CHAPTER XI
"THE STRAIGHT DEATH"
Hands were fumbling with the chain at the dungeon door.
It opened and Jeekum's ashen face shone in the candle-light. For amoment his frightened eyes rested on the two men still standing in theirlast embrace of friendship. A word of betrayal from them and he knewthat his own doom was sealed.
He came in, followed by four men. One of them was MacDougall, the king'swhipper. In the corridor were other faces, like ghostly shadows in thedarkness. Only MacDougall's face was uncovered. The others were hiddenbehind white masks. The men uttered no sound but ranged themselves likespecters in front of the door, their cocked rifles swung into the crooksof their arms. There was a triumphant leer on MacDougall's lips as heand the jailer approached. As the whipper bound Neil's hands behind hisback he hissed in his ear.
"This will be a better job than the whipping, damn you!"
Neil laughed.
"Hear that, Nat?" he asked, loud enough for all in the cell to hear."MacDougall says this will be a better job than the whipping. Heremembers how I thrashed him once when he said something to Marion oneday."
Neil was as cool as though acting his part in a play. His face wasflushed, his eyes gleamed fearlessly defiant. And Nathaniel, lookingupon the courage of this man, from under whose feet had been swept allhope of life, felt a twinge of shame at his own nervousness. MacDougallgrew black with passion at the taunting reminder of his humiliation andtightened the thongs about Neil's wrists until they cut into the flesh.
"That's enough, you coward!" exclaimed
Nathaniel, as he saw the blood start. "Here--take this!"
Like lightning he struck out and his fist fell with crushing forceagainst the side of the man's head. MacDougall toppled back with ahollow groan, blood spurting from his mouth and nose. Nathaniel turnedcoolly to the four rifles leveled at his breast.
"A pretty puppet to do the king's commands!" he cried. "If there's a manamong you let him finish the work!"
Jeekum had fallen upon his knees beside the whipper.
"Great God!" he shrieked. "You've killed, him! You've stove in the sideof his head!"
There was a sudden commotion in the corridor. A terrible voice boomedforth in a roar.
"Let me in!"
Strang stood in the door. He gave a single glance at the man gasping andbleeding in the mud. Then he looked at Nathaniel. The eyes of the twomen met unflinching. There was no hatred now in the prophet's face.
"Captain Plum, I would give a tenth of my kingdom for a brother likeyou!" he said calmly. "Here--I will finish the work." He went boldly tothe task, and as he tied Nathaniel's arms behind him he added, "Thevicissitudes of war, Captain Plum. You are a man--and can appreciatewhat they sometimes mean!"
A few minutes later, gagged and bound, the prisoners fell behind two ofthe armed guards and at a command from the king, given in a low tone toJeekum, marched through the corridor and up the short flight of stepsthat led out of the jail. To Nathaniel's astonishment there was no lightto guide them. Candles and lights had been extinguished. What words heheard were spoken in whispers. In the deep shadow of the prison wall athird guard joined the two ahead and like automatons they strode throughthe gloom with slow, measured step, their rifles held with soldierlyprecision. Nathaniel glanced over his shoulder and saw three other whitemasked faces a dozen feet away. The king had remained behind.
He shuddered and looked at Neil. His companion's appearance was almoststartling. He seemed half a head taller than himself, yet he knew thathe was shorter by an inch or two; his shoulders were thrown back, hischin held high, he kept step with the guards ahead. He was marching tohis death as coolly as though on parade.
Nathaniel's heart beat excitedly as they came to where the scrub of theforest met the plain. They were taking the path that led to Marion's!Again he looked at Neil. There was no change in the fearless attitude ofMarion's brother, no lowering of his head, no faltering in his step.They passed the graves and entered the opening in the forest where layMarion's home, and as once more the sweet odor of lilac came to him,awakening within his soul all those things that he had tried to stiflethat he might meet death like a man, he felt himself weakening, untilonly the cloth about his mouth restrained the moaning cry that forceditself to his lips. If he had possessed a life to give he would havesacrificed it gladly then for a word with the Mormon king, a last prayerthat death might be meted to him here, where eternity would come to himwith his glazing eyes fixed to the end upon the home of his beloved, andwhere the sweetness of the flower that had become a part of Marionherself might soothe the pain of his final moment on earth.
