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