Leaning over him, Tess whispered, "Jesus is always kind."
"I done the murder," repeated Bennet. "Let Andy go, and tell 'im I'm sorry.... Here, let me write my name to the paper."
It took many efforts for the cramped fingers to scrawl the words, but "Owen Bennet" was legibly written when the man dropped back, exhausted.
The warden folded the paper and, smiling, put it into his pocket.
"I've always believed he did it, Miss Skinner," he confided to Tess. "Now, come away."
Bennet's ears caught the last words. In dying effort, he lifted an imploring hand.
"Don't go, lady!" he mourned. "Stay a minute!... I air a needin' ye.... I air afraid, so awful alone!"
Tess spoke to the warden.
"Tell Mr. Young I'm staying for a while," said she, "and will you please let Andy know about it?" And she sat down again.
Through the rest of the afternoon, until the long shadows of Auburn Prison were lost in the gathering gloom, Tessibel sat beside the dying man. Sometimes, she whispered to him, sometimes, she sang very softly, and, when Deforrest Young and the warden came through the hospital ward to her side, Tessibel had piloted Owen Bennet through the darkness into a marvelous light.