'All servants,' he went on, 'but not all in the same service. As God and
the angels look down upon this green to-day they see gathering together
a great company of servants, but they also see that we are not all
servants of the same master. They see what we do not see, a dividing
line between us. On one side of the line God sees, and the angels see,
one company of servants--and in God's book He gives us the name of their
master--_Servants of sin_.

'On the other side of the line, God sees, and the angels see, another
company of servants--_Servants of Christ_.

'Which company do you belong to, dear friend? You fishermen on the bank
there, what are you? Little child, what are you?--a servant of sin, or a
servant of Jesus Christ?

So I tried to turn it off from myself, and to forget the words which had
been spoken. And whenever the question came back to me, the question
which the speaker had repeated so often, 'What are you?' I answered it
by saying to myself, 'I am a poor artist, having a holiday in Runswick
Bay, and I am not going to trouble my head with gloomy thoughts.'

Polly had prepared an excellent dinner in honour of the day, and I did
full justice to it. Then I determined to walk to Staithes, and to spend
the rest of the day in seeing the country. I had always been accustomed,
to paint on Sunday, but only one of the artists seemed to be at work,
and Duncan and Polly had been so much shocked by seeing him, that I did
not venture to do the same. I enjoyed the walk along the cliffs, and
came back in good spirits, having completely shaken off, as I imagined,
the remembrance of the speaker's words.