(_Crosses the room, looks cautiously out of the window, then
cries joyously_) No,--Uncle Bertel!
BERTEL. (_Off stage_) Hullo, there,--open, Holger!
(STEEN _and_ HOLGER _make a dash for the door, fling it open and_
BERTEL _enters. He is a jolly robust peasant uncle of early middle
life, clad in rough gray jerkin and hose, with a dark gray cloak
wrapped about him. He so radiates cheer that the room seems warmer
for his presence in it. Nothing to be afraid of about him, the
children adore him._)
STEEN. (_Clinging to him, happily_) Oh, Uncle, Uncle, Uncle Bertel!
HOLGER. (_Seizing_ BERTEL _on his other side_) Uncle Bertel,
welcome!
BERTEL. (_Tousling their hair and shaking himself loose in pretended
dismay_) Help, help!--Robbers!--I'm beset!--Gently, youngsters!--(_He
goes over to the fire and stands warming himself_) Brrrrr! It's cold in
the forest to-night!--Well, (_He faces them genially_) why am I
come?--Tell me that!
STEEN. (_Exultantly_) To take us to the Christmas Service?
HOLGER. Uncle! How didst thou know we were not going?
BERTEL. I met a fox--who said--
HOLGER. Oh-h!--Thou hast seen mother and father!
BERTEL. (_Draws the stool nearer the fire and sits, the children
promptly drop on the floor beside him_) By our Lady, yes!--and walking
so fast they had only time to throw me a word from the sides of their
mouths.
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