It was Sunday; the sun shone warm; the church-goers, old and young, assembled under the great lime-tree near Eva’s grave. They expected their young preacher, who to-day was to preach for the third time.
The gentlefolks would also certainly be there, they thought, because the young Baron was come back out of foreign parts, and with him the other gentleman, who certainly was to have Miss Louise.
“Our new preacher is worth hearing,” said one of the peasant women; “such a young man, who actually preaches the old faith! as gentle and as meek in conversation as if he were one of ourselves! And in the pulpit, God help us! it went quite down into my legs the last time about the Day of Judgment!”
“There is Father!” [Note: The general term applied to the preacher by the Danish peasants.] exclaimed the crowd, and the heads of old and young were uncovered. The women courtesied deeply as a young man in priest-robes went into the church-door. His eyes and lips moved to a pious smile, the hair was smooth upon his pale forehead.
“Good day, children!” said he.
It was Hans Peter. He had, indeed, had “the best characters,” and thus had received a good living, and now preached effectively about the devil and all his works.
The singing of the community sounded above the grave where the sun shone, where the stocks sent forth their fragrance, and where Eva slept: she whose last wish was to live.
“There is no love i’ th’ grave below,
No music, warmth, or pleasure.”
The earth lay firm and heavy upon her coffin-lid.
During the singing of the second hymn a handsome carriage drove up before the church-yard. The two friends, who were only just returned to their home in Denmark, entered the church, together with the mother and Louise.