THE CHRISTMAS GUEST
When Tessibel carried Elsie into the living room, she looked furtively
about to assure herself that Professor Young had not returned during her
absence. Only Andy should know! He would help her--he, too, loved Boy
with all his soul. The little girl still in her arms, she hurried up the
stairs to her own room, and after removing the blanket, placed her in a
chair. Elsie stared about, too frightened and tired even to whimper. The
whip fell to the floor and Tess picked it up. For a long time, she held
it in her hand, meditatively trying its strength and suppleness while
she glared at the child. Then she slipped quietly into the hall, still
carrying the riding crop at her side.
"Andy," she called softly. "Is Mother Moll asleep?"
Andy came out of his own room.
"Yes, she's asleep. I been singin' to her most ever since you been gone.
The old woman sure does like my singin', Tess." He waddled toward the
girl and when he noticed the expression on her face,
"Somethin's happened," he ejaculated, "Anything the matter with Ma
Brewer?"
Tessibel backed into her room and beckoned the dwarf onward by a
movement of her head. After she'd shut the door, she pointed to the
child with a hissing swish of the whip.
"Waldstricker's," she announced briefly. "The squatters stole her and
gave her to me."
The sight of the little girl stopped Andy near the door. Instantly his
alert mind pictured Waldstricker's present anxiety and the awful
retribution he'd exact when he learned of her abduction. He had no idea
as yet what Tess intended to do and her attitude revealed no hint.
Personally, he was powerless because, to his physical weakness, the
storm presented an unsurmountable obstacle. Except for Mother Moll, he
was alone in the house with Tess and the Waldstricker child. Here was a
terrible predicament. He'd already lost many years of his life, because
he was present when Waldstricker's father was killed. He'd done what he
could to avert that crime and paid a heavy penalty, for his
interference. What to do, now, he didn't know. How to save the little
one and protect Tess he couldn't guess. Casting frightened eyes first on
the girl, then on the silent child, he crouched against the wall.
"What ye goin' to do with 'er?" he mumbled at last.... "What's the whip
for?"
"I don't know yet," replied Tess, and she balanced the raw-hide in her
hand. "This is the whip Waldstricker used.... Jake says to beat 'er like
he beat Boy."
The cruel look on her face and the fire in her eyes frightened the
dwarf. To him, she seemed almost insane.
"What'd ye tell 'em you'd do, Tess? Air you goin' to lick 'er?"
"I guess so. I didn't tell 'em for sure what I'd do."
She dropped the whip on a table and walked across the room to the window
where she stood looking out into the night with unseeing eyes. Then,
whirling on Andy, she clenched her fists and burst forth.
"She's the only thing Waldstricker loves! If I hurt her, don't I hurt
him?"
"Sure, dear," the little man acquiesced. "Sure, it'd make 'im ... think
a bit ... mebbe."
Elsie stirred uneasily, making the chair rock back and forth.
"Baby's hungry," she whimpered.
Tess threw off her wraps and flung out of the room. In the kitchen she
stirred the fire and heated some milk and broke bread into it.
While she was gone, the dwarf made up his mind that now, if ever, he
must prove the power of the faith Tess'd taught him. Motionless, but
watching the baby, he reviewed the proofs he'd had in the shack and
during his years with Tessibel on the hill. Surely, the hands stronger'n
Waldstricker's had lost none of their protective power! So absorbed did
he become, he hardly noticed when the girl came back, but he heard her
say to Elsie,
"Here, cat! I hate you so, I could strangle you with it!"
Tess was kneeling beside the chair and he noted that her fingers fed the
child carefully, and when a few warm drops of milk ran down the shaking
baby chin, Tess took out her handkerchief and wiped the little face
gently.
"Uncle Forrie won't be back tonight," he observed, after a while.
"Don't talk about him," gasped Tess. "I don't want to think of 'im."
"I don't see what we're goin' to do, brat," returned Andy miserably.
"I'll never give her back to Waldstricker, that's certain," Tess
gritted. "I'll throw her out in the snow first. Let 'im find her, then,
if he can."
Hunger satisfied, warm and snug, the tired baby smiled her thanks and
fell asleep. After placing the bowl on the table, Tess drew the blankets
about the little figure and stood up.
"Don't tell me not to do it," she said fiercely.
"I weren't going to, brat, dear," sighed the little man.
Then, the girl went to the window again. For what seemed hours to the
dwarf, she stared silently into the winter night.
In her mind's eye she could see the high waves of the lake rolling and
tumbling from hill to hill, and could outline the forest opposing its
rugged weight to the tempest. Under the successive attacks of the gale,
the loosened old joints of the house creaked their protests at the
blizzard's roughness. The shrieking of the wind, the sharp rattle of the
storm-driven snow against the glass, everything in the wild night
without, responded to the conflict in her own breast.
