

“My lady, did you speak to the Roptoh . . . ?”


“Thank you.”

The next morning, Shimei managed a small breakfast.  Later on that morning, Sihcha came again, with more boiled water and some fruit juice.

“Oh, thank you, Sihcha - just what I needed.”

“Would you like me to read to you?”

“Please - some of that manuscript.”

“Blessed are those who have not seen (Me), and yet have believed.”

It soon became clear that Sihcha liked to read the manuscript, and have her mistress explain it to her.  This went on after Shimei had fully recovered, and she found it gave her great joy.  How did people who had never seen Jesus come to know Him?  Through reading the account of His life and teaching; through listening to others explaining it.  That was how she had come to know Jesus.

When she tried to tell her mother, she was not interested.  It was the same with her father.  She wondered if she was doing it in the wrong way, and paid a visit to Lady Treprom.  To her delight, she found that Lady Treprom was interested, and was willing for her husband and Shimei to pray with her for Feor’s safe return.

There were so few in her city, in her country, who knew about her God.  What was the good of her going to Wysau’s world, even if he ever came back? or ever wanted her?  It was here, among her own people, that she was needed to spread the word.  There was no joy like knowing Him, no joy like talking with others about Him.  Yet her heart ached for Feor, and every day she prayed for him.  She even prayed for Foquar, that he might be converted.  Again there came the conviction that one day her prayer would be answered.

Six weeks after Feor’s departure, Shimei was lying in bed day-dreaming about Wysau when heady sickly-sweetness overpowered her mind.  Chalata and his team became shadowy figures; her mental picture of Wysau was blurred, and intermingled and confused with memories of Foquar at his best.  Her precious manuscript became Foquar’s translation. And she slept.

The next morning she woke as usual, had breakfast as usual, did not worry any more about Feor’s safety, but felt utterly disinclined for any exertion.  When Sihcha came and brought out the precious manuscript, Shimei was doubtful.  “That’s Foquar’s translation,” she said.  “I don’t know if it is correct.”

“But, my lady,” cried Sihcha in great surprise, “it’s Chalata’s translation.  Foquar uses the script in common use in Remgath.”

“Chalata?  Who is Chalata?”

“The leader of the first team of strangers - the ones who did us good.  The ones who told us about this God.”

Shimei rubbed her forehead in bewilderment.  “I can’t remember.  What’s the matter with me?  Heavenly Father, help me!” She looked at Sihcha; she, too, was bewildered.  “I’ve been hypnotized - Foquar tried often enough before.  Tell me again.”

Patiently Sihcha reminded her.  At first Shimei, in helpless confusion, did not know what to believe - but Sihcha had been her friend and ally for many years.  Shimei opened the manuscript and read a chapter.  It had the ring of truth about it.

“This, I know, is the truth.”

Sihcha smiled.  “It is, my lady.”

“Oh, thank you, Sihcha!”

But the confusion lingered.  Sure of his victory, Foquar, occupied with other things, did not trouble to seek her thoughts again.

The next day, Shimei tried again to disentangle her thoughts and memories.  “Wysau was their doctor.  He healed my mother’s ears, my father’s eyes.  Is that right, Sihcha?”

“It is.”

Still the confusion remained.  Was Foquar evil?  He had helped Artax - he and his team had drained the lower city.  She could remember nothing about the account book or Foquar’s salary.

“Please, Heavenly Father, clear my mind.  Show me what is true and what is false.  Is Foquar Your child?  Or is he an evil man?”

“It is more than eight weeks since that stranger took our son away,” said the Roptoh, looking out of his palace window at the place where the flying machine once stood.

“He will return safely,” said the Roptoa tranquilly.  “Everything is all right.”

This only increased the Roptoh’s anxiety.  His wife had been repeating these same words every time the subject was brought up.  There were other similar incantations on other subjects connected with Foquar, that she would say without thinking.  Mercifully his daughter, after a brief lapse, seemed able to think, and to share his concern for his son.  She was looking out too; there was no sign of a flying machine.  They had none - they could not go after Feor and bring him home.

“Feor is returning now,” stated the Roptoa.  “The flying machine is coming in to land.”

