At eight o'clock that evening, Tess, hugging the fence, sneaked up through the rain. She turned into Graves' orchard, scurrying barefooted toward the house, casting glances at intervals behind her. Through the small garret window she could see Rebecca moving in her room, preparing to go out. The library, facing the lane, was dark. But the streak of light flung long upon the porch told the squatter that the Dominie's family was in the drawing-room. Tess ventured to the back of the house, drawing near the dark kitchen. Here was where Teola had placed the milk for several days. She scraped about in the inky darkness, but her fingers touched nothing. The babe's mother had forgotten to put out the pail! Until the coming of the Dominie and his wife, Tess had had but little fear, but now her breath came spasmodically. There was danger of detection if she crept into the kitchen to obtain the milk. If she could only get into Kennedy's barn! If the cows were only out to pasture! Tess turned the handle of the kitchen door softly, and stepped in. A light streak came from the drawing-room, and she located the ice-safe through the dim shadows. Teola had told her to take the milk from there if she failed to find it outside. She advanced slowly into the kitchen, holding her breath, but her heart thumped so loudly that she feared the family would hear it. Kneeling down at the refrigerator, she fumbled for the lock. The door slid open silently. A small pail of milk stood behind the butter-plate, and Tessibel, clutching it in her fingers, rose up. As she did so, a light flashed into her face, and she looked up to find Dominie Graves towering over her, his brows caught together with anger. "So Miss Skinner is the thief who takes our milk! The hymn-singing girl!... Ah, it is you!" Tessibel dropped her eyes, still holding the can of milk. "I air a-stealin' yer milk," she said presently, lifting her gaze. "Air ye goin' to--let me have it?" "No, my lady, I am not going to let you have it," he mimicked. "But something else you are going to get." The Dominie stepped to the kitchen door leading into the yard, and turned the key in the lock. He placed the lamp on the table, the squatter waiting with fear-laden eyes. "For a long time," went on the Dominie, in slow, measured tones, "I have thought it would be a good thing to give you a sound whipping. The Bible says, 'Spare the rod, and spoil the child.' ... I am going to do something your father forgot to do, Miss Skinner." The sneer in his voice and his slur on her father brought a bright flush of anger to Tessibel's face. "Ye can cowhide me if ye wants to, but don't say nothin' against my Daddy!" "I'll say what I wish to! Now, then, how many times have you stolen from this house?" Tess looked about for some way of escape; then pondered. "I dunno," she replied sullenly.