"But it's a discovery I've made--it's of the utmost importance. A wonderful find--here in the Holy Scripture itself. Read it, here--it's only a few lines. I can hardly believe my own senses. Read it--there!"
"But, my dear friend," said the Angel, "you can see for yourself I'm engaged. We're in the middle of important business."
Egholm stood with hectic cheeks; his former respect for the Angel still checked any actual outburst of fury, but from the look of him, it was doubtful what might happen next.
"This is not the proper place to discuss the word of God, nor the proper time, nor the mood for it, either. Come round again this evening, my dear Egholm. At eight, say, and then we can talk over whatever it is that's troubling you."
The commercial plucked him by the sleeve. "I thought you were coming round to the hotel--_Postgaarden_, you said."
"Er--well, we might say _to-morrow_ evening at eight," corrected the Angel. "Yes, come round to-morrow, Egholm; that will do."
Egholm drew himself up and shot sparks, but said nothing. He shut up the clasp of his Bible with a snap.
"Have a cigar, won't you?" said the Angel, offering the box.
"Yes, yes, do. They're none so bad--what, Hr. Nathan?"
Hr. Nathan uttered a curious sound--an articulate shudder, as it were--and looked quizzically at the box.
"I've other things to think about than drinking wine. The fate of the Brotherhood lies in my hand. In _my_ hand. I'm going round to the Deacon now."
"No, really? He he! Are you really? Well, well," said Karlsen, with that strangely jovial angel voice of his, that Egholm knew so well, and yet found strange....
But Egholm was so shaken by his interview with the Angel that he did not go round to the Deacon after all. The Deacon was a pottery worker, living at a village just outside the town.
He went back home to look again and make sure it was right. He clutched the Bible tightly under his arm as he walked, as if in dread lest the all-important text might drop out.
Yes, there it was. He read through the passage again in wonder, and fell to musing anew.
That same evening Evangelist Karlsen came round.
"It's no good, Karlsen. No. I'm not going to give in."
Young Karlsen stood staring open mouthed.
"No. I've settled up with myself once and for all. I won't give in. I know well enough what you've come for."