She felt sorry, now, she hadn't left Elsie to the mercy of the
squatters; but the thought of what they would have done to the child
made her shudder.
"No, not that!" she groaned aloud.
"What'd ye say, brat?" asked Andy, without moving.
"Nothing," muttered the girl, and she maintained her position at the
window. It was as though she were waiting for something she knew not
what. In a sudden hush of the storm, she heard, faintly, the chimes in
the library tower on College Hill.
Ah, yes, it was Christmas Eve! How Boy had looked forward to Santa
Claus! How many little things she'd made for his stocking! She drew a
long, sobbing breath. Boy wouldn't want any of her love-things any more.
She knew the chimes were playing,
"Peace on earth, good will to men."
Every Christmas Eve, at midnight, the bells rang out the sacred chorus.
For many years, the music had completed her Christmas preparations. The
annual message had always brought her inspiration and spiritual uplift.
A brick, torn from its place in the chimney, tumbled down the roof. Its
clatter rudely broke in upon the joyous refrain. So had Waldstricker
destroyed her peace. No peace for her, no peace for him! She tried to
fit the words to the chiming notes but without success.
"Peace on earth, good will to men."
Straining her eyes into the darkness, while the angels' message tugged
at her heart strings, the overwrought girl saw another vision. Boy
smiled upon her out of the storm. Ineffable happiness shone in the
lovely face and steady eyes. Freed from mortal chance and change, she
beheld him safe and secure in the everlasting now of eternity. The
apprehension of Life's unalterable continuity--unfolding to her uplifted
thought--destroyed the hopeless sense of separation and banished hate
and anger from her heart. The compelling light of reawakened Love
penetrated the inmost recesses of her spirit, and dissipated the shadows
of discord and resentment. Peace possessed her. While the wonder of her
healing held her motionless a little longer, the song she'd often sung
to Boy at twilight came bubbling to her lips.
"In heavenly love abiding,
No change my heart shall fear."
Amazed, Andy stepped to her side. Gratitude for his darling's
deliverance filled his heart. Turning to him, she put one arm around his
shoulders. His throaty tenor joined the caroling soprano.
"The storm may roar without me,
My heart may low be laid,"
Above the raging of the wind, they lifted the triumphant refrain,
"But God is round about me,
How can I be dismayed?"
Moving into the brighter light of the shaded lamp, she seemed
transfigured. All the strained hurt look was gone. The brown eyes
expressed a deep brooding content and the bright face glowed with love.
"Tess, dear Tess," cried Andy, "you found 'im, didn't ye, Tess? It air
wonderful."
"Boy lives forever!" the smiling lips ejaculated.
A tiny snore directed their attention to the little girl in the big
rocking chair.
"Wrap her up, Andy," Tess directed. "I'm going to take her home."
Andy's shaking hands could hardly do the girl's bidding.
"It's an awful night, brat. Can you do it?"
"I'll get her back, all right," promised Tess, and she went out and down
the stairs.
When she came back, Andy viewed her with amazement. She stood tall and
slender before him, dressed like a stripling youth in one of Deforrest
Young's riding suits, boots on her feet and a cap in her hand.
"I couldn't walk in a dress," she explained simply. "Help me wrap up my
hair. I've got to go cross-lots."
Quickly, Andy fastened the shining curls under the big cap. Elsie was
still asleep in the blankets. Tess picked her up and went out into the
hall and down the stairs. When the dwarf opened the outside door, the
stinging gale slashed at the open portal.
"God help my brat!" prayed Andy. Tess looked into his face a moment, and
then strode away with her burden.
The lane was even harder to reach than it had been when she came from
Brewer's. She labored to the tracks, and struck off across the fields.
The wind stung her face with particles of ice, that cut like needles. A
snow owl dropped from the gloom of a tree, poised a moment on wing, and
stared at her with glittering, hungry eyes. Then, he fluttered upward
and was gone. To force her way along took all her skill and experience
with snow and storm. Unable to wade through the deep drifts by the
fences, she had to roll over and over the tops of them. At such times,
she put down the warmly wrapped baby and as she rolled, jerked her along
through the snow. The bitter gale contested every inch of the way. The
wind blew with such tremendous power in the cleared spaces that she
could not face the biting blast, but again and again was compelled to
creep over the icy crust, and pull the blanketed baby behind her.
When she reached the Trumansburg road, she could hardly breathe. The icy
winds froze the sweat upon her toiling body and chilled the very marrow
of her aching bones. The little one lay a dead weight in her arms. The
ceaseless attacks of the cruel wind sapped her strength. She wanted to
rest, but she remembered it wouldn't do to stop. Every step was a
nightmare of impossible effort.
Suddenly down the road but a little way, a white light spread before her
like a beckoning hand. Gathering her remaining strength for a final
effort, she staggered toward it.