he Dominie's
chest.

"Ye'll kill him, will ye? Then I--I air goin' to kill ye," and deep into
the face of the minister sunk the ten little toad-tainted fingers.

Frederick loosened her by extreme effort from his father's body and
thrust the gasping preacher outside the door. The student placed his
hand upon the panting girl's shoulder.

"You're wrong," he said gravely, "Your prayer was good and God heard.
There is in the sky a suffering Christ and His cross--and by your
prayers you may save your father, and also save--poor little Tessibel
Skinner." Then glancing about the filthy room he added, "and cleanliness
is next to godliness."

She opened the door proudly--his words had taught her a newer dignity.

"This air my shanty," she said. "I air sorry I hitted yer Daddy's face,
cause--cause he air yer Daddy. Scoot now!"

CHAPTER VII

For one short moment after the going of Frederick, Tessibel stood,
gapingly, looking out into the darkness. The student had gone and with
him her horror of the minister. The steps died away and dazedly she
closed the door. She remembered the day she had talked the warts off
from Graves' hand--remembered how he had said to her that she was
possessed of the devil. Just what that meant the child didn't know, but
the darkening frown on the minister's face plainly told her that it was
nothing pleasant--since then she had scurried away when the Dominie had
appeared.

This was the first time she had heard the student's voice, for he had
spent most of his summers away from home, and the fisherman's child had
had little chance to see him. He had said that the cross and crown would
save her daddy--had said to pray to the God of whom she knew so little,
and his words had given birth to a great faith within her.

Tessibel's fingers were stained with Frederick's blood and shudderingly
she looked at them in the candle light. Frederick lay where she had
dropped him, his fat white belly sunken and misshapened. The very
stillness of him made the girl round him in a circle, watching him with
an intentness which showed her superstitious fear of the stiffening
dead. Then her great love for him overwhelmed her and she darted like a
bird toward her friend.

"I were afraid of ye, Frederick," she groaned softly, "but I ain't no
more. Ye wouldn't hurt the kid what loves ye so, would ye, if ye air
dead."

She turned the great body over and sobbed. Again the words of the
student softened her grief