, one loving look from Tess, and he felt he could start again to
live!

To the sick man the distance was considerable, but minute by minute he
grew stronger, restored by revivifying hope. An hour, only a short hour,
only a little distance further and he would be at the lake; in sight of
the willow trees around the shack. He went down the hill to the top of
the lane. Here Tess had come to him that long ago night he'd married
her. Every familiar spot stung him with bitter memories of the squatter
girl.

He went slowly down and stopped under a great tree opposite the house
where he'd formerly lived. Young had the place now, and Tess lived there
and his boy. Ebenezer's insinuations hurt him. His jealousy of Deforrest
revived. Remorse for his criminal selfishness burned him, an
unquenchable fire.

Shaken by conflicting emotions, he went on by the deserted hut under the
willows to the lake shore. He'd go out to the ragged rocks and rest, and
then he'd try to see Tessibel and the boy.

He came to the great gray slab where he'd left Tess the night he told
her of Madelene, and sank down in the shade of the overhanging rocks.
Screened from the blazing sun, his hot skin rejoiced in the coolness of
the damp grotto. With unseeing eyes, he glanced out over the glassy
mirror of the placid water. Unheeding, he heard none of the bird-calls,
and paid no attention to the intimate little sounds of the lake side.

What should he do when at last he saw Tess and the boy? Would he dare
claim them?

Suddenly, something made him sit up straight and listen. It was a
child's laugh. He got up and stepped behind the hanging shoulder of the
rock and waited. He looked cautiously around the jutting-rock, and
there, racing toward him through the brilliant sunshine, was a little
boy, a handsome, sturdy boy, and bounding along beside him, Kennedy's
bulldog.

Then, instinctively, Frederick knew this was his son. He would speak, he
must speak! He stepped from his hiding place and came face to face with
the little fellow and his companion. The dog, uttering a great growl,
crouched on his hind quarters in rage. A stranger had ventured upon
ground belonging to his dear ones, and Pete was demanding, in his
doglike way, the reason thereof.

"Pete, Pete," called Frederick, soothingly, and Pete dropped his head
and came forward, as if to a friend. The boy stood, feet wide-spread,
staring fixedly at this man whom Pete knew and he had never seen before.