Although it is still midday, the church is so dark that they can barely see each other. No one expects the child to survive. Widow Dyer has convinced them all of this. No healthy baby can be so unnatural as to not have cried for three days! He sleeps, wakes up, eats, but does not cry. Not even once! He has twelve silky black curls on his head, his eyes are blue. Widow Dyer says it is best for him to die. The priest arrives late from his meal. He discreetly releases the gas from his stomach, takes the baby, asks Mundy if he renounces the works of Satan, and gives him the name: James Dyer. One name is enough for such a fragile creature. Less work for the person who will carve his tombstone.