"Ye don't like no ice-cream, do ye, Tessie?" put in Ezra Longman.
"And ye don't like no meetin's on the hill, eh, Brat?" chuckled Ben.
Suddenly the Bible flew into the corner, and the girl, with an oath, jumped to her feet. Neither man had ever seen her in such a temper. She grasped the broom.
"Get out of here!" she screamed. "I don't want nothin' but to be let alone! See? Scoot! Or I'll bang hell out'n both of ye."
She virtually swept her callers into the sun, and slammed the door in their faces. With remorse in her heart, she sought the place where she had thrown the beloved Bible. One page was quite torn, across—the back badly bent.
"It do beat the devil how I could be such a bad brat as to hurt ye like that," she cogitated, smoothing out the crumpled pages with loving fingers. "That damn Ezy and Ben air worser than fleas. But I air a-believin' that they won't be comin' back just yet."
CHAPTER XXX
Tess closed the door of her shanty, looked about to see if anyone were watching her movements, then she, too, broke into the high weeds that surrounded the running brook under the mud cellar. Her little ruse in giving the child to its mother delighted her. She would find Teola, and bring her and the babe back to the shanty. Softly she parted the branches that hid the spot where she had first seen the Dominie's daughter. Through the maze of brambles she saw the girl, with the child clasped closely in her arms. The cloth in which Tess had wrapped it had fallen from the little shoulders, leaving them white, save for the blood-red mark of fire. Teola lifted the infant, and kissed it passionately, bending her head over it, praying. Tess could not enter upon such a holy scene. She sank down upon the turf. The basket yawned upon a bed of moss, its flannel rags hanging over the edge. Teola was making the babe ready to return to its bed, when Tess slipped under the branches of the short sumac trees, and entered the clearing.