His heart leaped with hope as a sharp voice from the rear commanded ahalt. It was Jeekum. He came up out of the darkness from behind the rearguard, his face still unmasked, and for a few moments was in whisperedconsultation with the guards ahead. Had Strang, in the virulence of thathatred which he concealed so well, conceived of this spot to give addedtorment to death? It was the poetry of vengeance! For the first timeNeil turned toward his companion. Each read what the other had guessed.Neil, who was nearest to the whispering four, turned suddenly towardthem and listened. When he looked at Nathaniel again it was with a slownegative shake of his head.
Jeekum returned quickly and placed himself between them, seizing each byan arm, and the forward guards, pivoting to the left, set off at theirsteady pace across the clearing. As they entered the denser gloom of theforest on the farther side Nathaniel felt the jailer's fingers tightenabout his arm, then relax--and tighten again. A gentle pressure held himback and the guards in front gained half a dozen feet. In a low voiceJeekum called for those behind to fall a few paces to the rear.
Then came again the mysterious working of the man's fingers onNathaniel's arm.
Was Jeekum signaling to him?
He could see Neil's white face still turned stoically to the front.Evidently nothing had occurred to arouse his suspicions. If themaneuvering of Jeekum's fingers meant anything it was intended for himalone. Action had been the manna of his life. The possibility of newadventure, even in the face of death, thrilled him. He waited,breathless--and the strange pressure came again, so hard that it hurthis flesh.
There was no longer a doubt in his mind. The king's sheriff wanted tospeak to him.
And he was afraid of the eyes and ears behind.
The fingers were cautioning him to be ready--when the opportunity came.
The path widened and through the thin tree-tops above their heads thestarlight filtered down upon them. The leading guards were twenty feetaway. How far behind were the others?
A moment more and they plunged into deep night again. The figures aheadwere mere shadows. Again the fingers dug into Nathaniel's arm, andpressing close to the sheriff he bent down his head.
A low, quick whisper fell in his ear.
"Don't give up hope! Marion--Winnsome--"
The sheriff jerked himself erect without finishing. Hurried footstepshad come close to their heels. The rear guards were so near that theycould have touched them with their guns. Had some spot of lesser gloomahead betrayed the prisoner's bowed head and Jeekum's white face turnedto it? There was a steady pressure on Nathaniel's arm now, a warning,frightened pressure, and the hand that made it trembled. Jeekum fearedthe worst--but his fear was not greater than the chill of disappointmentthat came to smother the excited beating of Nathaniel's heart. What hadthe jailer meant to say? What did he know about Marion and Winnsome, andwhy had he given birth to new hope in the same breath that he mentionedtheir names?
His words carried at least one conviction. Marion was alive despite herbrother's somber prophesies. If she had killed herself the sheriff wouldnot have coupled her name with Winnsome's in the way he had.
Nathaniel's nerves were breaking with suspense. He stifled his breath tolisten, to catch the faintest whisper that might come to him from thewhite faced man at his side. Each passing moment of silence added to hisdesperation. He squeezed the sheriff's hand with h
is arm, but there wasno responding signal; in a patch of thick gloom that almost concealedthe figures ahead he pressed near to him and lowered his head again--andJeekum pushed him back fiercely, with a low curse.
They emerged from the forest and the clear starlight shone down uponthem. A little distance off lay the lake in shimmering stillness.Nathaniel looked boldly at the sheriff now, and as his glance passedbeyond him he was amazed at the change that had come over Neil. Theyoung man's head was bowed heavily upon his breast, his shoulders werehunched forward, and he walked with a listless, uneven step. Was itpossible that his magnificent courage had at last given way?
