Tess of the Storm Country Part 38

Tess shook her shoulders, and hesitated awkwardly.

"He air to sleep.... And ye ain't no business a-wakin' him up, nuther."

Suddenly a dread flashed into Teola's mind.

"Tessibel, he is.... There is something the matter with him!" She was fully dressed, tremblingly holding the post of the bed for support.

"There is something the matter with him!" she gasped again.

"Nothin' that air a-hurtin' him," soothed Tess. "He air marked with the fire what killed his pa, that air all.... See, t'ain't much."

She lifted the babe from the bed and held him up. The covering dropped from the shoulder, exposing the brilliant scar.

"Not much," moaned Teola. "Not much! Poor little baby Dan!"

The mark gleamed out on the wizened old face, the deep veins in the thin skin showing darkly. To Tess it looked more horrible than in the night before. But she had to rea.s.sure the mother--the little mother who, before that year, had never known one twinge of agony.

"It sure goes away sometime," said Tess.

Teola took the infant in her arms for a moment only. Moving the child caused the large grey eyes to open, the mouth widening into a yawn.

"Take him, Tess!" mourned the mother. "Oh, I--I want to die. Dear G.o.d!

Dear, good G.o.d! Dan!... Dan, I want to come to you!"

In the presence of such grief Tessibel was silent.

She covered the infant again, and for some minutes she sat by the bed, with her fingers tightly pressed in those of Teola. It was a tragedy with which Tess could not cope. So she remained there until Teola cried herself into a quietude that left an expression of wonder, knowledge and sorrow. As Tess led her up the hill to the minister's cottage, she saw that tears would come no more; that the mother would never know the emotions of a girl again. Teola resembled the squatter, Myra, with her pain-drawn face.

"She falled from the rocks," glibly lied Tess, as Rebecca placed the pale girl in a chair. "Better put her in bed.... She has a bad ankle....

She couldn't walk much."

The frightened maid quickly responded to the advice of the squatter.

"She found me," pleaded Teola, "and you will let her come once in a while to see me?"

Rebecca hesitated.

"Your mother and father--"

"They are not here yet, and I am so lonely and ill. Let Tessibel come once in a while!"

"I have my doubts," said the maid, and she followed Tess down the long stairs, just to see that the fisher-girl did not steal anything. Let that dirty squatter come into a minister's home! No, not again, vowed Rebecca inwardly. It was only the girl's duty to save a human being from a fall over the rocks. Tess turned and faced the woman when they were alone.

"I air a-comin' again," she said slyly, "and I ain't one what tells that ye slides from the house every night to the lake with Deacon Hall's coachman, I ain't. I has a tongue in my head, I has, but it ain't a-waggin' 'bout no coachman and yerself."

Tess saw instantly that her point was gained. That anyone had seen her meet the man by the light of the summer's moon had never entered Rebecca's head for one moment.

"And I don't steal from the minister's house, nuther," a.s.sured Tess, with a smile. "I brings ye some berries to-morry, and gives them to ye.

And ye can keep the Dominie's money for a rag of a ribbon to light the coachman's eyes with."

She smiled again, and left Rebecca, with wide-open mouth, gaping after the scurrying figure.

In the hut Tessibel lifted the blanket from the scarred face, and contemplated it earnestly. She had forgotten all save the babe and the student. She knew that the Longman brat had sugar rags--she had arranged them herself many a time. Tearing a piece from the cloth that was wrapped about the child, she went to the sh.o.r.e, 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. Daddy would not need all the old coats hanging about the wall, and the blankets were longer than was necessary. From the back of the stove the squatter dragged a small box, and turned the splinters of wood into the fire. This, too, she washed in the lake, setting it in the sun to dry. From one of the hooks among the rafters she took a large-sized grape-basket, which also received its cleansing treatment. After a bit of blanket had been cut from those on Skinner's bed, Tess slipped the infant into the basket, to see if it were long enough. The tiny feet did mot reach the bottom.

"Ye air to sleep many a day in it," she said aloud, "for yer legs ain't as big as a rabbit's, and yer face ain't any beautifuller than Ma Moll's.... But ye air a livin' and that air somethin'."

Hardly had she got the words from her lips and fitted the cover securely before the door opened, and Ezra Longman stepped into the hut.

Tessibel's clear hearing could detect an unmistakable smack from the babe.

"What did ye come for, Ezy?" she asked. "Air Myry all right, and yer ma?"

"Yep. I come to see ye to-day. Ben Letts says as how ye air a-goin' to marry him some time. Did ye tell him that?"

"Did he tell yer that?" asked Tess, instead of answering the boy's question.

"Nope. Jake Brewer says as how Ben telled him one night that when yer daddy air dead ye air goin' to his shanty. Ye ain't, air ye, Tess?" The pale eyes of the young squatter boy darkened under the emotion that rose in his breast. He looked at the girl he had loved since she had taken her first step. Every wicked act he had committed he laid fretfully at the door of her refusal to marry him.

Tessibel watched Ezra, waiting for him to speak again. She feared the child would cry out--feared that the dark secret of the improvised cradle would get into the hands of her enemies.

"Daddy ain't a-goin' to die," she said, quietly giving the grape-basket a touch with her foot, and deftly shoving it under the bed. Another smack told her that the infant was awake.

"And, what air more, Ezy, I ain't a-goin' to marry Ben Letts, or n.o.body else, for a lot of years.... I air a-goin' to wait here for Daddy."

"And if yer Daddy goes dead?" inquired Ezra longingly.

"If he goes dead," she interrupted, lifting her unfathomable eyes, "if he air hanged, then I comes to the Longman shanty and marries yer....

Now go, dum quick!"

She had quieted one of her enemies with a promise which she would never be forced to keep. For was not the student's G.o.d going to save Daddy Skinner? And wasn't she going to Auburn prison to see him? That clean skirt in the corner, washed and dried in the sun, Tess was going to wear. She was going with the great man from the hill. Suddenly came the thought of the babe. With whom could she leave it? Her face whitened with grief.... Of course she could not go now.

She turned again to Ezra, who was loitering at the door.

"Ye go now, Ezy, and tell Myra I ain't a-comin' this evenin', and I hopes her brat won't be yelping too much."

The next day Tess appeared at the back of the minister's cottage, with a basket slung over her arm. Rebecca ushered her up the stairs to the pretty blue room. Teola moved her head languidly, but, recognizing her visitor, brightened a little.

"I am so glad you came. Tell me how he is.... I have nearly died to see him."

"He air well. Have ye had a doctor?"

"Yes, and I have told him all about it, for I was so sick. I told him about you, and he ordered Rebecca to let you come and see me. He is a friend of my father's, and will never tell anyone."

Tess walked to the door, and listened; then laid her finger on her lips.

She raised the basket from the floor, slipped back the cover, and Teola Graves was peeping in upon a tiny sleeping face.

"He air a-goin' with me wherever I has to go.... I ain't a-comin' here again with him, fearin' some one will know.... I think ye be happier, now that ye hes seen his bed--eh? Now I air a-goin', and when ye gets well ye can come to the hut to see him. He air gettin' powerful hungry.

He can smack louder than a dog can holler.... Poor little devil!"