Father Ignatius lived in the church house, inside the fence, in neighboring rooms with a watchman. And then, one night, a knock on the door. Usually the watchman goes to see — who is there, if it is urgent to the father, then calls him. Father Ignatius hears — a watchman scolds someone, thought — maybe we need help? Out, he sees — on the porch stands a barefoot man, about forty years old, in a blue state robe, in «trains» draped with saggy knees, unshaven, in short — the most «vagrant» kind. But he doesn’t smell like alcohol. By the end of October, it was cold.
— Father! Tell him to come tomorrow! — The watchman grumbled indignantly — go! He had to confess in the middle of the night!
— Where are you from, brother? asked Father Ignatius.
— From the morgue, over there — a strange man pointed his hand at the hospital fence — the Mother of God released me for only two hours, I did not pass the seventh ordeal.
The watchman looks at him, and he slowly turns his finger at his temple, saying that he is crazy!
But, Father Ignatius, the father was always not afraid, looked at the night guest — come in — says. Confessed him properly, absolved him of his sins, even communed with spare gifts, led him out the door. He went to the hospital. The next day Father Ignatius went to the morgue to see if the night guest had told the truth. Looks — and indeed, his confessor is lying on the table in the same outfit, and the janitor’s grandmother swears for nothing — all the students, the damned interns are having fun! A dead man in my work robe was dressed! And the pants I used to wash the floor with! They mock a defenseless grandmother!
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