as
Christmas. How clear the notes rang through the wet air that came in at
my window! Back into the dim centuries that music led me, into candle-lit
Gothic chapels of monasteries on wind-swept heights above the firs, and
cathedrals in mediaeval cities. Twilight ages of war and scourge and
stress and storm--and faith. "Oh, come, all ye Faithful!" What a strange
thing, that faith whose flame so marvellously persisted, piercing the
gloom; the Christmas myth, as I had heard someone once call it. Did it
possess the power to save me? Save me from what? Ah, in this hour I knew.
In the darkness the Danger loomed up before me, vague yet terrible, and I
trembled. Why was not this Thing ever present, to chasten and sober me?
The Thing was myself.

Into my remembrance, by what suggestion I know not, came that March
evening when I had gone to Holder Chapel at Harvard to listen to a
preacher, a personality whose fame and influence had since spread
throughout the land. Some dim fear had possessed me then. I recalled
vividly the man, and the face of Hermann Krebs as I drew back from the
doorway....

When I awoke my disquieting, retrospective mood had disappeared, and yet
there clung to me, minus the sanction of fear or reward or revealed
truth, a certain determination to behave, on this day at least, more like
a father and a husband: to make an effort to enter into the spirit of the
festival, and see what happened. I dressed in cheerful haste, took the
sapphire pendant from its velvet box, tiptoed into the still silent
schoolroom and hung it on the tree, flooding on the electric light that
set the tinsel and globes ablaze. No sooner had I done this than I heard
the patter of feet in the hallway, and a high-pitched voice--Biddy's
--crying out:--"It's Santa Claus!"

Three small, flannel-wrappered figures stood in the doorway.

"Why, it's father!" exclaimed Moreton.

"And he's all dressed!" said Matthew.

"Oh-h-h!" cried Biddy, staring at the blazing tree, "isn't it beautiful!"

Maude was close behind them. She gave an exclamation of delighted
surprise when she saw me, and then stood gazing with shining eyes at the
children, especially at Biddy, who stood dazzled by the glory of the
constellation confronting her.... Matthew, too, wished to prolong the
moment of mystery. It was the practical Moreton who cried:--"Let's see
what we've got!"

The assault and the sacking began. I couldn't help thinking as I watched
them of my own wil