The Secret of the Storm Country — John Stuart Mill — John Shaqi
The Secret of the Storm Country
John Stuart Mill · en
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.
* * * * *
It was broad day when Tessibel opened her eyes. She lay for some time
looking at the ceiling, then around her. She was alone in the room, yes,
in her own room at the lake. Something had hurt her dreadfully, for even
her arms ached so she couldn't move them. She wondered where Andy was,
and Mother Moll, and if Deforrest were home.
She tried to sit up, but the pains shooting through her body made her
content to be quiet.
Later, by a few moments, when Deforrest Young opened the door and stole
in, she smiled wanly at him.
"My little girl's had a good sleep," he said softly, coming forward.
Then, he took her hand and stood looking down upon her, his whole soul
in his eyes.
"Tessibel," he hesitated, "do you remember what happened last night?"
Tess stared at him, a little pucker between her eyes. Last night? What
about last night?
Oh, yes, she did remember. Elsie Waldstricker at the squatters; her own
struggle through the snow to the mansion on the hill; how Waldstricker
had turned her away.
"Yes, I remember," she whispered. "Did you find me, Uncle Forrie?"
Sudden tears swept away Young's vision. He nodded his head.
"And my brother-in-law's downstairs and wants to speak to you,
Tessibel," said he.
Tess made a negative shake with her head, and a look of fear crept into
her eyes.