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These fancies he had versified, and having written the result down on a half-sheet of paper, he folded it into a narrow strip, and then twisted it into an almost impossible knot, and handed it to the person nearest concerned. Johanson read with astonishment: "It striketh me That you should be A gentleman, And drive a span, Live high, drink wine, Ask folks to dine, And make a dash.
Dear me, girls, did you ever in all your born days hear such a voice?" "No," cried several in chorus. "He's just the dearest thing I ever saw," declared Ernestine Johanson, making a face as sour as the reputation of a crabapple. At this moment the discussion of "High C" was dropped as suddenly as "it" had appeared upon the scene. Another arrival claimed the interest of the girls.
Think what Alf was and see what he is! I don't want to talk any more to-day. You go, Gull. I've got something to think about." Johanson, lost in his own thoughts, had not noticed the whispered conversation till his own name of the past was mentioned. After that, in bitter repentance he heard the galling words that penetrated his inmost soul.
Ernestine Johanson inquired with a shudder. "There must be," Olga declared with a suggestion of awe in her voice. "If it isn't a ghost and I don't believe in such things it must be somebody escaped from a lunatic asylum." "I saw something mysterious moving through the woods near our cottage one night," Addie Graham interposed at this point.
The newly-confirmed with their friends were to "go forward," while the rest of the congregation were to remain in their seats praying for the young soldiers of Christ, now fully enlisted under His banner. Johanson had taken a modest place at the chancel railing; but even there he was an outcast, for it was plain that no one was willing to kneel beside him.
Through all those long preparatory lessons Elsa kept her place by the side of the dark man, without word or comment from her parents. The time for the confirmation was drawing near. "I do not know what I shall do about Johanson," said the pastor to his wife. "I get nothing from him in the class except plain, direct, and most correct answers to my questions.
Put up that book, or I'll throw my friend here at you. I never miss, so look out!" He touched the club-like stick beside him. Johanson quickly put his hand in his breast-pocket and took out a small revolver. "Here is my friend," he said. "I never miss with this in my hand!" He spoke coolly, but his eyes were fearless and determined. "You let me alone, and I'll let you alone.
He knocked at the small room opposite the main entrance, and a shrill voice having shouted, "Come in!" the visitors opened the door. "I bring a new-comer, Our guest for the summer! He's Johanson, he; Gull Hansdotter, she."
In a few days he was almost well, for broken down though he was, he still had some of the vigour of his naturally strong constitution. The funeral was over. Johanson was apparently dozing, lying on his sofa, now in its form for the day; while Gull and the cellar-master were chatting together in low, whispering tones.
When the boys and girls had all gone out, Johanson stepped to the pastor's side and said, "Please put down my name." "For what?" asked the pastor, in astonishment. "For the confirmation class," was the calm reply. "I have never been confirmed."
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