SHERIFF. Whew—is the wind in that corner? Well, well! [Silence] Well—I guess I'll be going! Yes, I had better be going!
He goes out by the rear door, stepping very softly and putting his forefinger across his lips as if meaning to enforce silence on himself.
KERSTI, left alone, kisses the head of the sleeping LIT-MATS.
MATS appears at the right-hand window.
The twilight has come, but it is the lingering, luminous twilight of the northern summer night.
MATS. Hey!
KERSTI. Mats! Oh, come here!
MATS. I mustn't come in—I have promised.
KERSTI. Yes, do!
MATS. No, no!—Is the little one asleep?
KERSTI. This one—yes!—Hush! Hush!
A bugle-call is faintly heard in the distance. It is the summons to evening service in the camp of the regiment to which KERSTI'S father belongs. (See the musical appendix, Melody No. 15.)
KERSTI. [Scared] Are they hunting again?