May be we haven't all been sure about it before,—I'll only say the curate must excuse it—but we've got our eyes open now as to what he really is, so I thank him heartily."
"Hear, hear," came from all the young men in the tightly packed windows and round the walls, while the women nodded approvingly.
"I'd just like to say, too, if, on account of this day, any troubles or unpleasantness come to the curate up there—I've said enough—there's room for a parson down here among us! If Mr Hansted gets into difficulties up there—isn't it so, friends?—we're quite ready to receive him with open arms and a big hurrah! Shall we pledge our words on it, eh?"
Thundering cheers from the windows and walls, nay, even from the women, followed these words.
Emanuel rose, his expression shewed that the "Viking's" clarion had roused him too. He stood by the rostrum, and immediately all was hushed. He stood for a moment, as if fighting out something with himself. Then he said in a firm but low voice:
"I thank you for your sympathy, my friends. It makes me happy and contented. Nobody knows what the future will bring, but I no longer have any fear." Raising his voice, he added, the colour mounting to his cheek, "I know my vocation, and neither opposition nor battle—nothing shall hinder me from following it. Be sure of that! In thanking you all for your goodwill, I
