"Yes, Tess, I see," slowly replied Frederick. "But it's not because of my father I want you to go. You have the squatter's rights, and may remain if you wish.... It is for your own sake. You are sixteen ... But, of course, the—child—has changed your life."
"It ain't changed my lovin' you!"
This was the first open confession of her love. She made it emphatically, almost sullenly. Frederick whitened, and turned his face away. In the terror of the thought that she would lose him again, Tess sank upon her knees beside him. This time he did not thrust her aside. The strong young hands pressed upon his shoulders, and the sensitive chin trembled. Tess turned her face up to his.
"Don't!" he breathed hard. "Don't, Tess!"
But the girl heeded him not. Of a sudden, Frederick raised his eyes and looked directly into hers. The jealousy that had risen tiger-like in his breast, forcing him from her, and demanding that he should never look upon her face again, yielded precedence to a nobler and stronger thought. He would help the girl with her living secret—help her, and make her better. Long and fixedly he studied the beautiful face, until he had read to the finish the tale of passion and longing. The auburn head bent nearer and nearer, the panting lips imparting the sweet breath of youth. Then they both forgot the whistling wind and the falling rain ... forgot even the wriggling, fire-branded babe in its bed.
Frederick's lips closed down upon the girl's, and the dark hair of the student mingled with the red curls of the squatter.
"I shall never let you go again," murmured Frederick, his lips roving in sweet freedom over the flushed cheeks.
"And I ain't a-goin' ter let yer go, nuther," whispered Tess. "I works, fishes and berries the years through—but I air yer squatter."
The child, as if in pain, cried sharply. The student's arms slipped limply from Tessibel, and he stood up.
"I had forgotten it for a moment, Tess. The infant has changed your life and mine.... I have loved you dearly—I love you still. But the child is between us, and always will be ... I must remember it.... Ah! I have forgotten one thing I came for. Here!"