Tess of the Storm Country Part 62

"Yes."

"I'll be d.a.m.ned if I's a-goin' to take him away," she flung back, panting. "He air so near dead, he air blind--look at his eyes! I says, he air to be sprinkled, he air! If ye won't give the Huly Ghost a chance at him--" Here she stepped forward to the font, flashed a look of hatred at Graves, and suddenly dipped her hand into the water.

"I sprinkles him myself," she ended.

The drops fell upon the livid baby face, dripping down upon the bare feet of the squatter.

"I baptize--" Tess wavered for lack of words. She had thought she could not forget the benediction.

A voice from the back of the church broke in abruptly upon her hesitation.

"I baptize thee, child," it rang, "in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost."

Bill Hopkins was in the middle aisle, coming toward her. Tess s.n.a.t.c.hed one glimpse of his face, still holding her wet hand upon the dark-haired babe.

"Say it, girl," Hopkins commanded. "Say it, quick. The child is dying."

"I baptize thee, child, in the name--" gasped Tess.

She stepped back again, throwing an entreating, silent appeal to the huge, bald-headed man.

"Of the Father, and of the Son," repeated Bill.

"Of the Father, and of the Son," echoed Tess.

"And of the Holy Ghost," ended Hopkins.

"And of the Huly Ghost," whispered Tess.

"Amen" rolled from a hundred tear-choked throats, like the distant murmuring of the sea. Hopkins sat down, saying no more.

Minister Graves had sunk into his chair, and on the girl's last words the congregation drew a long, gasping breath. The eyes of the babe gazed steadily on into the shadows of eternal silence; the water seemingly unfelt upon its head. The small boy was slipping away to that place of mystery where his father, Myra and Ben Letts had gone. The long days of suffering with the child in the hut rushed over Tess. She dropped on her knees, facing the pulpit, and hugged him to her breast, and whispered,

"Suffer little children to come unto me--"

Then another voice, shrill, sobbing and terrible, hushed her prayer. The squatter instinctively shifted her position toward the Dominie's pew.

Teola Graves was standing up, tall and pale, and was looking directly at the minister.

"Father," she cried, "Father, if you don't take the baby and baptize him in the name of the Saviour, you will consign to everlasting darkness--"

She lost her breath, caught it again, and finished, "your own flesh and blood. G.o.d! dear G.o.d, take us both to Dan!... Tessibel, Tessibel, give me my baby!"

She wrenched herself loose from Frederick's detaining fingers, and was in the aisle before her brother realized what had happened.

"He's my baby," she cried, between the spasmodic pressures upon her chest. "Tess! Tess, is he dead?"

"Yep, he air dead," fell from Tessibel; for she had seen the large, glazed eyes draw in at the corners and the little face blanch. The tiny spirit fled as the frantic girl-mother clasped her babe to her breast.

"But he air gone to his pappy," consoled the squatter.

For one awful moment, Dominie Graves looked into the accusing eyes of his congregation. Bill Hopkins was seated, with his face in his hands, but Augusta Hall, with her new baby folded tightly in her arms, was looking at him in dark-eyed disdain.

Graves swayed dizzily, ... caught at the pulpit table for support.

"Jesus," he appealed dizzily, "Christ Jesus."

Frederick pressed his way to his sister's side. The squatter threw up her head before him: for the first time since that last dreadful night, she looked directly into his eyes, her dishonor slipping from her like a loosened garment. Frederick's soul shone forth in the glance he sent her. G.o.d in His own time had given her back the student.

Tessibel turned, and pa.s.sed up through the mute gathering. Bill Hopkins put out his hand, and touched her.

"Child," he said brokenly, "you are the one bright spirit in this generation."

But Tessibel did not understand. She went down the long flight of steps, and into the sun-lit street, with but a backward glance at the rag-draped basket she had left under the church window.

CHAPTER XLIII

Tessibel was a child again, a happy, free-hearted child. The body of her death had fallen away as Christian's burden had slipped from his shoulders at the foot of the cross. The babe had gone to its father with the blessing of the Holy Ghost!

Then Tess thought of Teola, and stopped on the tracks, the Dominie's last words rushing into her mind. She had understood the import of them.

It had been carried to her by the awful expression upon Graves' face. He was sorry, this minister who had persecuted her father and herself--sorry for Teola, sorry for the brat!

"The Dominie ain't likin' Daddy and me, though," she murmured. "But the student air a-likin' me!"

For the next two miles she sang l.u.s.tily, childishly, with the complete abandon of a girl without a burden. Daddy Skinner was coming home, and G.o.d had given her back the student. The remembrance of his eyes thrilled her from head to foot.

Tess pa.s.sed down the lane, glad for Myra, glad for Teola and her child--glad for everyone. She was still singing when she crossed the wide plank that spanned the mud-cellar creek. She saw Professor Young leaning against the shanty door, and the memory of their last conversation, when he had asked her to marry him, made her pause awkwardly, the color flying in rich waves from the red forehead ringlets to the shapely neck.

Young took her hand, looking searchingly into her face.

"Where is the child?" he demanded in low tones.

"I took it back to its ma--she wanted it," was all Tess replied. "Air ye comin' in and tell me about Daddy?"

"Your father will--"

Tessibel halted, with her hand on the door, waiting for him to finish.

"Go in, child. I will tell you--in there."

He spoke slowly, deliberately.... Tess gazed at him, trying to read his thoughts. Nevertheless she obeyed him, pressing open the door with an impatient movement of her head. She had waited so long for just this moment. To know when the big, humpbacked father was coming home seemed more precious to Tessibel than all the uplifting joy she had experienced that day. Her eyes swept the hut; then they rested in a frightened glance upon Daddy Skinner seated on his own stool. He was smiling at her with misty, s.h.a.ggy-browed eyes, his lips showing his dark teeth with each incoming breath.

Deforest Young saw the girl bound forward, and the red curls shroud the huge fisherman's face. Tears blurred his sight. He turned into the day to regain his control.

"Ye be here to stay!" gasped Tess, sitting up presently, and holding the thick neck with her curved arm. "Ye ain't never goin' back to Auburn?"