crown and lays it in the hands of the_ PRIEST. HOLGER _crouching in
the shadow quivers with anticipation. 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 God.

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._)