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
buttoned, 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 shiver--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 pronounced 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 passed 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 shaggy 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 shell 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 pronounced 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, shivering, 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,
passes 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 perishin'
Care for the dyin'."
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 shaggy 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 horny 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 Goddy?"
Everyone in the room heard the musical voice.
"The jedge didn't know," Tess went on, "that God 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 Goddy 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 God 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 passing 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."