of speech
should have fallen upon so humble a man. "But the schoolmaster
himself is only a peasant," he added, with a little more
confidence.
After this preamble, Hoek Matts folded his hands and was ready to
begin preaching at once. But by that time the schoolmaster had
recovered from his first shock of surprise.
"Do you think of speaking here now, Hoek Matts--immediately?"
"Yes, that's my intention," the man replied. He grew as frightened
as a child when Storm glowered at him. "It was my purpose, of
course, to first ask leave of the schoolmaster and the rest," he
stammered.
"We're all through for the day," said Storm, conclusively.
Then the meek little man began to beg with tears in his voice:
"Won't you please let me say a few words? I only want to tell of
the things that have come to me when walking behind the plow and
when working by myself at the kiln; and now they want to come out."
But the schoolmaster, though he had had such a day of triumph
himself, felt no pity for the poor little man. "Matts Ericsson
comes here with his own peculiar notions, and claims that they are
messages from God," he declared rebukingly.
Hoek Matts dared not venture a protest, and the schoolmaster opened
the hymnbook.
"Let us all join in singing hymn one hundred and eighty-seven,"
he said. Whereupon he read out the hymn in stentorian tones, then
he began to sing at the top of his voice, "Are your windows open
toward Jerusalem."
Meanwhile, he thought: "It was well after all that the pastor
happened in to-day; now he can see that I know how to maintain
order in my Zion."
But no sooner was the hymn finished than a man jumped to his feet.
It was proud and dignified Ljung Bjoern Olafsson, who was married to
one of the Ingmar girls, and was the owner of a large farmstead in
the heart of the parish.
"We down at this end think that the schoolmaster might have
consulted our wishes before turning Matts Ericsson down," he
mildly protested.
"Oh, you think so, do you, Sonny?" The schoolmaster spoke in
just the kind of tone he would have used in reproving some young
whippersnapper. "Then let me tell you that no one but myself has
any say here, in this hall."
Ljung Bjoern turned blood red. He had not meant to provoke a quarrel
with Storm, but had simply wished to soften the blow for Hoek Matts,
who was an inoffensive man. Just the same, he could not help
feeling chagrined over the reply he had got; but before he could
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