Tess of the Storm Country Part 12

"He air comin' home, then?"

There was a question in the pleading voice as her eyes fell first upon one and then another.

"Nope," grinned Ezry, "he air to be took away."

Tessibel shrank back further and further, every muscle tired in its agony of burden-bearing. The rotten post squeaked loudly, bending beneath her weight, and over her in lightning rapidity swept the shadow of the rope, s.n.a.t.c.hing her father from her--and G.o.d. The student had not limited the power of the cross; but Tess had discovered its limitations in Ezra Longman's statement--limitations that made her quiver with pain, as she pictured the evil thing which darkly menaced her loved one.

"He air a d.a.m.n liar," burst forth Jake Brewer, "the jedge ain't said no words what Ezy says he has."

Tessibel heard and understood. The splendid, buoyant youth gathered instantly together, faith in the eternal promise of G.o.d sweeping over her once more. She might have known that Daddy was safe. Every long day had been filled with pet.i.tions, hurled at the feet of the Almighty: Tess, in her ignorance, had juggled with the sacred name of Jehovah, expecting the fulfillment of her prayers just as a boy, filled with ecstatic faith, expects his ball to come back to him after he has tossed it into the air. So would Daddy Skinner come to her, s.n.a.t.c.hed from the shadow of an ignominious death, through some miracle of G.o.d's goodness.

"It air over to-morry?" she stammered, holding no grudge against Ezra Longman for his untimely joke.

"Yep."

"Then he air comin' home to-morry night?" she said almost in a whisper.

Ben Letts, looking at Ezra, closed one red lid, letting it fall slowly over the blurred blind eye. Neither he nor the boy spoke.

Letts brought his squint gaze back to Tess.

"He air comin' home to-morry night?" she repeated questioningly, raising her voice a little with an insistent glance at each fisherman. This time Tess read denial in their faces, but smiled radiantly. What did they knew about it? What did fishermen understand of the student's G.o.d ... of the faith that would bring Daddy home to her in spite of the twelve grim men, and all her father's enemies in Ithaca. Hadn't she consigned the beloved humpbacked father to Him who held the worlds in the hollow of His hand.

Ben Letts still gazed steadily at Tess, the red eyelids opening wider and wider. She had never been so beautiful before. During the past two months the girl had grown into a woman, into a soulful creature whom the squatter Ben ardently desired for his wife. Ah, he would see to that!

He shoved his great legs up and down before him tumbling these things over in his mind. The taming of such a girl would be his vicious delight. The first thing to do would be to ply the scissors to the red curls. Ben could see that the hair was clean, each curl clinging lovingly to its mate, yet living apart--so different from the matted locks of the Tess he had always known.

"Yer Daddy got good and mad to-day," remarked Jake Brewer abruptly, the deadly silence grating upon his nerves.

"What about?" said Tess sharply.

"Dominie Graves were in the witness-box, and said as how yer pap were a wicked daddy of a wickeder gal, and the jedge made him tell as how ye was so cussed, and yer daddy's humps riz up like a cat's back wet with cold tea."

Tess waited expectantly.

"And the Dominie said as how ye twiggled yer fingers to yer nose at him," continued Jake. "Did ye?"

The pale face went to a deep crimson--she remembered the day well. The Dominie had caught her stealing berries and like all the weaker ones in a strife Tess had used her tongue bitterly--and had twiggled her fingers.

The squatters went away, leaving Tessibel with a new feeling of shame.

Ben Letts went with reluctance--he dared not remain. After Skinner had gone the way of all squatters who incurred the penalties of the law, he, Ben Letts, would have the girl for weal or woe.

CHAPTER XI

The last day of Skinner's trial found Tessibel taking her lonely way toward town. She was going for Daddy Skinner--to bring him home to a shanty which she thought was clean, although the ragged curtain still flapped its tatters over a dirty window and the cobwebs hung listlessly from Daddy Skinner's unused net. But Tess had done her best, and her heart sang with delightful expectancy as she neared the dangerous open trestle which spanned the Hoghole gorge.

When she turned into town, her mind was at work with the thought of how she would bring Daddy triumphantly through the row of squatter huts, lead him even through the streets of Ithaca. Her vivid imagination played with the scene: Frederick the student would see her; he would know that together they had saved the dearest life ever given into the hands of a jury.

