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. How many times had Daddy Skinner spoken of dying! How many times had she heard him agree with Andy that death was better than life any day! But at those times she had beaten back the muttered words of her father and the dwarf. Ah, in those days, death had been far away, kept off by happiness unsurpassed! "It air hard fer some folks to die," wailed the fisherman. "An' so easy fer uthers. Me--now me--Oh, God, oh, brat-love, let me go! I hurt so! I hurt awful--let me go!" The heart of the tortured, sobbing girl seemed to be bursting from its pain and suspense. Her beloved father wanted to go away--to follow the wraith mother beckoning from the rafters. How could she open her arms and allow him to leave her alone in the shanty! "Help me, brat-love," sighed Daddy Skinner once more. "Help yer old sick daddy!" Help him! How could she? Hitherto Tessibel's faith had loyally responded to every demand upon her. But she couldn't help her daddy die! She knew not how! Then, as if drawn by some invisible power, her eyes lifted, piercing the shadows among the time-dried nets. And there, for one small moment, she saw--she saw a face, a young, girlish face, infinitely sweet, smiling down upon her. "It air the Mummy!" she cried, her voice vibrant with love. "I air goin' to help 'im, darlin'."