He hunched himself nearer her, his face beautiful with faith.
"Ain't it true, kid?"
"Sure! Sure, it air true!" faltered Tessibel.
"Then if God's hands kept me here in the shanty 'gainst all Waldstricker could do, can't they keep you here, huh?"
Tessibel's head lifted suddenly. What was Andy saying about hands—Waldstricker's and—and—With her free fingers she brushed the dampened curls from her forehead. Waldstricker's hands! Oh, incomparable memory! How could she have forgotten the hands of the Christ! They had brought Daddy Skinner from the shadow of the rope. She had forgotten the power of those hands.... Hands of peace—hands of love! As shadows fade before the majestic advance of the sun, so under the inrush of divine light did the agonized expression fade from Tessibel's eyes. The menacing figure of Waldstricker slipped away like a gliding night-serpent, and Tess got to her feet.
"Andy," she breathed, bending over him. "Oh, Andy, darling! Ye're telling me Jesus can keep me from bein' sent to that awful place? Ain't that what ye're tryin' to show me?"
The dwarf scrambled up, reaching forth his hands.
"And he sure can, brat," he made answer. "Waldstricker can't pull ye out of this hut when God's holdin' ye in."
Andy was smiling his rare, boyish smile. A large lump rose in Tessibel's throat.
"I air goin' to ask God to hold me here, Andy," she choked brokenly.