“All’s well that ends well,” said the first, who was the wittiest.
“Merry Christmas,” said they all.
“Thanks; the same to you!” answered the fat man; and all helped him with the bundles, which were all presents; and the bundles were all in good condition except those which he had had in his rear pocket; but that no one could help.
“Now, we will go home,” said the larger children, and took the little ones by the hand.
Of course they would go home. There was to be the nicest of all there; the Christmas tree, the presents, the surprises; but yet—this happiness must be long. It was so nice to have such a dreadfully good time and yet have the very best to come, so that one could hardly be very anxious to reach the best of all; for then it would soon be over.
But when they came home and were dressed and washed—with little water in honor of the day—a solemnity fell upon them. The fever of expectation which had been gathering through their wild dreams for weeks and months was now at its height, had come up to the keyhole which glowed like a tiny star from all the candles which had just been lighted on the Christmas tree inside. Now there was only the door to be opened—the door to be opened—there was now nothing else which parted them from the great, the wonderful things, except this door—this door yet to open; some one was approaching from within—there was a rattle at the lock—it was moving—the door! The door was moving—it flew open—right up against the white wall they threw the door—Oh!
At Ellingsen & Larsen’s store they were as busy as ever; those who came now were little folks for the most part, who made necessary and unnecessary purchases for Christmas. Now and then the heavy trap door in the floor back in the room opened, and the youngest of the shop boys ran down to get a new supply of one thing or another.
Loppen and the others had just come inside the cellar door when the trap door was opened; the others drew out in a hurry; but she remained standing stiff from fright.
But when she saw the boy’s legs as he came down, she yet had self-possession enough to throw herself in among some sacks of flour.
While she lay there—silent, almost without breathing—she felt completely undone. Through her poor head ran in cruel clearness her whole life from fall to fall, until she lay there—degraded to the lowest stage among thieves and robbers. Now she had to die, she felt that clearly; empty and thin as she was from starvation and days of sin the fright had palsied her; she fainted. The shop boy must certainly have seen or heard something there by the door; for he looked that way all the time. But as his courage gave out, he ran up again and shut the door.