her) Didst thou speak, dame? (The WOMAN does not answer) Thou art like Grandmother, and I know what Mother would do for her! (Feeling her hands) Art warmer, dame?—still cold!—The covers aren't very thick. (He looks about the bare room, sees the old shawl hanging from the peg near the fire, takes it down and spreads it over the woman) Thou must get warm! (Goes to the fire and builds it higher)

WOMAN. (Still wandering in her mind) Berries,—yes, find berries.

HOLGER. Oh, thou art hungry! (He turns to the shelf, takes his own untasted bowl of porridge, brings it to her) Dame, here is food!

WOMAN. (Rousing) Food, give it to me, child, I am dying for food!

(HOLGER gives her the porridge and sits down on the floor beside her.)

HOLGER. (Watching her as she devours the porridge) Ah, poor soul!—Why, thou wert starving!—Na, just see!—Mother says that's what makes my little brother so round and rosy, because he eats so much porridge,—you like it, don't you?

WOMAN. It is life itself! (Her voice has grown young and strong. Sinks back again as she has eaten it all) Bless thee, Child!

(HOLGER sets the empty dish aside on the hearth and turns to feel her hands.)

HOLGER. Oh, thou art warm!

WOMAN. Aye, warm! (In a voice increasingly rich and sweet. At this moment there comes the distant sound of organ music. HOLGER straightens suddenly in a listening attitude) Listen,—is that music?

HOLGER. From the Cathedral!—Aye, it must be,—last summer we could hear it plain, and now with so many thousands there! (Leaves the woman and stands in the center of the room listening attentively) It's beginning!—(Pause) Everyone is there!

WOMAN. Why are they there.

HOLGER. It's the great service! (He goes toward the window and stands looking out. He talks on half to her, half to himself) All the world is there, the village folk, and strangers from afar, great court folk, too,—aye, and the King,—our King! And He will give a gift,—a King's gift! (She rises erectly and follows him across the room. There is the strength and poise of youth in her walk. The heavy black hood has fallen back revealing a head covering of white linen that suggests a sister of Charity and gives her face a look of austerity and sweetness. She is strong, maternal, beautiful. Intuitively, HOLGER, in his disappointment begins to lean upon her sympathy. The music grows a little louder and floats into the room) Look, dame, you can even see the windows gleam! It is so near! It's all beginning and—I—am not there! (A sob creeps into his voice)

WOMAN. Son!

HOLGER. Aye, dame? (He turns and comes toward her, she seats herself on the stool near the window, reaches out a hand and draws him down beside her)

WOMAN. Thou, too, wouldst go? (HOLGER, too moved by her sympathy to speak, nods silently and puts up a hand to hide the trembling of his lips. She slips her hand to his shoulder) Another time thou'll go!

HOLGER. (Fighting back his tears) It'll never be the same again! To-night the Christ comes. Bertel said—"The Christ!"

WOMAN. Nay, son, pray to the Christ-child, pray that He does not pass thee by! (She sits facing the back wall of the hut. HOLGER kneels before her, and drops his head in her lap. She lays her hand gently upon his hair and makes the sign of the cross above him)

(As they have been talking together, the fire on the hearth has burned itself out and the shadows in the room have crept forward and closed around them till only a faint outline of HOLGER and the WOMAN can be distinguished in the glimmer of moonlight shining through the window nearby. There is a long pause broken only by the boy's sobbing which gradually sinks to silence. As he prays, a faint light begins to grow behind him. The smoke-grimed back wall of the hut has vanished and in its place appears a vision of the cathedral chancel.—One by one objects emerge from the darkness. The light touches the golden altar, the gleaming appointments upon it, the jewel-like tones of the stained glass window above, and the rich carpet under foot; it shows the marble arches at the sides and shines softly on the robe of the kneeling PRIEST. As the dim vision grows to clearness, so the music comes nearer and swells forth softly into the Christmas processional. Unconscious of it all HOLGER looks up at the WOMAN, his face swept with despair.)

HOLGER. Oh, it's no use! I'd rather be all blind and never see than miss the vision that the Christ will send!

WOMAN. (Gazing at the vision) Look, look what comes!

HOLGER. (Staring at the woman's face illuminated by the light from the chancel) Dame! (He turns to see where the light comes from and the vision meets his eye) Oh-h-h-h! (He crouches back at the WOMAN'S feet, held spell-bound by the sight. As the music changes the PRIEST rises slowly to his feet, faces the congregation and makes a gesture of approach. The voices of the choir join the music, and from the left side of the chancel, people begin to enter carrying their gifts)

(An imperious looking man, richly dressed in black and gold comes first, bearing a heavy box. He approaches the altar, kneels and puts the chest in the PRIEST'S hands, and, that the full value of his gift may be publicly recognised, he throws back the lid, heaping up the gold coin with which the box is filled. The PRIEST turns, goes up the steps to the altar and raises the chest as high as its weight will permit. The man still kneeling awaits the chimes with superb selfconfidence. The bells do not ring. Slowly the PRIEST lowers the gold to the altar, turns, raises his hand in blessing and dismissal. The rich man rises, looking bewildered at his failure, crosses to the right and stands near the altar as the pageant moves on.)

(The PRIEST turns to the next comer, A COURTIER brave in green and gold, who enters with an air of great elegance, bearing daintily a gilded jewel casket. He kneels, lays it in the PRIEST'S hands. The latter turns to go but the COURTIER detains him a second, raises the lid of the box and holds up string after string of rich gems. The PRIEST carries the jewels to the altar and offers them. The bells do not ring. The PRIEST dismisses the COURTIER, and the young man rises, turns back with assumed lightness of manner and stands at the left of the chancel, watching with great interest.)

(A beautiful WOMAN clad in flame colored velvet sweeps proudly up to the steps of the altar, kneels, takes from her neck a long strand of pearls and offers it to the PRIEST. The PRIEST receives the necklace, ascends to the altar and offers the jewels. The woman smiling listens tensely for the chimes. They do not ring. The smile fades as the PRIEST turns and blesses her. She rises trying to hide her chagrin in a look of great hauteur, crosses to the right and stands near the man in black and gold with whom she exchanges disdainful smiles over the next arrival.)

(An old white haired man clad in a scholar's robes totters on, bearing with difficulty a large vellum bound book. The PRIEST takes a step forward to relieve the Old Man of his burden, and as he goes up the altar steps the Sage sinks exhausted to his knees, listening with straining senses for the bells.—They do not ring. The PRIEST blesses the old man and helps him to rise. He turns back and stands near the COURTIER at the left.)

(A lovely young girl enters, dressed in pale green satin, her arms filled with a sheaf of white