NICHOLAS PAUSED BREATHLESS.

Finally a big shape loomed up above him—it was the chimney. Nicholas stopped to rest a moment, then leaned over the wide edge and looked down into inky blackness.

"Just as I thought," he murmured in a satisfied tone. "The old miser lets his fire go out nights, even such a bitter cold one as this."

He climbed over the edge and then began his slow, perilous descent, feeling carefully with his feet for jutting bricks, pressing one hand flat on the sides, and bracing his back firmly against the walls, and so slowly made his way through the sooty chimney until he finally felt solid earth beneath his feet.

He stepped out of the fireplace into a room which was only slightly lighter than the black chimney. When his eyes became accustomed to the darkness, he made out the dim outlines of a table and, groping around, found the stub of a candle, which he lit. Then he set to work swiftly. He drew out from his pack a bright blue woolen stocking, which he filled to the brim with little toys and nuts and raisins, for he thought the hungry little girl might like a few sweets. Then he hung the fat stocking right on the fireplace, weighted down with a heavy brass candlestick. He stood back a moment to survey his work and was just leaning over the candle to blow it out and make his difficult way back up the chimney, when he was startled by the sudden opening of a door, and a furious figure dashed into the room.

"Sneaking into my house, eh? After my gold, I suppose! I'll show you how I treat thieves; I'll show you!"

The old man picked up a heavy pair of iron fire-tongs and made a lunge at Nicholas, who rapidly sprang aside, so that the table was between him and the mad old miser.

"Don't be such a fool, man," he said quickly, realizing that the other was in such a rage he was dangerous. "I haven't come here after your gold. Look . . ."

"You haven't, eh? Then what brings you here, if it isn't some thieving purpose? Why do you break into an honest man's house in the dead of night if it isn't for the wealth I'm supposed to have?"

"What brings me here? Look behind you at that stocking there. The other children in the village leave theirs outside their doors, but you have that poor child so frightened she's afraid to ask you for anything. I only wanted to make her feel she was just as good as the others, that she could get gifts the same as they find on Christmas morning."

"Gifts," exclaimed the old man, bewildered, lowering his dangerous-looking weapon. "You give things away?" He looked at Nicholas as though he were some strange kind of animal.

"Yes," answered Nicholas, relieved to see the fire-tongs out of sight. "I'll even give you a Christmas gift, you foolish old man. Here, if gold's all you care for, here's more—and more—and more, to add to your hoard!"