Tess of the Storm Country Part 13

On and on up the aisle toward Daddy Skinner, forgetting or not knowing that she was desecrating the dignity of the honorable judge upon the bench, Tessibel clattered. Still no hand stayed her progress. Daddy Skinner was standing outside the railing, close to his attorney, guarded by a deputy. His fierce eyes turned at the sound of her voice, and the sight of his beloved snapped them shut like a vise.

The old beard, now s.h.a.ggy and unkempt, trembled, whilst a parched tongue licked over the lips.

The long arms of the humpback slowly rose, and Tessibel sang herself into the throbbing bosom of her father.

The prisoner's great h.o.r.n.y hand descended upon the curly head and for a moment the fingers of the girl tried to pry the wrinkled eyelids open.

Her singing ceased, and she spoke--no great orator ever had a more intense audience.

"It air--it air Tess, Daddy Skinner, did ye think that her--had forgot--and G.o.ddy?"

Everyone in the room heard the musical voice.

"The jedge didn't know," Tess went on, "that G.o.d promised that ye was to come home with Tessibel." And then, loosening herself from the trembling fingers, Tess leaned toward the judge, a wealth of hair falling over each shoulder.

"Did ye, kind, good man?"

His Honor, fascinated by the sight, bent toward her to make sure of her words.

"I air Daddy's brat," she urged with a smile, "and G.o.ddy in the sky said as how Daddy Skinner would come home with Tessibel ... He air to go with me, ain't he?"

Her voice, raised in sudden entreaty, the long eyes filled with an anguished anxiety, sent a pang of pity unknown before through the heart of the judge.

The audience rose as one man--only a swish and another dead silence.

"Ye air to come, Daddy Skinner," and without waiting for any further consent she took her father's hand and drew him slowly through the aisle up which she had so lately sung her way.

A man stepped into her path from among the spectators. Tess glanced up, and saw before her the lowering face of Dominie Graves. From every other soul in that room she had been given the bible-backed prisoner, for the majesty of human law had been forgotten in the appeal to the higher one.

"Stop," shouted the pastor, determined to see the sentence of the court carried out. He had placed himself directly in the squatter-girl's path, and, turning toward the jury, flashed indignant eyes upon them.

"Have you all gone mad?" he demanded. "Are you going to allow a murderer to escape from your hands?"

For one instant the condemned giant and the man of G.o.d scanned each other's faces with intensity. There was dumb pleading in the one gaze, and hard supremacy in the other. A spasmodic tremor ran over the spectators--Tess had struck a note of tragedy in the affair which had been overlooked by the thoughtless throng.

The judge, startled, spoke confusedly,

"Of course, of course," said he, "such a thing as this--"

"Would make our city the laughing-stock of the state," put in Graves, his interruption of the judge pa.s.sing unheeded. "Skinner, you know you can't leave this court with that girl--"

Here a small boy broke in:

"She's the girl that twiggled her fingers at the minister."

Dominie Graves hushed the speaker with a wave of his hand, and went on:

"You have committed a murder, Skinner, and have been condemned to die by hanging."

His voice was low and vibrant.

"And there's no escape for you, Skinner," he finished.

As his voice died away, Ithaca received another impetus to curiosity and interest. A tall man in the back row rose and came forward.

"Mr. Graves," said the stranger solemnly, "you say that this man is to hang for murder. I say that he shall be given another chance for his life, and that he shall not hang if I can prevent it."

Deforrest Young, the noted professor of law from the University, was looking at Graves. A frown gathered on the broad brow of the minister, and every one gasped as the professor took Tessibel's hands in his.

"My child," and he bent lower that she might hear, for her bowed head was the only evidence of her grief, "Your prayers have accomplished more than you think. Keep on praying and pray hard, and the next time you come here you shall take home--your Daddy Skinner."

CHAPTER XII

Twenty young people had gathered for the toffy pull at Minister Graves'.

Tess was the topic of conversation; every one was eager to talk of the unheard-of action in the court-room that day.

"My mother says," chimed in a pretty girl, "that when that Skinner girl walked up through the court room, she sounded like a horse trotting along."

"She had on a pair of man's boots, that's why," said another, "but she has a beautiful voice, hasn't she?"

This question was directed to Frederick Graves.

"Yes," he a.s.sented, flus.h.i.+ng to his high-forehead line.

"And besides a beautiful voice," broke in Richard Hall, "she has a mighty pretty face--and such hair! If she hadn't been crying and had so many people around her, I should have spoken to her. She's worth consoling!"

A sharp pang of jealousy shot through Frederick's heart. That another should make lighter the burdens of the squatter girl filled him with unrest. A pleading face flashed across his vision and Tessibel's voice rang anew in his ears. He was living over again the moments spent in the cabin, and his heart thrilled at the memory of the momentary glance sent to him over the heads of the spectators in the crowded court-room.

Teola entered the drawing-room, turning the conversation from Tess to the pleasure of the evening.

"Will some one help me pull the toffy?" said she.

Her eyes were upon Dan Jordan--he rose quickly to his feet and followed the girl smilingly to the kitchen.

"I wanted you to help me get it ready," Teola said; coloring.

"I'm glad you chose me," replied Dan.

"I didn't ask you, did I?" The beautiful head hung low over the brown mixture in the kettle.

"Your eyes did," laughed Dan. "Didn't you notice that none of the other boys got up when you spoke." His glance filled with merriment as he went on: "I think, too, that I should have been a little--jealous if anyone else had--helped you."

"And your hands are so strong," murmured Teola.

"You only wanted my hands," queried the boy, trying to catch a glimpse of her face. "I wish you had wanted me for some other--"