Why the Chimes Rang Part 3

BERTEL. Na, by Saint Christopher!--Miss a miracle to keep company with a beggar!--Who held her hand before thou camest along? Send her packing and make haste, Holger.

STEEN. Oh, do, Holger!

HOLGER. If there were some place near that we could take her.

BERTEL. There isn't a place on the road,--they've all gone to town long ago. Bid her fare there also!

HOLGER. (_Looks at the_ OLD WOMAN, _then at_ BERTEL, _then back to the_ OLD WOMAN, _then he shakes his head_) Mother wouldn't treat her so,--she'd be good to her.

BERTEL. Think of what you'll miss! (_An expression of anguish pa.s.ses over_ HOLGER'S _face, but he shakes his head and turns toward the old woman_) Well, this is idle talk, thou and I will go, Steen.

STEEN. Oh, come,--let's go!

BERTEL. (_To_ STEEN, _but for_ HOLGER'S _benefit_) Thou and I will see the King, perchance--The Christ! Thou art stubborn, Holger, I who am older tell thee what to do! (HOLGER _shakes his head again_) Come, Steen! (_He opens the door and goes out_)

STEEN. (_Following him_) Good-bye, Holger.

HOLGER. Good-bye! (STEEN _goes out and shuts the door. There is a moment's pause while_ HOLGER _stands staring at the closed door, then he suddenly runs toward it_) Oh, wait, wait for me, Uncle, I will go! (_He opens the door, starts to go through it, then stops, turns and looks at the Woman, is drawn slowly backward by his gaze and comes in closing the door_) No!

WOMAN. (_Moaning_) The path--is so--steep!

HOLGER. (_Goes to her and bends over 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 att.i.tude_) 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 pa.s.s 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 s.h.i.+ning 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 gla.s.s window above, and the rich carpet under foot; it shows the marble arches at the sides and s.h.i.+nes 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 a.s.sumed 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 lilies. The very way she carries them and bends her head to catch their fragrance shows that to her they are the most beautiful things in the world. Kneeling she gives them into the hands of the_ PRIEST, _and as he offers them, she listens with childish confidence for the ringing of the bells.--Still there is no sound save the organ music and the singing of the choir, subdued almost to a breath as the gifts are offered. Abashed as the_ PRIEST _blesses and dismisses her, the young girl steps back and stands near the old Sage._)

(_There is a stir in the chancel, even the_ PRIEST _turning to watch. The_ KING _enters. He is a man of forty with tall distinguished figure and a proud face. His purple robes, richly jeweled, trail far behind him and on his head he wears his crown.

Everyone leans forward watching with the greatest tension. The_ KING, _exalted with his mood of selfsacrifice kneels, removes his crown and lays it in the hands of the_ PRIEST. HOLGER _crouching in the shadow quivers with antic.i.p.ation. Again the pantomime of hope and failure. The_ PRIEST _turns back to the_ KING _and raises his arm in the customary gesture. The_ KING _starts to rise then suddenly as though overcome at this spiritual defeat sinks again to his knees before the altar and buries his face in his hands, praying. The_ PRIEST _stands with arms crossed upon his breast, regarding him sorrowfully._)

HOLGER. (_Overwhelmed with disappointment, softly to the woman_) Perhaps there are no chimes, perhaps the Christ hears us not!

WOMAN. Have faith,--have faith in G.o.d.

HOLGER. I would that I could give my pennies to the Child.

(_The_ KING _rises from his prayer and goes sadly to the right, standing near the lady in red._)

WOMAN. (_In a low ringing voice that thrills like the call of a trumpet_) Go up, my son,--fear not--The Christ-Child waits for all!

(HOLGER _breathless with the adventure rises and goes timidly forward out of the gloom of the hut into the splendor of the chancel, looking very small and poorly dressed beside all the great ones. He holds out his pennies to the_ PRIEST _who bends and takes them with a tender little smile, and_ HOLGER, _crossing himself, too abashed to stand and wait, shrinks back into the darkness and the sheltering arms of the Woman._)

(_The_ PRIEST _goes up the steps of the altar and holds the pennies high above his head in consecrating gesture, and as he does so, the organ music breaks off with an amazed suddenness for from above there comes the far triumphant ringing of the chimes, mingled with ethereal voices singing The Alleluia._)