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The muscles relaxed in the squatter's face. Her legs refused to bear the slender body, and Tessibel dropped again at Teola's side. The kiss she had cherished burned hot upon her lips. Her student lived. The minister's daughter cried for the other one, for him who had called her Miss Skinner, and who afterward helped her smuggle Frederick into the opera-house.
"Get up from there, Ma Moll," ordered Tess, "and come to my hut. I wants ye." "It air too hot," muttered the witch. "I ain't a-movin' from the bed to-day." Tessibel bent over the wrinkled face, and looked determinedly into the blood-shot eyes. "I got someone what air sick," she exclaimed, grasping the hag's arm forcibly. "Ye air to come with me.... See?
They were not interested in fishermen, but kept their eyes open for a carriage that would dash in from the main street with the rescued president within it. "Sling them eels over here," commanded Tessibel, beckoning to the slouching squatter across the way. The man with the basket offered the contents to Dan.
He hitched his chair nearer the cot and looked earnestly into the dear, brown eyes she turned fearlessly and unashamed up to his own. "He air mine," Tessibel told him, and a tender smile played about her lips, "but I can't tell ye any more.... There ain't nothin' to do about it. It air all right huh?" "Oh, my dear," sighed the man. "I hoped you'd relieve my mind a little.
He got up slowly, as if to make more effective his menacing words. "If ye put on yer things like I says," he continued, "there won't be no trouble, brat. But if ye don't " he moved toward her, "ye'll wish ye had." To this Tessibel couldn't reply. Insistent, in her panting heart, was a constant call for rescue. She looked steadily at Lysander and he glared back at her.
There was no sign of life about the house, but large hammocks swung in the breeze on the porch. The squatter walked around and around, keeping far enough away so his movements could not be noticed. He stopped under a large tree to look up at the windows Waldstricker had described. Attracted by a sound to his right, he wheeled about and saw Tessibel coming down the hill.
Tearing a piece from the cloth that was wrapped about the child, she went to the shore, and washed it clean in the blue lake water. Filling it with bread and a liberal amount of sugar, Tessibel soaked it in some warm milk, and put the sop-rag into the small, gaping mouth. She must make a place for him to sleep during his stay in the shanty.
I'll see you a minute to-morrow, Tess.... If I can't, will you bring the baby to the church Sunday, at eleven o'clock?... Thank you, dear; thank you.... Good-bye, precious little Dan.... And and forgive me, Tessibel!" Minister Graves watched his child painfully climb the front steps.
"Brat, he air the most beautifulest in the world!" At the last words he turned shining eyes toward Tessibel. She lay gazing, not at Andy or the babe in his arms, but up into and beyond the nets in the rafters, seeking another glimpse of her father's dear face. Alarmed by her strange silence, the little man bore his precious burden back to the cot and knelt beside the passive figure.
The girl had not moved from beside the stone near which she had fallen. The night was so strange, so different from any night Tessibel had ever known. Her whole idea of life had been altered that day by the word of a fisherman, and the woman's heart grew larger and larger, until the squatter girl felt that it was going to burst. Something crawled over her bare foot and brought her to her senses.
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