Up the snow-covered street, through Dewitt park, and Into the little lane she tramped. Here Tessibel halted. The court-room was so crowded that an overflow of men stood in the street with overcoats tightly b.u.t.toned, stood listening for the words that would satisfy their demands: Orn Skinner must die. A demonstration of joy ringing from the court made the child s.h.i.+ver--then smile. Not even the wicked jeering of Daddy's enemies could shake her faith in the student's word. Twelve jurors sat in their chairs, but a useless set of men, for a unanimous ban of death had been p.r.o.nounced upon the fisherman before any one of the jury had taken the oath. Some of the evidence did not reach their ears for they were thinking of other things--the man of two humps was as far away from their homes or their hopes, as the rope that would end him.

During the trial the prisoner had remained silent in his chair, with a stolidity that aroused no sympathy for him. Not once was he seen to lift his eyes to the judge; and but once, when Tess was being maligned by Dominie Graves, did the bible-back rise and fall as if the heart beneath were beating wildly. Skinner had not been allowed to testify in his own defense, and, knowing the futility of it, he had not insisted upon speaking.

His attorney made a few feeble remarks which, because of the speaker's indifference and his disbelief in his client, fell without effect. The prosecuting attorney took but ten minutes to sum up the case, telling the jury that they knew their duty too well for him to attempt to instruct them. "But," said he, "I will add one word of your own convictions. These people have infested our beautiful city, sapping its life like a great pest. The law is nothing to them--human life less.

There is one thing, gentlemen of the jury, of which they stand in awe, and it is in your hands to give them one more lesson. That one thing they fear is--the rope."

He sat down amid a dense silence. The judge spoke shortly and the twelve jurors filed out past the stooping prisoner, who seemed to care so little that he did not look upon them as they went.

Twenty minutes elapsed and the court officer announced in stentorian tones that the verdict had been reached. Solemnly the twelve men seated themselves whilst an expectant flutter pa.s.sed over the room.

Then a voice droned:

"Prisoner, rise."

The lumbering form painfully raised its two humps.

"Prisoner, look upon the jury; jury, look upon the prisoner."

The grizzled head settled itself back between the two pulsing humps; the steady eyes under the s.h.a.ggy brows looking out for the first time in two days upon the row of men who hated him--all popular citizens of Ithaca.

"Foreman, of the jury, have you found the prisoner innocent or guilty?"

A pause, a hush; then a deliberate:

"Guilty of murder in the first degree."

A little higher rose the bible-back of the fisherman, lower sunk the large head between the deformed shoulders, like the receding head of a turtle, hiding itself under its sh.e.l.l when an enemy draws near. Skinner still stood with hypnotized eyes fastened on the jury; one thought in his mind--Tess.

"Orn Skinner," began the judge, "is there any reason why the sentence of this court should not be p.r.o.nounced upon you in accordance with the law?"

The fisherman turned his piercing eyes upon the judge, but attempted not to speak.

"Orn Skinner--"

The judge was interrupted, there was a disturbing commotion in the back of the court-room. He lifted his gavel for silence, his gaze falling upon a dripping, s.h.i.+vering, red-haired girl, who raised to his face a pair of copper-colored eyes in which shone a soul, the magnitude of which the judge could not fathom with all his dignity.

"Orn Skinner," he finished, turning again to the fisherman, "twelve men have found you guilty of murder in the first degree. The court, then, pa.s.ses its sentence upon you: you are to hang by the neck until you are--dead."

The ponderous form of the doomed man straightened as though unafraid, whilst the commotion increased--Tess was madly tearing her way through detaining hands. Once free, she started up the aisle, the most ridiculous little figure ever seen in Ithaca. The red hair was in curls to the girl's hips--the young form covered with but a calico blouse confined about the waist by a piece of hemp rope. Four huge thorns held together the edges of a rent down the center of the skirt, which came just above the knees, Daddy Skinner's cowhide boots lifting themselves under the hem.

Every one save him whom she loved was unseen by Tess, and everything unheard save the terrible sentence of death.

The pain-puckered wrinkles settled out of the wan little face; a smile brightened the brown eyes and dimpled the tender twitching mouth, altering the woful expression--for what was the mandate of an earthly judge compared to the majestic promise of Heaven? the student had said--but her smiling eyes fell for a moment on those of Frederick Graves. The boy partly rose but sank back again, white to the ears, a picture of mental suffering. Here through the silence came a shock to the citizens of Ithaca. Sweet as a spring bird carolling its love song rose Tessibel's beautiful voice:

"Rescue the peris.h.i.+n'

Care for the dyin'."