one, the dwarf made up his mind that now, if ever, he
must prove the power of the faith Tess'd taught him. Motionless, but
watching the baby, he reviewed the proofs he'd had in the shack and
during his years with Tessibel on the hill. Surely, the hands stronger'n
Waldstricker's had lost none of their protective power! So absorbed did
he become, he hardly noticed when the girl came back, but he heard her
say to Elsie,

"Here, cat! I hate you so, I could strangle you with it!"

Tess was kneeling beside the chair and he noted that her fingers fed the
child carefully, and when a few warm drops of milk ran down the shaking
baby chin, Tess took out her handkerchief and wiped the little face
gently.

"Uncle Forrie won't be back tonight," he observed, after a while.

"Don't talk about him," gasped Tess. "I don't want to think of 'im."

"I don't see what we're goin' to do, brat," returned Andy miserably.

"I'll never give her back to Waldstricker, that's certain," Tess
gritted. "I'll throw her out in the snow first. Let 'im find her, then,
if he can."

Hunger satisfied, warm and snug, the tired baby smiled her thanks and
fell asleep. After placing the bowl on the table, Tess drew the blankets
about the little figure and stood up.

"Don't tell me not to do it," she said fiercely.

"I weren't going to, brat, dear," sighed the little man.

Then, the girl went to the window again. For what seemed hours to the
dwarf, she stared silently into the winter night.

In her mind's eye she could see the high waves of the lake rolling and
tumbling from hill to hill, and could outline the forest opposing its
rugged weight to the tempest. Under the successive attacks of the gale,
the loosened old joints of the house creaked their protests at the
blizzard's roughness. The shrieking of the wind, the sharp rattle of the
storm-driven snow against the glass, everything in the wild night
without, responded to the conflict in her own breast.

She felt sorry, now, she hadn't left Elsie to the mercy of the
squatters; but the thought of what they would have done to the child
made her shudder.

"No, not that!" she groaned aloud.

"What'd ye say, brat?" asked Andy, without moving.

"Nothing," muttered the girl, and she maintained her position at the
window. It was as though she were waiting for something she knew not
what. In a sudden hush of the storm, she heard, faintly, the chimes in
the library tower on College Hill.

Ah, yes, it wa