And at last the mighty tones of the bells seemed to her, to be streaming out from the pulpit thus lit up—quite as when she sat shivering by Madam Speckbom’s side, while the priest thundered against sinners and shook the hard words about hell and judgment over her head. And now all those hard words had hidden themselves here and there among the stone flowers, and thrust their heads out to see if she was there.
A man arose from a trap door in the choir floor, took up the lantern and came toward her. Upon the white wall his shadow moved like a long, black demon who was coming to seize her. She watched him draw near; the anguish palsied her; she could not rise from her seat; she was bound tight; she was locked in—she was locked into the church alone; and there he came—the light swung, the bells roared right in her ears; half crazed, she leaped up with a scream and ran; he was close at her heels! A thousand heads and fingers of scorn pointed after her! There she is, there—there, she threw herself against the door; it was open—she was out—she was saved, she thought; saved from the very claws of the evil one.
By common consent, it was genuine Christmas weather; starlit and clear at night, and just cold enough to be comfortable in furs.
Elsie hurried off to the Ark. There was a light up at Falbe’s; but she had not yet overcome her fright at the church, and did not dare to go up just then.
Instead, she stole into Madam Speckbom’s court-yard, where she was so much at home. A candle stood lighted upon the kitchen table. Loppen peeped in, but no one was there. She felt an uncontrollable longing to go in; it looked as if Madam and the servant girl were both out. She had long ago known how to lift the latch in a way of her own, so that it made no noise.
All was as of old; she recognized every article and odor in the kitchen. There stood a plate of bread and butter on the table. Loppen was prodigiously hungry, but she did not touch it; she would soon get something to eat in an honorable way.
But so as not to be tempted, she cautiously opened the door to the drawing-room; no one was there, either.
The gas-light out on the corner stood just in front of one of the windows, so it was always light in the room in winter; and lying on the table Elsie saw three or four big bundles. Loppen was so familiar with customs of the household that she knew they were clothing and food which Madam Speckbom intended to distribute to the poor in her charge, Christmas eve.
While half from curiosity, half from absent-mindedness, she was feeling of each bundle, she happened to throw something down upon the floor.
She picked it up and examined it in the gas-light. Elsie recognized the soft, little thing; it was her own baby hat—the little, brown hat with the rose-red band, which was made from the indestructible “Loppen” cloak.