The next day, directly after the midday meal, Tessibel went to see Mrs. Longman, whose triple tragedy had made the woman an invalid, with broken nerves and useless hands. Every few days since the drowning of Myra Longman and Ben Letts and the baby, the squatter girl had carried to the sick woman some little offering to gladden her lonely existence. As Tess walked along the rocks, the image of Frederick Graves persistently pervaded her thoughts. Before the going down of another sun he would be her husband. Of course, just now she couldn't leave Daddy Skinner and Andy Bishop, but by the time Frederick had a home ready, Andy would be free from the charge of murder, and Daddy would live with them.
Tess never paused on the rocks between her home and the Longman shanty that she did not think of Myra, and thinking of Myra brought the vision of Teola Graves. A lonely little heart twist followed for the dead baby who had been born in her hut. This day she did not hesitate as long as usual. She must return quickly to Daddy Skinner and help keep guard over Andy Bishop. Waldstricker was coming at two o'clock!
Rounding the lake point, on which stood the hut of her squatter friends, she spied "Satisfied" seated on the bench near the doorway. Tess waved her hand, and the old fisherman signaled in return.
"Ma thought ye'd be comin' soon, brat," was Longman's greeting.
"I air brung her some salt-risin' bread," Tess announced, sitting down beside the fisherman.
Longman moved his pipe to one corner of his mouth.
"It air good o' ye, Tess," he thanked her, puffing. "Me an' ma air lonesome--me an' ma air."
Tessibel touched him with affectionate assurance.
"I love ye, an' Mammy Longman, too," she smiled. "I air glad to bring somethin' when I can."
For a few moments they sat quietly, the man smoking his pipe. Then he slowly knocked the ashes from its bowl, giving it a final rap in the hollow of his hand.
"Every day me an' ma miss Myry an' Ezry more," said he, stolidly. "Us uns just plumb lately made up our minds both them kids was too good to live, but us uns'd be awful satisfied to know if they air happy."
Tessibel brightened. She flashed a radiant smile at the sad-faced man.
"Sure, they be happy!" she ejaculated. "Everybody air happy in Heaven; Ben Letts air a singin' 'round the throne jest the same's the rest of 'em air."
In open disbelief Longman slowly shook his head.
"Myry never could sing--Myry couldn't," he answered, moodily, and his voice sank on the last two words.