BERTEL.  Not a soul nearer than the town gate. (HOLGER stands thinking, absorbed) Come, boy, eat,—­eat!  See how Steen eats!

HOLGER. (Breaks through his abstraction and reverts to his bright self) Oh, Uncle Bertel,—­I’m too glad to eat!

BERTEL. (More seriously) Thou art right, lad,—­fasting were better than feasting this day in Tralsund!—­they say,—­do you know what they say in the town?

HOLGER.  What?

BERTEL.  They say—­that to-night in the great church—­when the offerings are laid upon the altar for the Christ child,—­something will happen!

    (STEEN has finished his porridge, puts the bowl on the shelf near
    him, seizes his cloak and cap from the peg near the hearth and
    stands eager to be gone.)

HOLGER.  What?

BERTEL.  Who can say?  All day the folk have been pouring into the town as never before.  The market place is crowded, every inn is full.  No church but the cathedral could hold such a multitude.  Never have I seen such excitement, such fervor!

HOLGER.  There will be many gifts!

BERTEL. —­the rich are bringing their treasure, gold and jewels, king’s ransoms, aye and the King comes. (BERTEL finishes his porridge and hands the bowl to STEEN)

HOLGER.  The King?

BERTEL.  The King Himself!

STEEN.  Oh, and shall we see Him, Uncle, and the fine gifts and everything?

BERTEL.  Why not?—­Even the poorest may go up and give—­what hast thou to offer?

STEEN. (Abashed) I?—­Nothing! (Puts his porridge bowl and BERTEL’S on the shelf then goes restlessly to the door)

HOLGER. (Breaking in with eagerness) Oh, I have, see, Uncle? (Feels in his pocket and brings out two pennies) See!—­Last week I was gathering sticks in the forest and a fine gentleman rode past and asked the way of me.  I showed him the path and he gave me these! (Holds up the pennies)

BERTEL. (Rising and going to HOLGER who is in the middle of the room) Faith, real money in the family. (Stoops and looks at the pennies as though they were a rare sight)

STEEN.  Oh, I thought we were going to buy cakes with those, Holger.

HOLGER.  But it’s better to give it to the Christ Child.  You see He is a little child, smaller than even you,—­and I think He would like a little gift,—­a little bright gift that would buy cakes for Him. (HOLGER goes toward the window and stands looking dreamily out at the lights of the church)

BERTEL.  Aye, to-night we must think of Him,—­there in His Holy Church.

HOLGER.  It is a holy place, the church!—­I feel it every time I go,—­it’s like God’s forest,—­the pillars like old oaks and the great windows all colors like sunsets through the trees.

BERTEL. ’Tis like the forest.