Tess of the Storm Country Part 48

CHAPTER x.x.xIV

Tess saw the minister's family arrive in the small lake steamer, and saw Frederick meet them at the dock. She was watching from between the tatters of the ragged curtain, and noted that Teola had not come down the hill with her brother. This disturbed the squatter, for the baby's mother had looked ill when she left the day before, with the resolution to tell the student her secret. As Minister Graves pa.s.sed, she saw Frederick looking fondly into his father's face, but he sent no friendly glance toward the hut snuggled under the willow. The watching girl saw that the student's face was haggard, and a thrill swept over her. It was because of his love; he wanted to be with her! But he thought she had been--Tess turned her head from the window, blinded by tears. But for the child in the box! There swept into her mind a text she had learned.

"If ye have faith as a grain of mustard-seed, ye shall say unto this mountain, remove hence to yonder place, and it shall remove." Ah! if she could have such faith, only such a little faith, she could bring the boy back--bring back, through G.o.d's goodness, the student she loved.

"I air a-lovin' ye, Jesus," she trembled. "I takes care of the brat till he croaks. Give me back--"

Emotion left the prayer unuttered in her breast.

At eight o'clock that evening, Tess, hugging the fence, sneaked up through the rain. She turned into Graves' orchard, scurrying barefooted toward the house, casting glances at intervals behind her. Through the small garret window she could see Rebecca moving in her room, preparing to go out. The library, facing the lane, was dark. But the streak of light flung long upon the porch told the squatter that the Dominie's family was in the drawing-room. Tess ventured to the back of the house, drawing near the dark kitchen. Here was where Teola had placed the milk for several days. She sc.r.a.ped about in the inky darkness, but her fingers touched nothing. The babe's mother had forgotten to put out the pail! Until the coming of the Dominie and his wife, Tess had had but little fear, but now her breath came spasmodically. There was danger of detection if she crept into the kitchen to obtain the milk. If she could only get into Kennedy's barn! If the cows were only out to pasture! Tess turned the handle of the kitchen door softly, and stepped in. A light streak came from the drawing-room, and she located the ice-safe through the dim shadows. Teola had told her to take the milk from there if she failed to find it outside. She advanced slowly into the kitchen, holding her breath, but her heart thumped so loudly that she feared the family would hear it.

Kneeling down at the refrigerator, she fumbled for the lock. The door slid open silently. A small pail of milk stood behind the b.u.t.ter-plate, and Tessibel, clutching it in her fingers, rose up. As she did so, a light flashed into her face, and she looked up to find Dominie Graves towering over her, his brows caught together with anger.

"So Miss Skinner is the thief who takes our milk! The hymn-singing girl!... Ah, it is you!"

Tessibel dropped her eyes, still holding the can of milk.

"I air a-stealin' yer milk," she said presently, lifting her gaze. "Air ye goin' to--let me have it?"

"No, my lady, I am not going to let you have it," he mimicked. "But something else you are going to get."

The Dominie stepped to the kitchen door leading into the yard, and turned the key in the lock. He placed the lamp on the table, the squatter waiting with fear-laden eyes.

"For a long time," went on the Dominie, in slow, measured tones, "I have thought it would be a good thing to give you a sound whipping. The Bible says, 'Spare the rod, and spoil the child.' ... I am going to do something your father forgot to do, Miss Skinner."

The sneer in his voice and his slur on her father brought a bright flush of anger to Tessibel's face.

"Ye can cowhide me if ye wants to, but don't say nothin' against my Daddy!"

"I'll say what I wish to! Now, then, how many times have you stolen from this house?"

Tess looked about for some way of escape; then pondered.

"I dunno," she replied sullenly.

"I can just about tell," answered Graves. "Rebecca says that for many mornings she has had no milk for her coffee. And I left the kitchen door unlocked to-night purposely to catch the thief. Let me see.... I think we've been robbed for ten days? That means ten good stripes for you, Tessibel Skinner.... Put down that milk!"

"I won't do it," Tessibel whitened. She had not believed the minister when he had threatened to whip her. He was trying to scare her. He would probably take away the milk, and send her home again. But he had stepped to the wall, and taken a riding-whip from a nail. Tess had seen that whip before, once--the time she had twiggled her fingers. Graves had shaken it at her from his saddle-horse. Then she had not been afraid.... The clergyman came toward her.

