"No," said Mining, earnestly, "it was a wicked trick. It was making light of holy things."
"Oh, ho! Such candidates' sermons are not such holy things,--even when they come from our pious Gottlieb."
"But, Rudolph, in the church!"
"Ah, Mining, I acknowledge it was a stupid trick, I did not consider it beforehand; I only thought of the sheepish face Gottlieb would make, and that amused me so that I did the foolish thing. But let it go, Mining!" and he threw his arm about her again.
"No, let go!" said Mining, but did not push it away. "And the pastor said, if he should report the matter, you could never in your life get a parish."
"Let him report it then; I wish he would, and I should be out of the scrape once for all."
"What?" asked Mining, making herself free, and pushing him back a little way, "do you say that in earnest?"
"In solemn earnest. It was the first and last time I shall enter a pulpit."
"Rudolph!" exclaimed Mining, in astonishment.
"Why should that trouble you?" cried Rudolph, hastily. "Look at Gottlieb, look at me! Am I fit for a pastor? And if I had whole systems of theology in my head, so that I could even instruct the learned professors, they would not let me through my examination; they demand also a so-called religious experience. And if I were the apostle Paul himself, they would have nothing to do with me, if they knew about the little scar on my cheek."