A long table took up most of the room, and around it sat 16 men. As a group, they had a wild and wasted look, with skeletal limbs, hollow cheeks, unshorn beards, and fixed stares. Maurice submitted to the scrutiny of this assembly of saints like a martyr to the flames. His salvation depended on his winning a place among them. At the head of the table, Apa Zeno, the holy father of the colony, looked off vacantly and scratched himself. To his right sat his deputy, Elias, who raised a hand.