Waldstricker glanced significantly at the other elders who nodded in acquiescence. Then he turned to the minister, still in the pulpit.
"It is enough," he decided sternly. "She has confessed her sin."
Dropping again into the pew, Tessibel cast a quick glance toward Frederick, who stared set-faced out into the storm.
"We find, Tessibel Skinner," continued the minister, as though reciting a carefully rehearsed speech, "you have sinned grievously. Your silence convicts you. You are no longer worthy of membership in this church, of communion with Christian people. But it is not right that you should suffer alone. For your soul's welfare and in the interest of justice, I ask you the name of the man—"
Tess got up again and faced them ... disgraced and outcast might be, but she must be loyal to her promise.
"Don't ask me that, sir," she pleaded, bewildered, flinging a terrified glance toward the door. "I air goin' now, an'll never come no more, but don't ask me to say nothin', please."
She turned into the aisle as Griggs stepped from the platform. She directed an appealing glance toward him that cut the man's heart through like a knife.
"I want to go," she repeated. "Please!"
"Not yet," broke in Waldstricker, grim-jawed. "It's the duty of this church to teach you a lesson if it can."
Tess looked helplessly at the row of stern men. What did they intend to do to her? Oh, if they'd but let her go back to Daddy Skinner!