Aye, to-night we must think of Him,--there in His Holy Church.
HOLGER. It _is_ a holy place, the church!--I feel it every time I
go,--it's like God's forest,--the pillars like old oaks and the great
windows all colors like sunsets through the trees.
BERTEL. _'Tis_ like the forest.
HOLGER. And when the organ plays that's like a storm gathering in the
mountains.
BERTEL. A storm?--Aye!--"The Lord hath His way in the whirlwind and in
the storm and the clouds are the dust of His feet!"--Why should He not
do a wonder as of old? Perhaps the great miracle will come again!
HOLGER. Oh, which, Uncle?--There are so many in the Bible!
STEEN. Yes, which?--Would there be a whale now to swallow a priest?
BERTEL. Thou goosey! This was no Bible miracle,--it happened there,
_there_, where we see the lights,--hundreds of years ago. (BERTEL
_has followed_ HOLGER _to the window and_ STEEN _joins them.
As he speaks_ BERTEL _slips his arms affectionately round both
children and the three stand looking out. At this moment something stirs
in the dim shadows that shroud the corner up above the fire-place.
Suddenly out of the dark the_ OLD WOMAN _emerges. A tall figure,
if she were not so bent, wrapped in a black cloak. There is nothing
grotesque or sinister in her appearance, she might have stood for a
statue of old age, impressive in its pathos.
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