She could hear Mother Christiansen's cracked voice just behind, and tried in vain to join in herself.
Already she glanced out of the big window beyond the choir. On the farther side of the harbour lay a vessel at anchor.
But—it had not been there before! Surely ... yes, it was a vessel just in—its flag still flying!—Heavens, it was the Erik!
She stood up to make sure. Yes, it was she. It was she! There was the big white figure-head—there was no mistake.
And Amanda joined in the singing with her masterful voice, till those near at hand looked at her in wonder. Bramsen himself stopped singing for a moment to listen. Then he took up the verse again and sang on bravely as before.
XI
THE CONCERT
There was to be an evening concert at the Assembly Rooms. The local papers for the previous day had leading articles about "Hans Martinsen, the boy musician who has been studying in Christiania, and is now appearing for the first time in public in his native town. Critics from all quarters are unanimously agreed as to his remarkable talent, and already prophesy a brilliant future, though his powers, at this early stage, have naturally not yet attained their full development. It is to be hoped that the music-loving section of our community will be numerously represented, that the promising young artist may receive the support and encouragement he deserves."
The fine hall was splendidly illuminated. The great windows fronting the street shed a glow of light over the crowd of staring idlers outside.