A hundred steps farther they came to the beach and Nathaniel saw a boatat the water's edge with a single figure guarding it. Straight to thisJeekum led his prisoners. For the first time he spoke to them aloud.
"One in front, the other in back," he said.
For an instant Nathaniel found himself close beside Neil and he proddedhim sharply with his knee. His companion did not lift his head. He madeno sign, gave no last flashing comradeship with his eyes, but climbedinto the bow of the boat and sat down with his chin still on his chest,like a man lost in stupor.
Nathaniel followed him, scarcely believing his eyes, and sat himself inthe stern, leaning comfortably against the knees of the man who took thetiller. He felt a curious thrill pass through him when he discovered amoment later that this man was Jeekum. Two men seized the oarsamidships. A fourth, with his rifle across his knees sat facing Neil.
For the first time Nathaniel found himself wondering what this voyagemeant. Were they to be rowed far down the shore to some secret fastnesswhere no other ears would hear the sound of the avenging rifles, andwhere, a few inches under the forest mold, their bodies would never bediscovered? Each stroke of the oars added to the remoteness of thispossibility. The boat was heading straight out to sea. Perhaps they wereto meet a less terrible death by drowning, an end which, thoughaltogether unpleasant, held something comforting in it for Captain Plum.Two hours passed without pause in the steady labor of the men at theoars. In those hours not a word was spoken. The two men amidships heldno communication. The guard in the bow moved a little now and then onlyto relieve his cramped limbs. Neil was absolutely motionless, as thoughhe had ceased to breathe. Jeekum uttered not a whisper.
It was his whisper that Nathaniel waited for, the signaling clutch ofhis fingers, the sound of his breath close to his ears. Again and againhe pressed himself against the sheriff's knees. He knew that he wasunderstood, and yet there came no answer. At last he looked up, andJeekum's face was far above him, staring straight and unseeing into thedarkness ahead. His last spark of hope went out.
After a time a dark rim loomed slowly up out of the sea. It was land,half a mile or so away. Nathaniel sat up with fresh interest, and asthey drew nearer Jeekum rose to his feet and gazed long and steadily inboth directions along the coast. When he returned to his seat the boat'scourse was changed. A few minutes later the bow grated upon sand. Stillvoiceless as specters the guards leaped ashore and Neil roused himselfto follow them, climbing over the gunwale like a sick man. Nathaniel wasclose at his heels. With a growing sense of horror he saw two ghostlystakes thrusting themselves out of the beach a dozen paces away. Helooked beyond them. As far as he could see there was sand--nothing butsand, as white as paper, scintillating in a billion flashingneedle-points in the starlight. Instinctively he guessed what the stakeswere for, and walked toward them with the blood turning cold in hisveins. Neil was before him and stopped at the first stake, making noeffort to lift his eyes as Nathaniel strode past him. At the second, adozen feet beyond, Nathaniel's two guards halted, and placed him withhis back to the post. Two minutes later, bound hand and foot to thestake, he shifted his head so that he could look at his companion.
Neil was similarly fastened, with his face turned partly toward him.There was no change in his attitude. His head hung weakly upon hischest, as if he had fainted.
What did it mean?
Suddenly every nerve in Nathaniel's body leaped into excited action.
The guards were entering their boat! The last man was shoving itoff--they were rowing away! His throbbing muscles seemed ready to bursttheir bonds. The boat became indistinct in the starry gloom--a mereshadow--and faded in the distance. The sound of oars became fainter andfainter. Then, after a little, there was wafted back to him from far outin the lake a man's voice--the wild snatch of a song. The Mormons weregone! They were not to be shot! They were not--
A voice spoke to him, startling him so that he would have cried out ifit had not been for the cloth that gagged him. It was Neil, speakingcoolly, laughingly.
"How are you, Nat?"
Nathaniel's staring eyes revealed his astonishment. He could see Neillaughing at him as though it was an unusually humorous joke in whichthey were playing a part.
