Said Alice, "If we go together, Hugh, and he takes one, the other can squeal. Oh! very loud like a bear—a big bear."
"And," said Hugh, "I will get my gweat gwandpapa's sword." And with this he got upon a chair and by the failing light of the nursery fire carefully took down from over the chimney the dress rapier which had figured at peaceful levees of other days. "Now," he said, "if you are afwaid I will go all alone myself."
"I am dreadfully afraid," said she, "but I will go, too." So she hastily slipped on a little white wrapper and he his well-worn brown velvet knickerbocker trousers. Neither had ever known a being they had reason to fear, and so, with beating hearts, but brave enough, they stole quietly out in their sweet innocence and hand in hand went down the dark staircase, still hearing faint noises as they felt their way. They crossed the great warm library and entered the hall, where, with much effort, they unlocked the door and lifted the old-fashioned bar which guarded it. The cold air swept in, and before them was a tall man in a cloak half white with snow. He said at once, "Oh! Hugh! Alice! Pleasant Christmas to you. Let us get in out of the cold; but carefully—carefully, no sound!" As he spoke he shut the door behind him. "Come," he said, and seeming to know the way, went before them into the library.
"Oh! I'm so frightened," said Alice to Hugh in a whisper. "I wish I was in bed."
Not so the boy. The man pushed away the ashes from the smouldering logs, and took from the wood basket a quantity of birch bark and great cones of the pine. As he cast them on the quick embers a fierce red blaze went up, and the room was all alight. And now he turned quickly, for Hugh, of a mind to settle the matter, was standing on guard between him and the door to the stairway, which they had left open when they came down. The man smiled as he saw the lad push his sister back and come a step or two forward. He made a pretty picture in his white shirt, brown knee-breeches, and little bare legs, the yellow locks about his shoulders, the rapier in his hand, alert and quite fearless.
He Made A Pretty Picture—Alert and Quite Fearless.
"My sister thinks perhaps you are a wobber, sir; but I think you are Mr. Khwis Kwingle."
"Yes, I am Kris Kringle to-night, and you see I know your names—Alice, Hugh." His cloak fell from him, and he stood smiling, a handsome Chris. "Do not be afraid. Be sure I love little children. Come, let us talk a bit."
"It's all wite, Alice," said the boy. "I said he wasn't a wobber."