All the people listened, charmed
into stillness. But the boy Bernhard, on Irma's knee, folded by
her soft arm, grew restless as the story lengthened, and began to
prattle softly at his mother's ear.
"Mother," whispered the child, "why did you cry out so loud, when
the priest was going to send me to Valhalla?"
"Oh, hush, my child," answered the mother, and pressed him closer
to her side.
"Mother," whispered the boy again, laying his finger on the stains
upon her breast, "see, your dress is red! What are these stains?
Did some one hurt you?"
The mother closed his mouth with a kiss. "Dear, be still, and
listen!"
The boy obeyed. His eyes were heavy with sleep. But he heard the
last words of Winfried as he spoke of the angelic messengers,
flying over the hills of Judea and singing as they flew. The child
wondered and dreamed and listened. Suddenly his face grew bright.
He put his lips close to Irma's cheek again.
"Oh, mother!" he whispered very low, "do not speak. Do you hear
them? Those angels have come back again. They are singing now
behind the tree."
And some say that it was true; but others say that it was only
Gregor and his companions at the lower end of the hall, chanting
their Christmas hymn:
All glory be to God on high,
And to the earth be peace!
Good-will, henceforth, from heaven to men
Begin, and never cease.
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