"Oho! Let the sea not like it--I am not afraid of it. The sea
thinks it is also an organ and music for God. It is a nasty,
hissing, furious pool. A salty spit of satan. Fie! Fie! Fie!"

He goes to the doors at the entrance of the church muttering
angrily, threatening, as though celebrating some victory:

"Oho! Oho!"

"Dan!"

"Go home."

"Dan! Why don't you light candles when you play? Dan, I don't love
my betrothed. Do you hear, Dan?"

Dan turns his head unwillingly.

"I have heard it long ago, Mariet. Tell it to your father."

"Where is my mother, Dan?"

"Oho! You are mad again, Mariet? You are gazing too much at the
sea--yes. I am going to tell--I am going to tell your father, yes."

He enters the church. Soon the sounds of the organ are heard.
Faint in the first, long-drawn, deeply pensive chords, they rapidly
gain strength. And with a passionate sadness, their human melodies
now wrestle with the dull and gloomy plaintiveness of the tireless