"Lord, but this is a funny mess!" he chuckled. "Here am I, able andwilling to talk--and there you are, as dumb as a mummy, and looking forall the world as if you'd seen a ghost! What's the matter? Aren't youglad we're not going to be shot?"
Nathaniel nodded.
The other's voice became suddenly sober.
"This is worse than the other, Nat. It's what we call the 'StraightDeath.' Unless something turns up between now and to-morrow morning, ora little later, we'll be as dead as though they had filled us withbullets. Our only hope rests in the fact that I can use my lungs. That'swhy I didn't let them know when my gag became loose. I had the devil'sown time keeping it from falling with my chin; pretty near broke my neckdoing it. A little later, when we're sure Jeekum and his men are out ofhearing, I'll begin calling for help. Perhaps some fisherman orhunter--"
He stopped, and a chill ran up Nathaniel's back as he listened to aweird howl that came from far behind them. It was a blood-curdlingsound and his face turned a more ghastly pallor as he gazed inquiringlyat Neil. His companion saw the terrible question in his face.
"Wolves," he said. "They're away back in the forest. They won't comedown to us." For a moment he was silent, his eyes turned to the sea.Then he added, "Do you notice anything queer about the way you're boundto that stake, Nat?"
There was a thrilling emphasis in Nathaniel's answer. He nodded his headaffirmatively, again and again.
"Your hands are tied to the post very loosely, with a slack of say sixinches," continued Neil with an appalling precision. "There is a rawhidethong about your neck, wet, and so tight that it chafes your skin whenyou move your head. But the very uncomfortable thing just at this momentis the way your feet are fastened. Isn't that so? Your legs are drawnback, so that you are half resting on your toes, and I'm pretty sureyour knees are aching right now. Eh? Well, it won't be very long beforeyour legs will give way under you and the slack about your wrists willkeep you from helping yourself. Do you know what will happen then?"
He paused and Nathaniel stared at him, partly understanding, yet givingno sign.
"You will hang upon the thong about your neck until you choke to death,"finished Neil. "That's the 'Straight Death.' If the end doesn't come bymorning the sun will finish the job. It will dry out the wet rawhideuntil it grips your throat like a hand. Poetically we call it the handof Strang. Pleasant, isn't it?"
The grim definiteness with which he described the manner of their endadded to those sensations which had already become acutely discomfortingto Nathaniel. Had he possessed the use of his voice when the Mormonswere leaving he would have called upon them to return and lengthen thethongs about his ankles by an inch or two. Now, with almost brutalfrankness, Neil had explained to him the meaning of his strangeposture. His knees began to ache. An occasional sharp pain shot up fromthem to his hips, and the thong about his neck, which at first he hadused as a support for his chin, began to irritate him. At times he foundhimself resting upon it so heavily that it shortened his breath, and hewas compelled to straighten himself, putting his whole weight on histwisted feet. It seemed an hour before Neil broke the terrible silenceagain. Perhaps it was ten minute
s.
"I'm going to begin," he said. "Listen. If you hear an answer nod yourhead."
He drew a deep breath, turned his face as far as he could toward theshore, and shouted.
"Help--help--help!"
Again and again the thrilling words burst from his throat, and as theirechoes floated back to them from the forest, like a thousand mockingvoices, Nathaniel grew hot with the sweat of horror. If he could onlyhave added his own voice to those cries, shrieked out the words withNeil--joined even unavailingly in this last fight for life, it would nothave been so bad. But he was helpless. He watched the desperation growin his companion's face as there came no response save the tauntingechoes; even in the light of the stars he saw that face darken with itseffort, the eyes fill with a mad light, and the throat strain againstits choking thong. Gradually Neil's voice became weaker. When he stoppedto rest and listen his panting breath came to Nathaniel like the hissingof steam. Soon the echoes failed to come back from the forest, andNathaniel fought like a crazed man to free himself, jerking at thethongs that held him until his wrists were bleeding and the rawhideabout his neck choked him.
