“Joseph told me that he told Mr. Stowell he had no special powers.”
“He did,” Knight said, nodding. “That’s exactly what he said. Said he had no magical powers at all. But Josiah was so impressed with his honesty, he offered him a job anyway. His pa too. This was in the fall of ’25.”
He stopped, and looked perplexed for a moment. “What was your question again?”
“I was wondering how you and Mrs. Knight came to believe in Joseph.”
“Oh yes.” He smiled sheepishly. “Polly says I’m starting to lose my memory. I say I just get concentrating too hard on other things.”
Nathan smiled. “That’s a good answer, if you ask me.”
“Well, anyway, that’s when I first met Joseph. Like Josiah, I was impressed with his honesty and his forthrightness. He was a good, hard worker. Minded his own business. Always cheerful.”
Nathan was nodding.
“He finally prevailed on Josiah to stop searching for treasure. Said it was of no use. That impressed me too. He could have just kept taking Josiah’s money. Heaven knows the Smiths needed it at that time. But Joseph wouldn’t do such a thing.”
He flicked the reins absently and clucked at the horses. “I hired Joseph in the fall of ‘26. By then he and Emma were courtin’ quite serious like and he wanted to stay close.” He looked suddenly pleased with himself. “In fact, I furnished him a horse and sleigh so he could go down to Harmony and see Emma.”
“So when did you learn about Moroni and the gold plates?”
“Don’t remember exactly. One night he told us all about it. I guess by then he trusted us.” He nodded solemnly. “We trusted him too, Polly and me. It was just that simple. When he told us, we knew it was true. Never doubted it once.”
“And you’ve been helping him ever since.” It was not a question.
The older man shrugged, a little embarrassed. “ ‘Taint hard to help in the Lord’s work,” was all he would say.
Nathan nodded again, then fell silent, glad to be beside a man like this. And glad to be on his way to see Joseph again.
Emma saw them first. She was behind the small frame home, hanging clothes on the line. As the wagon pulled into the yard, she looked up, squinting a little into the noon sun. Once again Nathan was struck with what a handsome woman she was. Her features were clean and evenly sculptured, her dark hair and eyes giving her a sense of gravity which was quickly dispelled when she smiled. She did so now as she recognized them. She dropped back into the basket the shirt she was holding and came quickly toward them.
“Mr. Knight,” she exclaimed, wiping her hands on her apron, “what a pleasant surprise! And Nathan, how good to see you again! Joseph said you were still in Palmyra.”
He swung down and took her extended hand. “I was until just a week ago. But Pa and I finished the spring planting and so I’m back. I’ll be with Mr. Knight most of the summer.”
She turned, extending her hand to Mr. Knight, who had gotten down now as well. “And how is Mrs. Knight and the family?”
“Just fine. Polly sends her best to you and Joseph.” He smiled. “And some of her blueberry muffins as well.”
Emma laughed lightly, tossing her head so her hair bounced brightly in the sunshine. “She is a most wonderful lady. Please return our thanks.”
A little embarrassed, Knight half turned to the wagon. “We brought a little something for you and Joseph.”
Emma stepped to the wagon and instantly her eyes filled with tears. “Dear Mr. Knight,” she cried softly. Her hand went out to touch a barrel. “You have done so much already.”
He was suddenly gruff. “Wouldn’t want you to be suffering, now, while Joseph continues the work.”
For a moment they all three stood silently, as Emma fought back her emotions. Nathan had not seen her since that night in the Smith home. He thought now of what she had been through since then. As they had approached Joseph’s home, Mr. Knight had silently pointed to the little cemetery which lay about sixty or seventy yards from the cabin. A fresh gravestone marked the site of Emma’s firstborn. Joseph had told Nathan that Emma had nearly lost her life as well. As he looked at her now, he could see she had lost a little weight and her face was more drawn and pale than it had been when he last saw her, but somehow it made her seem all the more lovely. She and Joseph made a striking couple.
“And how is Lydia?” Emma asked, brightening again. “Joseph said you are engaged.”
