Madam Bacqueur— Yes, indeed. And that's not all.
To think we slept through all of it! To think
We did not wake and cry out, "God is here!"
And then run up and down and ring the bells.
Oh, expectation kindles every bush
For our Lord's coming.
Madam Valmy— What?
Madam Bacqueur— Oh, everything!
How wonderful are mountains angels' feet
Have trodden on! How beautiful the air!
Oh, everything seems different to me now.
I half expect to see the stone put forth
A human face and speak to me of God.
Dear Madam Valmy, trees are not really trees.
As Father says, all things have passed away,
And with the miracle the other night
Our Lord begins his reign upon the earth.
For hours I sit and look in my child's face
And wonder if he sees.
Madam Valmy— What?
Madam Bacqueur— (Holding up her child.)
Fire! fire!
O child, child, see the fields, the glory—
A Voice—(To the right.) Fire?
Jules Bacqueur— (Entering.)
Where is the fire?
Madam Valmy—The crowd, you see.
Jules Bacqueur— Whose house?
Madam Valmy—Rosa ran in and said some one was hurt.