In a twinkling he was around the house, Arne at his heels, and through the parlor window, taking care not to muss those stiff white curtains. Without a word he brought out a very small pocket flashlight, and Arne had hard work not to giggle as they hung the little ships all around the tree.
It was done so fast that Arne could hardly believe they had finished the job, but in another moment they were safely around the corner of the house and sauntering in at the kitchen door.
“Just in time,” said Besta. “Light the candles, you two. I see the folks coming, Herr Engstrand from one direction and Uncle Jens and his family from the other.”
Soon the Christmas greeting of “God Jul” sounded through the house, and the guests assembled at that bountiful Christmas Eve table.
Christmas Eve supper was a wonderful meal, but Arne and Bergel could hardly wait for the parlor doors to open. Bergel was thinking of the straw goats she had helped Signe make, and Arne was anxious to hear what the others would say when they saw the boats. Perhaps some of them found it almost as hard to wait as Bergel and Arne did. When little Knut slipped down from the table and went straight to that mysterious door, Mother and Father rose from the table.
That was the signal for everybody to stand up. Father went over to throw the door open.
There stood the tree in the lovely glow of candlelight—straw goats, ships, and all.
Arne was sure they had never had a prettier tree. There were all sorts of delighted comments. But Mother said, “Why, look at those ships! Where did those lovely things come from? Did you bring them, Gustav?”
“Arne’s the lad who gets the credit for those. He made them all by himself—one for every person here, from Knut up. How’s that for a good surprise!”
Arne stood there, his cheeks red, his eyes shining. No one could quite believe he had done it, and everyone was even more surprised than he had hoped.