At the top of the hill, opposite the Stebbins' homestead, she crouched down to rest a moment. Once, she thought she heard a horse. It might have been, but if so, the animal had passed, for no longer could she hear the thud of hoofs upon the snow road. Then, something touched her, and she turned her eyes upward. There, in the sky, was a moon—Was it her moon, that pale riding thing, taking its way through the white clouds? How cold it looked, and how cold it was! She shivered, settled a little in her coat and closed her eyes. A moment later, something brushed her hand. Slowly, the long red-brown lashes lifted and the red-brown eyes settled upon a figure bending over her, a figure, white like one of Mother Moll's conjured ghosts. Tessibel wanted to go to sleep. Why had the night stranger touched her, just then? Oh, she was out in the snow. A person ought never to lie down in the snow. Daddy Skinner had told her so many times. She mustn't sleep. She must get up instantly—but—her legs were too stiff, too difficult to move. Then, the figure faded slowly from her vision. How heavy her chest felt. A moonbeam lay slant-wise across it. That couldn't be so heavy, just a bit of the moonlight. Why, of course, something else was cradled in the white beam. Tess looked closer. A babe, as fair as an unblemished rose leaf, lay straight across her breast and considered her with unfathomable, interested eyes.... It was Boy—her Boy—she had him back again. Then, he hadn't been put in a little box in the ground beside Daddy Skinner. She managed to raise one arm and drop it across the small body. How lovely he was, this moonbeam babe, so white, so gentle and dark-haired.
Tessibel was warmer since he had come to her; her arms no longer trembled, but her legs seemed to have lost their desire to walk. She felt glad of that, too, because she was too tired to walk, anyway, and the baby was very sweet. Then, once more, a long shadow came between her and the moon and someone bent over her. Ah, 'twas Daddy Skinner, the same beloved, heavy humped-shoulders—the same precious face, and he was fondling the moon baby, and twice kissed her with tender, twitching lips. She smiled happily and moved a little in the snow. She tried to catch Daddy's hand, tried to call his dear name, but only a little sound came from her tightened, frozen throat. Then, smiling, Daddy Skinner went back to the moon, and Tess, drowsily, cuddled the white babling closer, and went to sleep.
Deforrest Young brought his horse to an abrupt standstill. Had he heard a faint sound off there in the path? With a sudden spring, he dismounted. Over near the fence, he thought he had seen through the streak of light a human hand move upward and then sink into the snow. He paused a moment and shuddered. Had he lost his senses through the suffering the week had brought him? He shook himself and turned to his horse again. No silly vision should drag him across a snowdrift on such a night. He was going home to Tessibel. In hesitant quandary, he still stood staring west to the rail fence. Then, something impelled him to do the very thing he had decided would be fruitless.
One bound took him through the piles of snow at the side of the road. The lawyer bent down, his heart tightening with fear. A human being lay close to the fence. Young quickly pulled the face into the moonlight. The quiet, death-like form was Tessibel Skinner.
A huge sob tore its way from the lawyer's throat, and burst fiercely through his teeth. Was she dead, his dearest who had received evil, perhaps death, for the good she had done?
Above his head the limbs of a great tree sang their song of winter to the night. Deforrest remembered Tess had always loved the whispering of the wind. A low cry followed by words fell from his lips.
"Love air everywhere the hull time," he sobbed. "Oh, Love, Divine, merciful Love, protect my pretty child!"
In another sixty seconds he was pounding through the snow road toward the lake with a sleeping red-haired girl in his arms.