never, in any case, over a more solemn one. There was as much stir in that solitary churchyard as in a market place. People were encamped on the gravestones; they shouted to each other across the graves, and on every side there was so much noise and talk, that the bells could hardly be heard.
The weaver wandered about in this excited assemblage, smiling quietly like a cat in a dairy. He felt that he commanded the situation to-day. In every-day life the people of Skibberup might grumble at his peculiar ways; but in times of trouble, they gathered round him with unshakeable faith—and hitherto he had led them from victory to victory. Rumour had for once spoken the truth, and to-day he was prepared for a master-stroke.
At the first moment, when the Provst's announcement made it plain that he meant to open the battle fully accoutred, there had been some difference of opinion as to how he was to be met. The young people wished to keep away from church entirely, as they had done before, and leave the Provst to rage to empty benches; and then, after the service, meet him on the road and hoot. But at a meeting it was decided to adopt a proposal of the weaver's, to muster in numbers at the service so as to have as many witnesses as possible against the Provst, should he—as was thought probable—overstep the bounds of propriety. It was now their intention
