All the little ones stood still and silently folded their hands. "Down from heaven, I came to earth," roared the sharp screeching small voices through the salon, happiness encouraging them to a mighty effort. Then of a sudden the door was flung open and violently banged back in its lock. Every one looked round, and the laboriously practised chorale began to waver. "Silence there," cried a threatening hoarse voice which instantly cut short the singing. Hertha's knees were quaking. She saw what happened while scarcely daring to look. With blood-shot eyes and copper-coloured face, covered from head to foot with melting snow, he came across the floor, his heels ringing sharply upon it, and every one withdrew into corners in awe and terror at his approach. "What mismanagement is this?" he thundered. "How comes it that Christmas is being kept in my house and I not present? I have had to climb over the wall like a burglar to get in at all. Out with you, you hounds! _Canaille_, get to your sleighs and begone!" "Heaven help us! He is drunk!" murmured grandmamma, and wrung her hands. Hertha threw her arms round her as if she would protect the old lady from his fury. Johanna now asserted herself. "No one has any right to disturb the festival of Christmas," she said, measuring him with a scornful eye; "not even the master of the house." "Aye, the devil take your fine speeches," he shouted, staring piercingly in her face with eyes full of hate. "If I tolerate your psalm-singing over there, all the more strongly do I forbid it in my own house. Now I wish to have quiet, do you understand?" "Only too well," she replied, smiling to herself significantly. Then she gathered up her train and moved away. He strode up to his mother, who has sunk helplessly into an armchair, and whose head seemed palsied with distress. "Leave grandmamma alone!" Hertha cried, half out of her senses from horror, and she covered the dear grief-stricken face protectingly with her hands. "Now, now," he muttered stupidly, and his blood-shot eyes were fixed half absently on the little group. Slowly he seemed to become conscious of what he was doing. "Go away," exclaimed Hertha, trembling with anger; "you are behaving like a wild beast." He growled and grumbled to himself, then threw himself heavily on to a chair on the back of which a _peignoir_ for Hertha had been artistically arranged. The room had gradually emptied. Some had stealthily seized their plates, others had left their gifts in the lurch, hoping for a happier opportunity of taking possession of them. "Come, grandmamma," Hertha said; "you will, at least, be safe in your own room." He started up and then relapsed again into sullen brooding. Grandmamma rose with Hertha's help. "My son! My son!" she sighed softly, folding her hands over him. He nodded and continued growling and muttering. The old lady left the room on Hertha's arm, and Elly, who had been hiding behind her table, trotted after them.