Bishop Picromini was busy for nearly half the night, and when little Joshua's wounds no longer bled and the temperature on his forehead was no longer capable of burning people's fingers, the night of the devil had passed, and the morning light of the Holy Spirit poured out again on holy Assisi, and the milky churches and monasteries were like a layer of pure gold gilded in the morning light, rich and holy, and there was no sign that just a few hours ago there had been an innocent child who had been brutally murdered. Pen & Fun & Pavilion www.biquge.info

Both Bishop Perugia and Bishop Picromini missed the morning prayer, but the cause of slackness was not laziness or lust, so it was not to blame, at least so Bishop of Perugia thought, yawning and swaying his fat body through the narrow corridor, when one of his disciples quickly came up and blocked his way to his bedroom.

Alas, if this disciple had not won the affection of the Bishop of Perugia because of his rich and generous family, and his own intelligence and dexterity, he would have been taught a few clubs by the Bishop of Perugia for such recklessness, but since he was, even if he was about to sleep directly on the cold stone floor, the Bishop of Perugia would still be willing to listen to what he had to say.

Bishop Picromini stood behind Bishop of Perugia, he was also very tired, but he was known for his extraordinary sensitivity and perseverance at school, although it was not intentional, but the words of the young priest still fell into his ears word for word, and the bishop of Perugia showed a stunned look at that time, of course, the priest's words surprised them a little, but based on their talent and later education, when the young priest raised his respectful head, There was no expression on the faces of the two of them that would allow him to find a clue.

"You are doing well, my child," Bishop Perugia put his hand on his disciple, and could not help lamenting that he, an almost adult disciple, could be deceived by a child who could be his son: "Very well," he said, smacking his lips, "Very well, now you can ......" He turned his head to look at the room behind him, and suddenly changed his mind: "You go and bring the barrel and go with me to the kitchen." ”

When the young clergyman picked up the barrel, he could not help stirring his not thick eyebrows, for the barrel contained about half of the filthy gauze, and in it blood and pus, and the residue of the ointment, which he could not identify, and which he feared more than filthy that it was the product of the devil's actions—unlike Bishop of Perugia, who often jokingly called his senior Bishop Picromini a "wizard", and these ignorant or naïve young clergymen did not care about such things, And the fear of those who do these things, in any case, the identification and hunting of heresies by the Holy See, which began in A.D. 200, is now weakened, but it is like a charcoal fire enclosed in a hearth, and it can be re-ignited vigorously and violently as soon as fresh air and wind enter.

It was only because of the respect and obedience of a disciple to a teacher, a priest to a bishop, and a young man to his elders that the young priest obeyed the orders of the Bishop of Perugia, and he did not even ask why the handymen were not allowed to do it, but went to the kitchen with the Bishop of Perugia - after the morning prayer it was time for breakfast, and the Bishop of Perugia drove out the cooks, and then ordered the priest to pour all the filth from the barrel into the burning flame. As soon as the flames touched the damp gauze and ointment, black smoke and an indescribably strange smell came out, and the priest held his breath, stood up, and watched in awe as the two bishops burrowed into the hearth, and stirred the charcoal with their flaming sticks until they had burned what had been thrown into the incineration.