Tess of the Storm Country Part 42

"It air a nice day, and the sun will do ye a heap of good," explained Tess. "If I didn't have company, I wouldn't ask ye."

Ben Letts stared sharply. Ezra Longman stupidly shuffled his feet upon the floor. Teola accepted the basket, and answered Tess with meaning:

"I'll take it for you, if you will wait until I return with the money.

The fish are to be paid for, aren't they?"

"Yep; come back when ye can. I allers need the money."

For some minutes Tessibel stood in the door, watching the tall figure of the Dominie's daughter as she struggled through the brambles surrounding the mud-cellar creek, until she was lost to view.

Tess took a long breath. Ben and Ezra must go before the babe returned.

She set herself to rid the shanty of the two men. Without speaking, she took the Bible, and repeated slowly aloud some of the pa.s.sages she knew best. Both fishermen stared at her in admiration. To read and not spell out almost every word was more than Ezra's own mother could do, and she was the best-educated person in the settlement.

"'But I know ye that ye have not the love of G.o.d in ye,'" read Tess.

Ben Letts broke in upon the girl's voice:

"Tessie, will ye row on the lake after the goin' down of the sun? I'll take my fiddle.... Ye like my fiddlin', don't ye, Tess?"

"Nope," she replied, her eyes still upon the book. "'I am come in my Father's name, and ye--'"

Ezra interrupted the unfinished verse.

"Tessibel, will ye go to the meetin' at Haytes'? The man says as how the squatters air welcome."

"Nope.... 'receive me not,'" read Tess. "'If another shall come--'"

Ben burst forth with an eager invitation:

"Will ye come to Glenwood for some ice-cream, Tessie? It air gooder'n pie on hot nights; and ye like my fiddlin', don't ye, Tess?"

"Nope.... 'In His own name, ye will--'"

"Ye don't like no ice-cream, do ye, Tessie?" put in Ezra Longman.

"And ye don't like no meetin's on the hill, eh, Brat?" chuckled Ben.

Suddenly the Bible flew into the corner, and the girl, with an oath, jumped to her feet. Neither man had ever seen her in such a temper. She grasped the broom.

"Get out of here!" she screamed. "I don't want nothin' but to be let alone! See? Scoot! Or I'll bang h.e.l.l out'n both of ye."

She virtually swept her callers into the sun, and slammed the door in their faces. With remorse in her heart, she sought the place where she had thrown the beloved Bible. One page was quite torn, across--the back badly bent.

"It do beat the devil how I could be such a bad brat as to hurt ye like that," she cogitated, smoothing out the crumpled pages with loving fingers. "That d.a.m.n Ezy and Ben air worser than fleas. But I air a-believin' that they won't be comin' back just yet."

CHAPTER x.x.x

Tess closed the door of her shanty, looked about to see if anyone were watching her movements, then she, too, broke into the high weeds that surrounded the running brook under the mud cellar. Her little ruse in giving the child to its mother delighted her. She would find Teola, and bring her and the babe back to the shanty. Softly she parted the branches that hid the spot where she had first seen the Dominie's daughter. Through the maze of brambles she saw the girl, with the child clasped closely in her arms. The cloth in which Tess had wrapped it had fallen from the little shoulders, leaving them white, save for the blood-red mark of fire. Teola lifted the infant, and kissed it pa.s.sionately, bending her head over it, praying. Tess could not enter upon such a holy scene. She sank down upon the turf. The basket yawned upon a bed of moss, its flannel rags hanging over the edge. Teola was making the babe ready to return to its bed, when Tess slipped under the branches of the short sumac trees, and entered the clearing.

"Come back to the shanty," she said. "Ye be here too long."

"I can't. I must go home, Tessibel.... I could hardly get away as it was. Oh, Tess, isn't he beautiful?... Don't you think the mark will soon go away? What makes him open his mouth so much? Possibly the sugar rag is too large."

"Nope, 'tain't that. He be tired, and that air what makes him gape like that. Wait until he gets some bigness. He air little yet."

"I haven't asked you, Tess," and Teola turned troubled eyes upon the squatter, "I haven't been able to ask you how you feed him. And where do you get the milk?... Oh, if I only had some money! When mother is home, I do get a little. But Rebecca won't give me a cent. Tessibel, where do you get the milk?"

The babe was still clasped in her arms.

"I crib it from the cows at Kennedy's. They all has too much for their calves, anyhow."

"You mean you steal it, Tess?" asked Teola fearfully. "Oh, Tessibel! Oh!

Oh, Tess, Tess, how good you are!"

"I ain't good," Tess retorted. "It ain't good to steal, air it? And squatters ain't never good, they ain't. But the brat's got to eat, ain't he? If I ain't got no milk, then I has to crib it. See?"

Bitter tears were falling upon the head of little Dan. They were the mother's first tears since that day when Tess had led her up the hill to the summer cottage.

"But Kennedy will shut his cows up soon," announced the squatter. "Then I don't know what to do. The brat air too little to eat fish, he air."

Suddenly Teola conceived an idea.

"If I should put out a little milk behind the house, in a pail, could you come after it, Tessibel?"

"Yep," replied Tess eagerly. "I could crib it from your yard, if ye'll let me."

"Yes, yes; that's the way to do," replied Teola, with a faint smile. "If I can't get the milk out, you go into the kitchen. Simply take all you can get. Take all you want. My father and mother will be home soon.

They know by this time I am ill. My brother also gets back from camping at the same time. You see how careful I shall have to be, Tessibel. And in September, we go back to the city, for school always takes us home then. If I could only have my own baby. My own precious baby!"

Tessibel grunted. Teola misunderstood her.

"Oh, I am grateful to you, dear! I think that you are the best girl in all the world. So does my brother Frederick. He says--"

She stooped to cover the child, her voice ceasing.

The babe had been carefully tucked in.

"He's a been sayin' what?" The tones of the squatter were eager, her eyes so bright that Teola did not answer for a moment.

"He says that there is no girl as good as you, and that your faith in G.o.d is what he would rather have than anything else in the world.... Oh, Tess, if I could only believe, and be sure that soon the baby and I could go to--his father!"

"If ye asks, ye can go," replied Tess solemnly. "The student says what ye asks with faith ye'll get. Ain't that enough to prove it?"

This fell reverently from the lips of the girl. Faith in Frederick rather than faith in G.o.d had given birth to her believing soul. But neither girl realized it. Both were silent for some minutes. Teola was looking dreamily at the opposite hill, the basket with its precious burden already hanging on the squatter's arm. Tess had learned that such loud smacks as the infant was giving were indicative of hunger. So she made a move to go.