“Yes.”
“That’s wonderful. She is a fine young woman.”
Nathan nodded and smiled, but with a touch of sadness. “I think so too. What I can remember of her.”
“Go on with you, now,” she chided, smiling warmly. “The time is nearly passed. A few more months and then you two will be together again.”
The door behind them flew open and Joseph burst out. “Mr. Knight!” he cried, and in two strides he was to Knight and clasping his hand. He looked in the back of the wagon. “Once again you have driven the wolf from our door.”
Joseph Knight simply shrugged. “It’s little enough I can do.”
“The Lord bless you for it. Thanks in part to you the work moves along swiftly now.”
He swung around, his energy as boundless as that of the sea. “Nathan! What a pleasant surprise!” His grip as he took Nathan’s hand was like that of the dockhands on the canal. “I thought you were still up with your father.”
“Just returned a few days ago.”
“Your family?”
“Well, thank you.”
Emma turned to her husband. “I’ll be putting some dinner on, Joseph. As soon as you have the wagon unloaded, it should be ready.”
“All right. Tell Oliver and Samuel to come out.”
A moment after she entered, two figures appeared at the door of the cabin. Nathan instantly recognized the nearer one. It was Samuel Smith, Joseph’s brother. About two years younger than Joseph, Samuel was about a year older than Nathan. Though Nathan had not been around him much, what he had seen he liked. More garrulous than Joseph, Samuel seemed to take life with a grin. He liked people and people quickly liked him. It was also obvious there was a strong bond between Samuel and his older brother.
Nathan raised a hand and waved and Samuel waved back. Joseph turned to them and motioned them to come over. “Oliver, you’ve already met Mr. Knight, but come and meet another of the fine men of the earth.”
Nathan smiled. From someone else it might have sounded like fawning praise, but from Joseph it came out as guileless as if from a child. He truly meant it.
As they walked up, Nathan watched Oliver closely. He was close to Joseph’s age, though he was dramatically shorter, no more than about five feet five inches, Nathan guessed. But he had a pleasant bearing. His forehead was high, and thick dark hair combed back and away from the forehead only emphasized the narrowness of his face. A full Roman nose, prominent chin, and thin lips gave an impression of sobriety, but that was instantly dispelled by his ready smile and the dark brown eyes which crinkled around the corners when he did so.
Joseph turned to Nathan. “This is a good friend from Palmyra, Oliver. Nathan Steed, meet Oliver Cowdery.”
They shook hands. The grip was not as crushing as Joseph’s, but it was firm and sure. “Nathan, I’m pleased to meet you.”
“It’s good to see you again, Nathan,” Samuel said, reaching out to shake hands.
“And you as well,” Nathan responded warmly. “I didn’t realize you were down here. How are your parents?”
“Fine thank you for asking.”
“Samuel’s been a blessing to us,” Joseph said. “He’s always quick to help.” He turned to Cowdery. “And the Lord sent Oliver to me to serve as scribe,” Joseph declared.
Nathan noted that Oliver seemed a little startled at Joseph’s open reference to the translation work. Joseph evidently saw it too, for he laughed and clapped Oliver on the shoulder. “There is no worry with either of these two, Oliver. They are strong suppo
rters.”
He turned back to Nathan and Mr. Knight, sobering. “Oliver has learned very quickly that Satan is opposed to this work. The rumor makers are once again active and igniting the fires of hatred and persecution against me. A few nights ago we were visited by an ‘official’ delegation.” He pronounced the word official with soft derision.
“Like the ones in Palmyra?” Nathan asked.
“The same. They threatened to mob us and take away the plates if I did not cease ‘this work of the devil.’ Fortunately, my father-in-law has become more friendly towards me now. He also has no tolerance for unlawful proceedings and was able to dissuade them from their intent.”
“But it isn’t finished,” Oliver said quietly. “They’ll be back.”
“Yes,” Joseph said, momentarily darkening. But then almost instantly he smiled again. “But the Lord has shown us the way to go. You’ll be pleased to know we’re coming back to New York.”
