After a long walk, Johnsen at length arrived in the large field which lay beyond Sandsgaard.  From this position he could look down into the garden and premises near the house.  He could follow with his eye the broad path where Rachel and he had so often walked together, and their conversation seemed to come before him with the greatest distinctness.  For a long time he stood there gazing, until he felt strong again in his resolve.  What would he not have given to have seen her, if only for a moment!  But he felt he could not approach the house.  He would not allow any other feeling to mingle with the holy determination with which his thoughts were filled, and with an heroic effort he turned away, and bent his steps towards the town.  His mind had now regained its former tone.

The church was filled to overflowing that Sunday on which Mr. Johnsen was to preach his first sermon.  There are always plenty of people who are glad of the opportunity of hearing a new preacher, and this number was increased by the interest which was felt in the earnest young man who had attracted so much attention.

Mrs. Garman sat with her daughter in the family seat, in which were also Fanny and Madeleine.  Dean Sparre, with his wife and daughter Barbara, were in the front row of the pew which belonged to them; while behind were Pastor Martens with the other Miss Sparres; and behind, again, Mrs. Rasmussen, the chaplain’s housekeeper.

The congregation was so large that the voices swelled as when the Christmas hymn is sung, and as the preacher wended his way towards the pulpit, the heads of all the singers were turned as if to follow him.

As Johnsen ascended the narrow winding stair where no eye could see him, he felt a momentary weakness, as if he must almost sink under his burden, and he never afterwards clearly remembered how he had managed to get up the last few steps which led to the pulpit; but when he at length reached his place, and the hundred eyes were again fixed on him, he forced himself, with that energy which was peculiar to him, to conquer his feelings.  He looked so calm that many people averred that they had never seen a young clergyman more at home in the pulpit.

Johnsen had sharp eyes, and could recognize many of the faces below him; but he was conscious of Rachel’s presence, as she sat opposite to him in the Garmans’ pew, more by an instinctive feeling than because he actually saw her.  He was, in fact, obliged to avert his eyes from her direction, lest the sight should unman him.  The part of the church in which the women sat was immediately under him, just below the pulpit, while the private pews were in a kind of gallery opposite.  As the congregation sang the last verse of the psalm, he gazed deliberately over all the upturned eyes.  Some were piercing, some curious, some pious and devotional, while some appeared as deep and unfathomable as if he were looking into unknown depths.