Old Kata let them talk; she could afford to be silent. Her turn would surely come. She had had most to do with their mistress up to now, and, moreover, she was recognized as the wisest head in the place—not excepting any priest. She sat now with her knitting, considering it beneath her dignity to take notice of all that was said.
Moreover, she had already expressed her opinion, in the most favourable terms, and as the others likewise had nothing but praise to utter, there was no call for her to take further part.
“Anyway, I’m certain she won’t be as hard and cruel as the last one was, with her scolding and words,” said one of the maids. “What say you, Kata?”
“She’s the blessedest light I’ve met in all my days,” answered Kata quietly, and a trifle slowly, as was her way. “There’s never an evil thought in her soul, nor a hard word in her mouth. And that’s the truth.”
CHAPTER II
Sera Ketill went late to bed that night. By ill chance it was Saturday, and he had to have his sermon ready for the morrow.
On this occasion, above all, it behoved him to take some pains with it. It was his first service, and there would be a large and expectant congregation.
Nevertheless, he did not feel at all in the mood for dealing with his text: “Ye cannot serve two masters.”
He felt a sudden bitterness of regret that he had ever decided to become a priest. Had he but chosen any other profession—a lawyer, a doctor, even a trader! Then he would have been able at least to avenge his defeats indirectly, by letting others suffer for them. Just think, for instance, of the satisfaction with which he could have taken up the task of passing sentence upon some one or other, instead of pointing out the inadvisability, nay, the impossibility, of serving two masters. He wished he could have altered the text, and held forth, for instance, upon the abomination of desolation, or the Day of Judgment. But it could not be done; the text was of serving two masters, and nothing could alter it. And he had to have a good strong sermon on that text by tomorrow, or his first appearance would be a failure. He was not disposed to risk further defeats after the ill-success of his plans today. He needed the encouragement of a victory, and must take it where it seemed most easily attainable.
He thought of his changed position; all things had turned out badly up to now. His castles in the air; his dreams of power—unlimited power—in the parish, had, he could already perceive, faded into nothing. And suddenly it struck him that he had only to give vent to his own bitterness, directing it into the proper channel, and there was his sermon!