"Well, here I air," answered Tess, quietly.

There was an exquisite tenderness in the young voice. In the white light
of the early evening Tessibel could see Frederick's brows fiercely drawn
together. Probably his mother was worse and that accounted for the
change in him. She became instantly all devotion.

"Air ye goin' to tell me about it, honey?" she entreated softly. "It'll
make ye feel better.... Tell Tessibel."

He turned away, and moved nervously until his shoulders were fitted into
a rock cavity; then, he dropped his head back with a prolonged sigh. It
was even more difficult than he had imagined.

"Of course I needn't tell you ... that I love you, need I, Tess?" he
stammered, after a while.

He could not assure her too many times of his affection. She leaned
against him, adoring, wrapped in the delight of his love as a water lily
is wrapped in its green sepals.

"I know it, dearest!" she murmured, much moved. "Ye tell me that every
day. But what else air ye--"

"You'll forgive me, and not be ... too unhappy?" Frederick interrupted
her anxiously.

Unhappy, while her whole being was transfused with ecstasy! Unhappy,
when his life and hers intermingled in one glad, glorious song of
inseparable unity! There never could be a diminution of her joy.
Frederick loved her! That was enough.

"There ain't nothin' I wouldn't forgive," she vowed, misty-eyed.

"But, Tess, I feel as though you won't forgive me this," sighed
Frederick. "But if you'll promise me--"

"I do--I will," she interjected, sitting up. "Why, of course, I'd
forgive ye anything."

Frederick dared not look at her. Even in the twilight he could feel her
eyes searching his face for an explanation.

"I need you to help me, Tessibel," he said at length.

Help him! Hadn't she ever been ready to help him? He had but to ask her.
She dropped her head against his arm again.

"Tell Tessibel," she urged, smiling.

One slender, girlish arm slipped lovingly about him. A set of small
fingers took his cold hand in a firm grasp.

"Tess loves ye, dear," came soothingly. "Now tell 'er, an' then ye'll be
happier."

Shame rose rampant in the boy's breast.

"I can't do it," he muttered under his breath.

But he knew all the time he would. The events of yesterday, culminating
with Waldstricker's brilliant offer, closed every other path. He
groaned, catching his lips tensely between his teeth. Some one had to
suffer, but the sacrifice must not touch his