Father and daughter exchanged glances, and looked out once more.  A shining streak passed the window.  It seemed an age till they saw it again.  Next time it was clearly a flying machine.  Every time it returned it was nearer and nearer, looked larger and larger, till at last it landed.

Shimei wanted to run out to greet Feor, but she dared not without her father.  In the end, all three went out to welcome Feor home.

Foquar was breezy and brash as ever.  “Feor’s feeling a little strange because of the flight.  He’ll be as right as rain in a week or two.” A little strange!  Feor had lost weight; he looked tired and depressed.  He thanked Foquar politely for his trip; he came inside and sat down.

“We went through a time corridor,” said Foquar, taking a seat.  “Feor met a lovely girl - quite beautiful, she was - but unfortunately she wanted to return to her home.  So we, being gentlemen, took her back, and restored her to her family.”

“Oh, what a shame!” cried the Roptoa.

“Yes, a lovely girl,” said Foquar, his eyes on Shimei.

There was a pause.  The Roptoa asked Foquar more about the trip.  Feor said:

“I don’t feel well - I’ll retire to my apartment.”

Once Feor had gone, heady hypnotic influence filled the room.  The Roptoh and the Roptoa also retired; no-one could prevent Foquar from following Shimei to hers.  She could no longer fight against his hypnotism, so he lifted it before showing her his Tsetri Bible.  He sat down beside her on her bed, and showed her a verse.

“When you stand praying,” he translated, “believe that you receive it, and it shall be done for you.” He put his arm round her.  “You have prayed for my conversion, Shimei - why don’t you believe that it is done for you?  There is no reason why you should not accept me as your husband.”

When in doubt and distress, a true child will cry to its father.

“Come,” urged Foquar, “let’s have my ring on your finger - there - and let’s have a foretaste of wedded bliss.”

He turned her round and lay beside her on the bed.  He was so intent on his purpose that he did not notice a slim, light-footed creature slip out of Shimei’s apartment and run to her father.  She pulled at his sleeve till he was jerked out of his hypnotism-induced sleep.

“Father, it’s Shimei!  Come - come quick!”

Shimei’s stupor was gradually dispelled as his intentions became clear.  Leaving her dress in his grasp, she leapt off the bed.  “You’re no Christian!” she shouted.  “No real Christian would flout God’s command like this!”

He pursued her with hypnotism.  This time she was prepared, and fought it - but how long could she go on?  And even if she won, what could she do alone, without her father’s support?

“I shall really enjoy you when I get you,” he said with a smug smile.  Footsteps sounded in the passage outside as he spoke - a knock!

“Please come in!” shouted Shimei - and in marched the Roptoh, followed by Ruhamah.

“You would violate my daughter, would you?” cried he in fury, “in my own palace?  Get out of my kingdom, immediately, and never dare to show your face or your flying machine here again!”

Foquar’s sickly sweetness came again, heady and strong.

“Fight it, Father!” she cried.  Her heart cried to her Heavenly Father.  Foquar’s sickly sweetness diminished, increased, diminished again.  He looked startled, annoyed, determined.  There was another sickly sweetness in the room, which did not try to enter their minds.  Father and daughter stood and stared at Foquar in bewilderment.  They saw him annoyed - and afraid.  He leapt up and went at a run, calling to his crew.  Surely he would come back, and use his sickly sweetness again!  She grabbed her dress and buttoned frantically.  The Roptoh strode before her to the window in the corridor outside her room, which gave onto the park.  She ran to join him, to see Foquar’s crew running into the flying machine, the ladder being drawn up - and they took off - they were gone!  Really gone?  She could hardly believe it.  Why had they run away so fast?  They watched the flying machine circle round, once and again - smaller every time - at last it was gone, really gone. The moment she’d longed and prayed for had come at last.

“Father, I’m so grateful - thank you a thousand times.”

“He did not . . . ?”

“No - you came in time.”

“And this other daughter - ” he said as Ruha came up to them.

“Yes, hasn’t she grown?  And thank you, Ruha, thank you for fetching him.”

“That’s the last time I welcome strangers.”

Shimei went to Feor’s apartment to tell him the good news.

“I’m glad he’s gone,” said Feor dully.

“What’s the matter, Feor?”