“To Palmyra?” Nathan was taken aback. That was hardly a solution.
Joseph shook his head. “No. Oliver has made friends with a family in Fayette Township, about twenty miles south of Palmyra. We’ve written to see if they will take us in until we can complete the translation.”
“That’s wonderful, Joseph. Mother will be thrilled. She is anxiously awaiting any news of how the work progresses.”
“Well, tell her it progresses well. Since Oliver has come we have finished nearly two-thirds of the record.”
Both Nathan and Joseph Knight looked up quickly. “Two-thirds?” Knight echoed.
“Yes. We work most of the day, and often into the night. Oliver has been a godsend.”
“So you have redone the pages which were lost by Mr. Harris?”
Joseph sobered almost instantly and shook his head.
“No?” Nathan was surprised.
“I forgot you didn’t know. So much has happened since we last talked.”
“Tell me.”
Joseph leaned against the wagon wheel. “When I returned to Harmony and finally found favor again with the Lord, it was revealed to me that I was not to retranslate the portion I had already done.”
“But why?”
“Because Satan had put it into the hearts of those who had the first pages to set a trap for me.”
Even Knight seemed not to be aware of this, and Nathan saw he was listening intently.
“It was really very clever. They had the first copy of the manuscript. If I retranslated the same section, they had a perfect opportunity. They were hoping there would be differences, so they could show them to people and ‘prove’ I was a fraud. Even if I did produce a second copy exactly like the first…”
He left it unfinished, and Nathan started as he realized what Joseph was saying. “If it was the same, they would change the original.”
Joseph nodded. “Either way, they would use it to discredit me. Or so they thought. The Lord simply told me not to retranslate it, but to go on from where I had left off.”
“But…” Knight was troubled. “So we’ll never have those original pages in the record.”
Joseph frowned. “Not for now, Mr. Knight. But it is all right. The Lord knew of these things and prepared for them.”
Nathan looked puzzled.
Oliver explained. “When Mormon—he is the ancient prophet who compiled and abridged the records—”
“That’s why it’s called the Book of Mormon,” Samuel volunteered.
“Yes,” Oliver continued. “Anyway, Mormon was abridging all of the records of this ancient people. The one hundred and sixteen pages Joseph had already translated was the first portion of the history. But at that point, Mormon found another set of plates among all the records. They covered the same period of time he had already abridged, but these plates were different. They focused on the more spiritual portion of the history. So Mormon inserted them into his record just as they were, without abridging them.”
Joseph was nodding. “In other words, we had a double coverage of the first portion of the Book of Mormon. I had finished the first section when I left off the translating and gave the manuscript to Martin.”
Now Nathan understood what Joseph was saying. “So when you started again, you just went on to the section that repeated the same history.”
“Well, not exactly,” Oliver said. “When I came down and became Joseph’s scribe, we started in a different place in the translation. But we’ll go back later and take in the period that the lost pages of manuscript covered, only we’ll do that by translating the unabridged plates Mormon inserted. So eventually we’ll have the same coverage but a better record than the first part that was lost.”
“Yes,” Joseph said, giving Nathan a rueful smile. “Do you realize what Oliver is saying? More than a thousand years before I was born the Lord knew I would be foolish and not heed his counsel. So he inspired Mormon to add the other plates so the work would not be harmed.” He shook his head. “Can you imagine how that makes me feel?”
Oliver laid a hand on Joseph’s shoulder. “But there were lessons to be learned, Joseph.”
“Yes,” Joseph agreed instantly. “And I have learned them. First, I have learned not to trust in the arm of flesh. I must be obedient to the Lord’s counsel under all circumstances. Second, I have learned God’s wisdom is greater than the cunning of the devil. This is God’s work and it will not be stopped.”
Behind them the door to the cabin opened again. “Joseph.”
All four men turned to where Emma was standing in the doorway.
She smiled a little hesitantly. “There’ll be food on the table in about five minutes. Perhaps you ought to get the wagon unloaded.”
