* * *

Some time later, after what seemed an eternity of waiting, the warden
came to Professor Young.

"The lady can see Bennet now," he said.

Silently, an attendant conducted Tessibel through the long stone
corridors to the prison hospital.

As she passed, eager eyes watched her from the rows of cots against the
wall. She was piloted to a bed near the end of the room.

"Here's your company, Bennet," said the officer.

The figure on the bed turned and pain-ridden eyes peered up. Tess felt
her throat throb with sympathy.

"What do ye want, miss?" growled a weak voice.

Tess smiled and bent over the bed. "I want to talk to you," she said.
"May I?"

Bennet's face softened immediately. He thought a beautiful angel had
dropped from Heaven to the side of his prison bed.

"Yep," he whispered, blinking at her. "There air somethin' under the bed
to set on, ma'am."

Drawing forth a stool, Tess raised the lowered back and sat down.

In the presence of such misery, she had almost forgotten her little
friend in the cell outside. Just then, she wanted to comfort Owen
Bennet, to say something which would take away that writhing expression
of suffering.

"You're very sick," she murmured. "Poor man, I'm sorry!"

Bennet kept his watery eyes on the pleading young face.

"Yep, I'm sick enough," he muttered.

"What can I do for you?" asked Tess. "Can't I do anything to make you
feel easier?"

"Nope," was the answer. "I'll be dead, soon. Mebbe, I'll get out time
nuff to die."

Then, Tessibel _did_ forget Andy. And, even, Deforrest and the baby left
her mind. She stretched forth her hand and touched the man's arm.

"Would you like me to sing to you, a little?"

Bennet bobbed his head.

"I like singin'," he mumbled.

In a low voice, Tessibel began to sing; nor did she take her hand from
the thin arm lying inertly on the sheet.

"Rescue the Perishin';
Care for the Dyin'."

came forth like the chanting of the chimes.

When the words, "Jesus is merciful," followed, Bennet put up his hand
and touched the girl's fingers. Tessibel closed her own over his. There
was no thought then of her errand, no remembrance that the man before
her was a murderer and had sworn his crime on little Andy.

"Jesus is merciful, Jesus is kind," sang Tess, and Bennet began to cry
in low sobs that made the singer finish her song in tears.

"Oh, He _is_ kind," she whispered. "He is merciful. Won't you believe
that?"