standing, with his lip curled, while he followed the figure of the young priest with a contemptuous glance to the door of the carriage, where "Death" stood with his hat in his hand, bending to the dust like a worm.
As soon as the old coachman had set the horses going, the curate sank back in the corner of the carriage and pressed his hand to his forehead with an expression of pain. He threw his soft, wide-brimmed hat into the seat at once, as if it burnt his forehead; and as the carriage jolted and creaked along the uneven road, he remained for several minutes with closed eyes and compressed lips, as if he could hardly keep back his tears.
He was received in the Parsonage by the Provst, who had just returned from the service in Veilby church. The arrangement between the two clergymen was, that they both preached every Sunday, one at Skibberup, the other at Veilby. This was a device of the Provst's, for he feared, and not without reason, that the badly disposed villagers of Skibberup, who so stubbornly declined his ministrations, would further shew their enmity by flocking to the church when the curate preached. Therefore he only made known at
