"But Stephen, he’s dead," said his mother. "He can’t come"

      "Of course he’ll come," said a determined Stephen, "We must keep the fire burning for him."

      So that night, all the doors were shut and the fires put out, apart from Stephen’s house, where a lonely stocking hung beside a cheerful blaze. Just after midnight, Holly woke up. "I thought I heard sleigh bells and reindeer hooves," she said sleepily. "It must have been a dream" and she turned over and drifted back to sleep. Christmas morning dawned bright and clear, the village silent under a blanket of snow. Suddenly the tranquillity was shattered by a wild shout as the door of one cottage burst open. "He’s been!" shrieked Stephen.

      "He’s been. Look at my stocking! It’s filled just the same as last Christmas and there’s a big new sled by our fireplace. I knew it. Look everybody, Wake up, wake up! Nicholas has been."

      Men, women, and children jumped from their beds to see what all the noise was about, and the children leaped right into the largest piles of toys they had ever seen. They were all around the fireplaces, on the tables and chairs, and even beside their beds. The entire village opened its doors and poured out into the streets, the children dragging handsome new sleds laden with the most beautiful toys the village had ever seen.

      "Did you see this? Look at my boat."

      "He must have come down the chimney when he found the door locked. There was some soot on the floor."

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2a

Chapter One

The Storm

      Long, long ago, in a tiny village on the shores of the Baltic sea, a fisherman and his wife lived in a simple stone cottage with their two children, Nicholas a boy of five and his baby sister Kathy.

      One afternoon, as Nicholas sat by the window carving a small piece of driftwood, he watched the fury of the storm clouds building. In the distance he could hear the roar of the waves breaking on the shore and his thoughts were for his father who must be being tossed about in his frail fishing boat. It was not long before Nicholas could no longer hear the waves above the rattle of wild hailstones hammering at the window panes. It was growing dark as Nicholas asked in a concerned voice, "Mother, do you think father will be safe out there?" He received no answer. His mother was too busy looking after baby Kathy who was lying in her cot tossing feverishly. Eventually she rose from beside the cot and with a worried look on her face confided in Nicholas.

      "Your sister’s fever is becoming worse and I can’t wait for your father any longer. Nicholas, I want you to stay by Kathy and wipe her forehead with this damp cloth. Oh, and make sure she stays covered. I’ll be as quick as I can." she said patting Nicholas’ head absentmindedly. After putting on her long overcoat she hurried out into the cold, wild, black night, a flurry of snowflakes rushing in through the door as she left.

      Patiently, Nicholas watched Kathy for many hours until she

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