HOLGER.  And when the organ plays that’s like a storm gathering in the mountains.

BERTEL.  A storm?—­Aye!—­“The Lord hath His way in the whirlwind and in the storm and the clouds are the dust of His feet!”—­Why should He not do a wonder as of old?  Perhaps the great miracle will come again!

HOLGER.  Oh, which, Uncle?—­There are so many in the Bible!

STEEN.  Yes, which?—­Would there be a whale now to swallow a priest?

BERTEL.  Thou goosey!  This was no Bible miracle,—­it happened there, there, where we see the lights,—­hundreds of years ago. (BERTEL has followed HOLGER to the window and STEEN joins them.  As he speaks BERTEL slips his arms affectionately round both children and the three stand looking out.  At this moment something stirs in the dim shadows that shroud the corner up above the fire-place.  Suddenly out of the dark the OLD WOMAN emerges.  A tall figure, if she were not so bent, wrapped in a black cloak.  There is nothing grotesque or sinister in her appearance, she might have stood for a statue of old age, impressive in its pathos.  As she sits on the stool near the fire she throws back the cloak disclosing the plain straight dress of gray beneath.  The light of the fire reveals her crouched, swaying back and forth praying silently, her face still shaded by the heavy hood of her cloak.  The others gazing intently out at the church do not see her. BERTEL continues speaking) Surely thou hast heard of the Miracle of the Chimes?

HOLGER.  I’ve heard folks speak of it,—­but I never knew just what happened.

STEEN.  Oh, tell us, Uncle Bertel.

BERTEL.  Aye, listen then!—­You see the great tower there?—­(Both children nod emphatically) It goes so high into the clouds that no one can see it’s top!—­No one even knows how high it is for the men who built it have been dead for hundreds of years.

STEEN.  But what has that to do with the chimes?

HOLGER.  Hush, Steen, let uncle speak!

BERTEL.  The chimes are up at the top of the tower—­and they are holy bells,—­miraculous bells, placed there by sainted hands,—­and when they rang ‘twas said that angels’ voices echoed through them.

STEEN.  Why doesn’t someone ring them now?

BERTEL.  Ah, that is not so easy!—­They are said to ring on Christmas Eve when the gifts are laid on the altar for the Christ-child,—­but not every offering will ring them, it must be a perfect gift.  And for all these years not one thing has been laid upon the altar good enough to make the chimes ring out.

HOLGER.  Oh, that’s what the priest was talking about to mother, then.  He said it mustn’t be just a fine gift for show but something full of love for the Christ-child.

STEEN.  Oh, I want to hear them!

BERTEL. We shall!—­The very air is full of holy mystery!  The Spirit of Christ will be there in the church to-night! (To HOLGER) Thy cap, boy!