Karlsen allowed himself a momentary lapse from dignity to the extent of a single wink.
"The rocking-chair," murmured Egholm reminiscently.
"But," went on the Evangelist, "you owed arrears of tithe ever since February of last year...."
His voice grew thick with imminent laughter.
"So we decided to annex the forty _kroner_ for tithes--and here's the rest!"
"Decided ... who decided? When the money was collected for me? Impossible!"
"The congregation agreed to it," said Karlsen unconcernedly. Then suddenly he dug one thumb into his despairing brother's ribs, uttered a sound like the rasp of a saw, and whispered:
"And Fru Westergaard was there, too--my son!"
Limp and utterly dispirited, Egholm walked up with Karlsen to the station. A strange feeling of detachment had come over him, and the inclination to weep that he always felt after great excitement.
Karlsen walked a couple of paces ahead, talking gaily over his shoulder.
"What say?" queried Egholm against the wind. The handbag with edifying works at six _kroner_ cloth boards weighed heavily in his numbed hand.
"I say, it's a good thing we're near the end of the month."
"Yes," agreed Egholm. "But what d'you mean?"
"Pay day, my dear man. And I can do with it!"
"But I thought--I thought the work was voluntary. It says in the Rules of the Brotherhood...."
"Huh! A long way that'd go. About as far as...."
"No, of course...." agreed Egholm meekly, shifting the bag to his other hand.
"But they don't pay me enough," said the Evangelist harshly. "Not by a long way. Everything's getting dearer, and I've had a lot of extra expenses into the bargain. I helped a poor girl that had got into trouble. A Frøken Madsen. Bought her a cigar shop in Kerteminde; it cost an awful sum. But she was a sort of relation--not of mine, you understand. My wife's people. But I count it all the same, of course. No, they'll have to give me a rise. And they will, too, I know. They can't do without me, and that's the end of it."
They reached the station, and Karlsen took his ticket.
"_Second_ class, I said," he cried, and winked at Egholm.
"Came from Veile, and going back to Veile. Life's one long journey. Anyhow, it's what we're supposed to do: go out into the world and make converts. Know a man named Justesen in Veile? Horse-dealer. No? Ah, he's a man if you like! Never troubles to ask the price when he finds a pair to suit him. 'Bring 'em along'--that's all he says."