Alone.
And suddenly he fell on his knees. On hands and knees he crept out of the room, through the passage, out into the courtyard and across the enclosure, through the churchyard up to the door of the church.
He pressed his forehead against the granite steps, and sobbed bitterly.
The sun showed in the north, a dull red glow, with the sky deeper and darker round it. Farther off hung clouds, a delicate rose, neatly and regularly in tier upon tier. Night, but the sun was there. The meadows were thickly veiled with dew. All nature was at peace.
But before the door of one poor dark little church lay the priest, his forehead pressed against the cold stone.
And for the first time in his life he prayed from his heart to the God in whom he had never before believed.
“Peace, Lord, give peace to my soul!”
But there was no peace.
Ketill lay there long, sobbing and praying. Then, rising, he stood with bowed head and clasped hands, and whispered:
“Lord, I will seek Thee and Thy peace. My life shall be a prayer and a cry to Thee. And Thou who hast said: ‘Seek, and ye shall find; ask, and it shall be given unto you’—Thou wilt not deny me peace. A humble and a contrite heart....”