“She was a lovely girl,” he said.  “She was absolutely beautiful.  The first really lovely girl I’ve set eyes on.  She didn’t want me - she screamed - she said she wanted to go home.  She had dark hair - long and curly - brown eyes, dark lashes - she was slim and graceful.  She couldn’t speak our language, but Foquar could talk to her.  Oh, Shimei, I want her!” He clenched his fists.  “But it’s no good, she doesn’t want me.”

“People don’t die of broken hearts, brother,” said Shimei.  “They forget, and love another - perhaps - eventually.  I am glad you’ve come back.  We were getting really worried about you.”

“I’ve tried to forget - I can’t.  When I touched her hand, it sent tingles all over me.  My body wants those tingles - it goes on and on wanting them.  Have you ever been in love?”

“He’s never touched me, so I can’t tell you.”

Feor did show a flicker of interest.  “Who?”

“Why, Wysau, of course.  The stranger doctor who healed Mother, and Father.”

“He was a real good looker.  If only I’d had his good looks, she might have liked me.  Oh Shimei, I’m sorry - he won’t come back.  And she doesn’t want me.”

“If we don’t see them, we’ll forget more quickly.”

“I can’t forget.”

“It’ll take time.”

He paced up and down restlessly.

“Play something on your trie,” she suggested.

“I don’t think I could.”

“Shall we go for a ride?”

“I’m too tired.”

“We could ride up to the mountains, tie the horses and rest there in the shade.”

“No - I feel too ill - but thank you for your concern.  I’d like a drink.”

For a few days they dreaded Foquar’s return; soon this was forgotten in their concern for Feor.  He seemed reluctant to leave his apartment, so Shimei went to see him there.

“Father had a doctor to me yesterday,” said Feor one afternoon.  “He said I should cheer up, behave as if I had forgotten her, go for a ride, force myself to eat.”

“The ride helped,” said Shimei.

“Yes, perhaps, but forcing myself to eat was a mistake.  I vomited, and now I feel worse than ever.”

“I’m sure Dr. Wysau could cure you.”

“I can’t call him.”

“We can ask God to send him.”

“You do go on about the strangers’ God.  Foquar said he believed in their God - and look what he did!”

“It was a lie.  He said you would feel better in a week.”

“Ha ha,” commented Feor bitterly.

“Quite.  Now when he was trying to violate me, I called on the strangers’ God - my God - and He sent Ruha to Father, and Father to me, just in the nick of time.  And He gave us both the power to withstand Foquar’s hypnotism.”

“So you say it was Him Who sent Foquar away.”

“I don’t really understand what happened.  Another hypnotist may have interfered with Foquar’s plans - I don’t know.  But, however He did it, it was Him.  We couldn’t do it.”

“Another hypnotist - could have been one of the other strangers.”

“They are really His servants.  So let’s ask Him to send them back, and they may well be able to cure you.”

“You can ask if you like,” said Feor, getting up restlessly, and rubbing the back of his neck.

“I will,” she said, moving towards the door.

“Come back afterwards.”

The days went by.  Feor got worse.  None of the doctors could do anything to help him.  Shimei cried and cried to her God - but no-one came.  At last the flying machine arrived, and out of it came Chalata.  Shimei ran into her brother’s apartment, crying, “They’ve come!  They’re here!  Yes, it is Dr. Chalata.  Come and meet them, Feor.”

Feor could not walk very fast.  The Roptoh hurried down before them.

“We don’t want any strangers here!  My son is ill because of a space flight with that wicked stranger.  I never want to see a flying machine again.”

“Could you please tell us about your son’s trouble?  We may be able to help.”

“Go away and don’t come back!  Go on, now, this minute, and good riddance!”

Chalata bowed, went inside, and the flying machine took off.

“They’ve gone, Feor!  Father sent them away.  And they are the only people who could help us.  God did send them - and Father sent them away.  And after what he said to them, they won’t ever come back!”

In abject misery and bitter disappointment she helped Feor back up to his apartment.  He lay down on his bed, exhausted.  She sat staring at the floor.

“Give up, give up,” said a voice in her mind.  “Forget about the strangers and their God.  Love your family; marry a lord of your own people.”

“But I still love Wysau!”

“Wysau will never come back.”

“But his God is here, and will always be here.  Whether Wysau comes back or not, I will follow Him.”

