"No one blames you for your grief, child, at being obliged to leave your father," Frederick said huskily. "But are you going to take off the 'Armor of God' and forget all that He has promised you?"
Tessibel blinked ignorantly at the long words, "Armor of God," "Armor of God." It was something she had not heard before--perhaps it meant that the student's Christ would not help her now. It all came back in a flood of light--her utter faithlessness in the prayers of the student, in the pine-tree God who had waved her so many assurances. She had not dared to look into the noble face above her, but when they stepped from the jail into the street, she raised her eyes to Frederick's and murmured: "I air sorry cause I were so cussed ... I only wanted to go with Daddy."
"I realize that," replied Frederick, making preparations to walk with her by drawing his coat collar tightly about his neck, "but it was impossible, and, from now until the time he comes back, study your Bible."
Tess halted a moment, looking up steadily into the dark eyes of the tall boy.
"Does the Bible talk of Daddy Skinner?" she entreated; "does it tell as how he air comin' home?"
"Indeed, yes," was the student's answer. "There's nothing the Bible doesn't contain. The Saviour was nailed to the Cross bearing his misery to give you a heavenly harp and crown, Tessibel. If you read Matthew, Mark, Luke and John, you will see it all plainly. You can be happy if you pray and are a good girl while your father is away." Then, desiring to ease the tense-drawn face, he added: "It will please him if you write him often and tell him about yourself.... Come now, it's getting too dark for you to walk those tracks. Child, haven't you a friend in town with whom you can pass the night? It's frightful to tramp that distance alone."
Tess stiffened instantly. Daddy's shanty was in her care, and of what night had she ever been afraid?
"I air a goin' home," she answered almost sullenly; "ain't a dum bit afraid of nothin'."
As Frederick turned to her side, Tess glanced up confusedly.
"Ye can't walk with me through the streets of Ithacy," said she.
"Why not?"
"Cause--well, cause ye can't, that's why!"
Frederick understood, and, gravely lifting his hat, turned in the other direction with the remark that he would see her again soon.