“Yes, of course.” Joseph turned back, chuckling. “Emma always has to remind me. I get so carried away with conversation, I forget what it is I’m supposed to be doing.”
As they walked around to the back of the wagon, Joseph suddenly put an arm around Nathan’s shoulder, pulling him in against his own. “Ah, Nathan, it is a boon to have you with us. Thank you for coming.”
The moon was nearly to its fullest stage and the river diffused its rays into a thousand points of shimmering light. Nathan stood for a moment and looked across the water. Here, behind Joseph’s home, the river was at least a hundred yards across. Nearby, a fox barked once sharply, then all was quiet. He sat down on the trunk of a huge river birch that years before had been undercut by the current and toppled into the water. He sat for a moment, breathing deeply, savoring the smell of the river and the spring flowers dotting the banks. Finally, he took out the letter from the inside of his jacket, holding the envelope for a moment, then extracting the two sheets and unfolding them carefully. Since it had arrived in Palmyra the week before he had returned to Harmony, the creases had been done and undone so many times that they were beginning to split open.
He moved a little so as to come out of the shadow of an overhanging branch, turning the sheets so as to catch the full light of the moon.
My dearest Nathan,
He stopped. Virtually every eligible young man in Palmyra and Manchester townships had vigorously sought Lydia’s favors. It still left him a little awestruck to think she had rejected all of them in favor of Nathan Steed.
The months seem to drag by ever more slowly now that summer has come again. I have truly fallen in love with the city of Boston and my stay here has been glorious, but I find myself barely able to keep my mind on my duties now. My heart constantly betrays me and my thoughts race forward to September when I shall finally return to you.
Nathan let his fingers run across the paper, feeling the light tracing of ink, telling himself he could catch the faintest wisp of her perfume. Three months! When they had parted, a year seemed like an interminable amount of time. And while, in retrospect, the nine months had passed quickly, now that the end was in sight three more months seemed like an eternity.
Behind him a branch cracked, and Nathan turned. A dark figure was coming down the path which led from the sma
ll cabin down to the river. He hurriedly folded the letter and slipped it inside his coat again.
“Nathan, is that you?”
“Yes. I’m down by the riverbank.”
Even if he had not called, Nathan would have recognized that it was Oliver Cowdery. The shortness of the figure and the narrowness of the shoulders clearly told it was not Joseph.
In a moment he was at Nathan’s side. He smiled and then turned to survey the current and the moon’s glowing path across the river. Finally, he sighed. “What a lovely evening!”
“Yes. I think summer has finally arrived.”
“May I sit with you? Joseph and Emma have gone over to visit with her parents. Samuel has gone into the village.”
Nathan slid down the log a little. “Of course. I was just enjoying the moonlight.”
“And I thought to do the same.”
Out of the corner of his eye, Nathan watched Oliver as he sat down, squirming for a moment to adjust the boniness of his frame to a comfortable position. He had a pleasant face, which only revealed the man inside, and Nathan had found himself liking Joseph’s new scribe almost immediately.
After the dinner was over, Joseph Knight had started back, but he went alone, insisting Nathan stay another day so he could spend more time with Joseph. And so he had. After they had cleared the table, Nathan, Joseph, Samuel, and Oliver strolled out across the small homestead Joseph had purchased from Emma’s brother. Nathan was enthralled as they spoke of the sacred record unfolding as the work of translation progressed. Samuel eagerly spoke of the few pages he had been allowed to read. Oliver, who as primary scribe had written the majority of what had been done thus far, was awed. Joseph spoke up too, but often seemed content to let the other two share their excitement with Nathan.
The Book of Mormon. Nathan was still getting used to the name. About four hundred years after Christ, Mormon, under the direction of the Lord, had gathered all the records of his people and abridged them, writing them on the gold plates so they could be preserved for future generations. He had given the plates to his son, Moroni, before he died. It was Moroni who had buried them in the hill where they would lie hidden as the centuries came and went until the Lord saw fit to bring them forth. It was that same Moroni, Joseph declared solemnly, who as a resurrected and glorified being had appeared and directed him to the plates.
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