No, in his inmost heart Bjarni detested the priest; the portly figure of the man was a continual eyesore to him. Sera Daniel was a man of imposing presence, there was dignity and calm authority in his carriage and bearing, and Bjarni, having no such attributes himself, found herein further cause for jealousy.
It would be hard to find a less imposing specimen of the human male than Bjarni Jonsson, trader, of Hofsfjordur. Outwardly, he resembled more an ill-nourished errand boy than anything else. His face was grey and angular, the top of his head was covered with a growth of colourless hair, and his pale blue eyes were as a rule void of expression, for the reason that he was in constant fear of betraying his ever-present jealousy of every one and everything round him. And the struggle had marked his face, his eyes, every movement of his puny, stunted body, with a stamp of servile cunning. His clothes hung about him like the rags of a scarecrow in the field, the draggled moustache that hid most of his mouth added to the general impression of meanness and insincerity.
At a first glance, Sera Daniel presented a complete contrast.
His burly, well-fed body seemed to exhale an atmosphere of cordiality——an ecclesiastical cheerfulness which gave his whole bearing something of the stamp of the prelate. His fair hair carefully brushed back from the broad, arched forehead, the blue, beaming eyes, the frank expression of his clean-shaven face, which, however, never for a moment relapsed from the bright, superior, yet mild professional mask of dignity, of healthy godliness attained through inward strife and by the grace of Heaven; the placid, yet telling gestures of his somewhat large, plump hands; the sonorous voice with its echo of sanctity; and last, not least, his faultless black attire—in short, his whole outward appearance seemed to combine human forbearance and lofty understanding with the rare power of living a full and yet exemplary life, kindly chastening himself as well as others—all the qualities that go to the making of a true servant of the Lord.
But the simple, canny folk among whom he lived, and from whom he himself was sprung, had not been long in penetrating beneath these externals. They realized that he played his part well, and with a suitable mask, which they tolerated, even respecting him for the same—at any rate, in his presence, or when young people were about. But the elders among themselves were not afraid of unmasking Sera Daniel with a sly wink, as it were, in a manner of which he would certainly not have approved, nor found consistent with the respect due to their spiritual guide.