"Ye hit me with that whip," growled Tess, "and--and--I'll kill ye!"

"Oh! you will, eh?... Well, then, there it is!"

A stinging blow fell across her shoulders, and another and another. The slender body writhed silently, turned and twisted to escape the descending whip. Drops of milk spattered upon the floor. Never before had Tess known such physical pain. The minister was counting the blows deliberately as they fell. At the eighth stroke, the girl opened her lips and uttered a long, piercing cry--an intense, vibrating cry. The last blow fell upon Tessibel's s.h.i.+vering back,--and Frederick appeared in the doorway. His father leaning against the wall breathlessly, the whip hanging limply from his hand; Tessibel Skinner, barefooted and weeping, with a pail of milk clasped in her fingers--was what the boy saw. He had no chance to speak before Teola, too, with streaming hair, her nightrobe clutched convulsively in one hand, opened the hall door.

The scene whirled before her like a frightful nightmare.

The fisher-girl turned and faced her.

"Yer Pappy air a-beatin' me ... I hev a-been stealin' milk."

Her words fell between little, broken gasps. They touched Frederick as he never had been touched before. He stepped forward hastily to speak.

"I air a-needin' the milk," she explained, bowing her head before him.

"I has to have it!"

The infant rushed into Frederick's mind ... the squalid cabin, that twisting thing, with thin, discolored veins. It had been for him that Tess had stolen. Teola staggered toward her father, a cough racking the emaciated frame. Minister Graves threw his arms about her.

"Go back! Go back quickly, child! You should not have ventured out of bed. I will settle with the squatter."

"You whipped her!" breathed Teola.

"Yes, and will again, if I catch her stealing from my kitchen. Now, miss, you can go home. Put down that milk; and, if I find you here in the future, I shall put you behind the bars, with your father."

Frederick counted the beats of his heart through the blank silence. He felt impelled to reach forward to Tessibel,--to say something to relieve the white, tense face. His father was waiting for the squatter to take her departure. But Tess remained with the pail in her hand.

Suddenly she lifted her streaming eyes to the minister's face.

"I has been beaten.... And I air a-feelin' so--bad! Air I to have the milk? I needs it." Tess sobbed again, and continued, "I ain't a-carin'

so awful about the lickin' as I does about havin' the milk."

She came forward close to him, with searching sweetness in her gaze. The Dominie drew back, fearing the soiled dress would touch him. The girl was making the appeal to him alone, and a cloud of color gathered slowly over his face under her steady eyes. He regained himself, and replied,

"No, you can't have the milk, no matter how much you may need it."

"Some one'll die without it," she entreated again, lowering her voice, throwing no glance at the silent boy or s.h.i.+vering girl.

"Then let them die," retorted the clergyman. "I do not believe you--anyway!"

He was weakening a little, the att.i.tude of his son and daughter striking him almost to consent. Frederick's eyes were filled with hauteur unusual to the boy, and Teola was clinging to his neck, weeping wildly. The children had never approved of his persecution of the squatters, but both of them could see that the girl had been caught in open-handed theft.

"Father," Teola implored, "give the girl the milk. She says she needs it--"

"Yes, Father," interrupted Frederick, "give it to her.... She won't steal again.... You won't, will you--girl?"

This was the first word to her since that night he had lost faith in her. His voice seemed harsh; it fell upon her, numbing her senses. Her body went cold as if a frosty gust had struck it.

"You won't steal again--ever? Will you?" demanded he.

Tessibel struggled to speak. At last there came a fluttered confession, which made Teola Graves s.h.i.+ver like an aspen leaf. If she could only summon courage to tell her arrogant father the truth! She could not bear to look upon her squatter friend, nor upon Frederick's white face.

"I has to steal," said Tess. "I has to have the milk.... I can't get it no way else."

"There! There!" exclaimed the Dominie, with a derisive laugh. "If that isn't depravity, I don't know what is.... Now, then, miss, put down that pail, and go!"

He strode forward and grasped the handle in his fingers. But Tess held it firmly. Her mind flashed to the child in the hut, smacking fiercely through the long night ... she thought of the morning, of the hungry gray eyes and the ceaseless baby whimper--and defied the minister.