She had asked God to send Chalata and his team, and He had.  She had asked God to save them from Foquar, and He had.  She must ask God to help Feor, and must not presume to tell Him how.

She wanted to retire to her apartment to pray, but it would be a pity to wake Feor.  A little exertion helped him to sleep - she must remember that.  While he slept, she prayed, and knew that God was close to her.  Then, suddenly, there came a whiff of sickly sweetness, but it was different from Foquar’s.  A little later, Feor woke up.

“Feor,” asked Shimei, “do you remember what it was like to be hypnotized?”

“No - yes,” said Feor slowly.  “Yes, I remember now.  It was after I’d overheard Foquar talking to his crew.  He was saying, “In a few days he’ll be fatally addicted.  Then I take her back to Tellus, take him back to Yumelpthi, marry Princess Shimei, and, when Feor dies in a couple of months, I’ll be next in line for the throne.” Then he said, “Oh, you heard that, did you?  Well, you won’t remember it for long.” And there was that funny sickliness in my head.”

““Fatally addicted”?  Whatever did he mean?”

“I don’t know.  But he said I would die in a couple of months.  One month’s gone by already.”

“You didn’t remember that before just now?”

“No.” Feor and Shimei looked at each other.

“I asked God to help you - and something did happen while you were asleep.  I felt a little sickly sweetness; it was different from Foquar’s.”

“It must have been the other strangers.  They must still be wanting to help us.”

“You should have heard what Father said.”

“They still did that for us - let us remember what Foquar tried to make us forget - after Father sent them away.  They could still come back.  Ask your God to send them back again.”

Shimei did.  They waited.

Three weeks went by.  Feor got worse and worse.  He could not eat, only drink; pain spread from his neck all over his body.  He could only sleep for about two hours after exertion.  The whole family felt distressed and helpless.  All Shimei could do was pray - and try to comfort her brother.

“I’m going to die in a week,” said Feor.  “What happens to people when they die?”

“That depends who you listen to.”

“I don’t believe in our religion.  Father has made countless prayers and offered costly sacrifices, but none of our gods has done anything for me.  This God of yours has answered three times when you have called to Him.  He has saved us and our country from Foquar.  What did Chalata say - about what would happen when we die?”

“That those who had been born again would go to Heaven to be with God, but those who refused to repent and turn from their sins to God would be sent away from Him to everlasting torment.”

“I suppose that’s fair enough.  If, when all is well with you, you tell a man you don’t want to know him, you can’t expect him to invite you to come and stay when your house is burnt down.  I did refuse to repent when Chalata told us.”

“But you can now.”

“I shall have to.  I am a coward - the thought of everlasting torment doesn’t exactly appeal to me.  And I am afraid of your holy God.  I could be comfortable with our old gods - they were capricious and immoral - but your pure, holy God is quite other.  He makes me feel like one of those dirty little insects that crawl around on poor sick people.  Please, sister, what did Chalata say about the Saviour?”

“That He bore the punishment for all our sin.  He was separated from His Father, and His Father poured out all his anger against sin on His own Son.  And His Son was hanging on a wooden cross, being executed - and suddenly it went dark in the middle of the day, and stayed dark for three hours.  When it started to get light again, God’s Son cried out, “Father, into Your hands I commend My spirit.” Then He cried, “It is finished!” and He died.”

“But what do I do to become a believer, like you?”

“There’s something more.  Three days later, some of His women followers came to His grave in the early morning to embalm His body.  When they got there, they found that the great stone was rolled away from the mouth of the cave, and His body had gone.  One of the women stayed and wept.  Through her tears, she saw a man behind her, and, assuming it was the gardener, turned to him and said, “Tell me where you have put His body, and I will take it away.” But He said, “Mary!” Then she realized it was God’s Son - alive again!”

“Why did He have to come alive again?”

“So He can be with us now, to help us - to pray to His Father in heaven for us - but there’s something more important than that.  It proves that God has accepted His sacrifice for us - that there is no more punishment due to us for any of our sins, so long as we will turn away from them in loathing, and believe that He died for us.”

“Can you pray for me?  Your God listens when you pray.”

Shimei felt nervous.  “God will listen to anyone who truly repents.”

Restlessness drove Feor to drag his aching body round his room; then, in weakness, he crumpled onto his knees by his bed.  He must pray - he must.