to conduct the Communion Service. While he performed it, his somewhat
unmusical voice trembled with inward emotion. There could be no doubt
whatever as to what were the inspector's real opinions.

The chaplain could not help being rather pleased at the satisfaction the
dean would now be obliged to render him, for it had been quite against
the chaplain's wish and advice, that Johnsen was allowed to preach at
the morning service. It would have been more advisable to have given him
a first trial either at a Bible-reading, or at most at the evening
service. But now the murder was out, and he had shown his feeling of
antagonism to the Church before the whole congregation. What would the
dean do? The affair would naturally have to be reported.

As soon as the service was over, Martens left the altar and hurried into
the sacristy, into which he had already seen the dean enter.

"What do you say to that, sir?" he cried breathlessly, as he shut the
door after him.

Dean Sparre was sitting in his armchair, reading the hymn-book he had in
his hand. At the chaplain's question he raised his head with an
expression of mild reproof at the disturbance, and said abstractedly,
"To what are you alluding?"

"Why, the sermon; of course I allude to the sermon; it is perfectly
scandalous!" cried the chaplain, excitedly.

"Well, certainly," answered the dean, "I cannot say that it was a good
sermon, taken as a whole, but if you take into consideration--"

"But really, sir--" interrupted the chaplain.

"It appears to me, and it is not the first time I have noticed it, my
dear Martens, that you do not quite get on with our new fellow-worker;
but is it not to us that he ought really to look for support?"

The chaplain cast down his eyes; there was some extraordinary power
about his superior. Not an instant before he had formed his opinion
quite clearly, but the moment he found himself face to face with the
dean's genial countenance, all his ideas seemed to change.

"It grieves me to be obliged to speak to you thus, my dear Martens, but
I do so with the best intentions; and, then, we are alone."

"But don't you think, sir, that he was far too bold?" asked the
chaplain.

"Yes, clearly, clearly so," assented the dean, in a friendly tone. "He
was unguarded, like all beginners; perhaps the most unguarded I have
heard. But then we know quite well that the same thing often occurred in
our own time. It would be quite unreasonable to expect