STEEN. (Drawing back from the window and crossing the room to the fire) Oh, Holger, I'm afraid!
HOLGER. No, no! Look, she has turned away,—she's deeper in the shadow,—why, she's gone! (Following STEEN with all his bright courage bubbling high again, and speaks in a bantering tone) Just some old granny going down to town, and thou afraid!
STEEN. (Recovering also) And thou afraid!
HOLGER. I was not!
STEEN. (Derisively) Oh-h-h-h!
HOLGER. Well, I was just a little bit afraid—lest she might frighten thee. (Steps are heard outside the house. Both boys start and look frightened again) Hush,—steps—coming here!
STEEN. (Backing from the door) The old woman!
HOLGER. (Crosses the room, looks cautiously out of the window, then cries joyously) No,—Uncle Bertel!
BERTEL. (Off stage) Hullo, there,—open, Holger!
(STEEN and HOLGER make a dash for the door, fling it open and BERTEL enters. He is a jolly robust peasant uncle of early middle life, clad in rough gray jerkin and hose, with a dark gray cloak wrapped about him. He so radiates cheer that the room seems warmer for his presence in it. Nothing to be afraid of about him, the children adore him.)