The Secret of the Storm Country — John Stuart Mill — John Shaqi
The Secret of the Storm Country
John Stuart Mill · en
Tessibel was working at a little table, cutting out a blouse for Boy.
She looked up, and recognizing her visitor, got quickly to her feet.
"Hello, Tess," said Sandy, coming forward a little. "Nice day, ain't
it?"
Tessibel's fear of him since his roughness to Boy was very active. She
had suffered in anticipation, for he'd threatened to come again, and she
knew he would. Now he was here she didn't know what to do. Deforrest
wasn't home and Andy was out with Boy.
"Yes, it's a nice day," she assented.
"Ain't ye goin' to ask me to set down?" demanded Sandy, at the same time
helping himself to a rocking chair. "I brought ye somethin', brat." He
unwrapped the bundle and took out a huge bunch of flowers.
"Ye want to nurse 'em a long time, 'cause they cost money, them flowers
did. They ain't no wild posies!"
"They're awful pretty," she thanked him. "I'll put them in water right
away."
While she was arranging the flowers, Sandy got up.
"How do ye like my new togs, kid?" he asked, pivoting around and around
on one heel.
"You look very nice," replied Tessibel, gathering courage from his good
nature.
"Ye bet I do," grinned Letts. "I air some guy when I air all flashed out
in new things. Got all this with Waldstricker's money. Lord, brat--"
Here the man reseated himself. "Ye ought to hear that bloke bluster when
he found out ye'd got Andy back. Now for me--I were glad, for I knowed
all along the dwarf didn't kill Eb's daddy. But in this world I find ye
got to look out for yerself first. That air how I got the five
thousand."
"I see!" flared Tess, her disapproval of his spying getting the better
of her fear. "But your blood money won't do you any good."
"Won't do me no good? My five thousand won't do me no good? What do ye
mean, brat? 'Course it'll do me lots of good. I air a rich man, I air.
It's goin' to buy us a real home, kid, frame house with plastered walls
an' shingled roof, painted red an' yeller. All what I want now air my
woman, an' I've come fer ye, Tess."
The girl's heart sank. She glanced about helplessly. What could she say
or do? There was no other human being within call. In hasty
retrospection, her mind swept back to Ben Letts. She shuddered as she
remembered the many times he'd made the same demand upon her. And then,
she as suddenly remembered how, during those days, she had been saved
from men like Ben and Sandy, and courage came again in response to her
silent call for help.
"Ye heard what I said, brat, didn't ye?" demanded Sandy, leaning back
and throwing one leg over the other. "I air here fer ye."
"Yes, I heard."
"An' ye're comin', ain't ye, kid?" ... His voice was deep and persuasive
by reason of the passion that surged through him.... "I air a little
sorry fer bein' mean to ye afore, brat, an' now I air rich ye can
forgive it, can't ye?"
He bent forward and held out his heavy hands, palms up, ingratiatingly.
"Yes, I forgive you, Sandy, certainly. But--but--"