Placing his hand upon Pete's collar, the dwarf drew him, with a word of command, to the floor beside him.
The dying fisherman looked from his prison friend to his daughter. He lifted a limp hand, and it rested upon the girl's bowed head. The other he dropped heavily on Andy Bishop's shoulder. It was as if he were giving to them both his parting benediction. In mechanical sequence the dwarf counted the dying man's mouth open and shut five times before the struggling voice came forth.
"I were goin' to say somethin' to ye, Tess," he then gasped, moistening his lips. "Gimme a—drink—of water."
Andy held the cup while Orn drank. He struggled to swallow, belching forth hot breath.
"When I air gone, brat dear," he articulated huskily, "stay in the shanty an' take care of Andy till there ain't no more danger fer 'im. Ye'll promise me, Tess?"
She enclosed his hand in hers and held it to her lips.
"I were a wantin' to go with you and Mummy, Daddy," she sobbed. "I air always lonely in the shanty without ye—but if ye say, 'Stay with Andy,' then I stays."
"That air what I says, brat, darlin'," panted Skinner.
Then for many minutes he was lost in the terrible struggle of strong life against the grip of death. Tess wound her arms about his neck and lifted the great head to her breast. She stared at his changing face as at an advancing ghost.
He seemed to be slipping slowly into the great beyond, and she was powerless to hold him back.