Peter Nielsen shrugged his shoulders. "To clothe the naked and give food to the hungry are deeds of mercy."
"I quite understand, quite," said the Canon.
"I only mentioned it," continued the parish priest, "lest you should suppose—"
"I quite understand," said the Canon, interrupting him, with a bow and a benignant smile.
"And now," said Peter Nielsen, "I am at your service."
Thereupon the Canon unfolded to his astonished hearer the nature of his mission. The pastor sat listening attentively with his head bowed, and his hands planted on his knees. Then, when his visitor had done speaking, he thrust his left hand into his trouser pocket and produced a palmful of carraway seed. He put some into his mouth, and began to chew it; whereupon the whole room became scented with carraway.
"I am fond of this seed," said the priest composedly, whilst he turned over the grains in his hand with the five fingers of his right. "It is good for the stomach, and it clears the brain. So I understand that there are three parties?"
"Exactly, there is that of Olaf Petersen, a narrow, uncompromising man, very sharp on the morals of the clergy; there is also that of the Dean, Thomas Lange, an ambitious and scheming ecclesiastic; and there is lastly that of the Archdeacon Hartwig Juel, one of the most amiable men in the world."
"And you incline strongly to the latter?"
"I do—how could you discover that? Juel is not a man to forget a friend who has done him a favour."