Sivert sang all the _smørrebrød_ off one dish, and then went out with the porter to a little room where they cleaned the lamps, and here he talked of many remarkable things, helping to clean lamps the while. At last he brought out his brass tap, and polished that up till it shone. Then suddenly he stole off unobserved.
Down the street and across Andreasen's yard, walking awkwardly and shuffling like an epileptic, his mouth running over all the time with prayers and verses of hymns.
In the little entry he stood still and laid one ear to the crack of the door, listening breathlessly.
Yes, there was Emanuel prattling away, and his mother answering with a few low words.
Was it to be his luck to find them alone? He listened again, with his head on one side, and heard now another sound--a long-drawn, sucking sound, almost like a snore, and then the rattle of a cup, repeated at regular intervals. Ah ... now he knew who was there besides!
Sivert knelt down where he stood, with his face against the door and his hands folded piously. He had knelt that way once before, when he had happened to upset a lamp. So, too, Knud, the Martyr-King, had knelt waiting for death. It was the proper thing on such occasions, and no doubt looked well. But was his hair all right?
He drew forth the brass tap, and tried to make out his own reflection swimming unsteadily in the polished metal.
Perhaps he had spoken aloud. For suddenly his father appeared in the open door. The first astonishment in his face changed to inflamed fury, and he swung back his boot ready for a blow.
Sivert, terrified, held up the brass tap like a crucifix above his head, as if to guard.
His thoughts were scattered in flight like sparrows at a shot, but some instinct came to his aid, and he cried out in his cracked voice, echoing through the house:
"Oh, Lord my God, I've brought your brass tap."
Sivert's ideas as to his father on earth and his Father in heaven had always been somewhat vague; now, they seemed fused into one.
The effect of his words was beyond comprehension. The threatened kick did not fall; his father snatched up the tap instead, and said:
"Wherever did you find it? I've been wanting it all the time."
"In the cellar," said Sivert. "But it wasn't me that didn't bring it along."