"No use!" he heard Neil say. "Better take it easy for a while, Nat!"
Marion's brother had turned toward him, his head thrown back against thestake, his face lifted to the sky. Nathaniel raised his own head, andfound that he could breath easier. For a long time his companion did notbreak the silence. Mentally he began counting off the seconds. It waspast midnight--probably one o'clock. Dawn came at half past two, the sunrose an hour later. Three hours to live! Nathaniel lowered his head, andthe rawhide tightened perceptibly at the movement. Neil was watchinghim. His face shone as white as the starlit sand. His mouth was partlyopen.
"I'm devilish sorry--for you--Nat--" he said.
His words came with painful slowness. There was a grating huskiness inhis voice.
"This damned rawhide--is pinching--my Adam's apple--"
He smiled. His white teeth gleamed, his eyes laughed, and with a heartbursting with grief Nathaniel looked away from him. He had seen courage,but never like this, and deep down in his soul he prayed--prayed thatdeath might come to him first, so that he might not have to look uponthe agonies of this other, whose end would be ghastly in its fearlessresignation. His own suffering had become excruciating. Sharp painsdarted like red-hot needles through his limbs, his back tortured him,and his head ached as though a knife had cloven the base of his skull.Still--he could breathe. By pressing his head against the post it wasnot difficult for him to fill his lungs with air. But the strength ofhis limbs was leaving him. He no longer felt any sensation in hiscramped feet. His knees were numb. He measured the paralysis of deathcreeping up his legs inch by inch, driving the sharp pains before it,until suddenly his weight tottered under him and he hung heavily uponthe thong about his throat. For a full half minute he ceased to breathe,and a feeling of ineffable relief swept over him, for during those fewseconds his body was at rest. He found that by a backward contortion hecould bring himself erect again, and that for a few minutes after eachrespite it was not so difficult for him to stand.
After a third effort he turned again toward Neil. A groan of horror roseto his imprisoned lips. His companion's face was full upon him, ghastlywhite; his eyes were wide and staring, like balls of shimmering glass inthe starlight, and his throat was straining at the fatal rawhide!Nathaniel heard no sound, saw no stir of life in the inanimate figure.
A moaning, wordless cry broke through the cloth that gagged him.
At the sound of that cry, faint, terrifying, with all the horror thatmight fill a human soul in its inarticulate note, a shudder of lifepassed into Neil's body. Weakly he flung himself back, stood poised foran instant against the stake, then fell again upon the deadly thong.Twice--three times he made the effort, and failed. And to Nathaniel,staring wild eyed and silent now, the spectacle was one that seemed toblast the very soul within him and send his blood in rushing torrents offire to his sickened brain. Neil was dying! A fourth time he struggledback. A fifth--and he held his ground. Even in that passing instantsomething like a flash of his buoyant smile flickered in his face andthere came to Nathaniel's ears like a throttled whisper--his name.
"Nat--"
And no more.
The head fell forward again. And Nathaniel, turning his face away, sawsomething come up out of the shimmering sea, like a shadow before hisblistering eyes, and as his own limbs went out from under him and hefelt the strangling death at his throat there came from that shadow acry that seemed to snap his very heartstrings--a piercing cry and (evenin his half consciousness he recognized it) a woman's cry! He flunghimself back, and for a moment he saw Neil struggling, the last spark oflife in him stirred by that same cry; and then across the white sand twofigures flew madly toward them and even as the hot film in his eyes grewthicker he knew that one of them was Marion, and that the other wasWinnsome Croche.
His heart seemed to stop beating. He strove to pull himself together,but his head fell forward. Faintly, as on a battlefield, voices came tohim, and when with a superhuman effort he straightened himself for aninstant he saw that Neil was no longer at the stake but was stretched onthe sand, and of the two figures beside him one suddenly sprang to herfeet and ran to him. And then Marion's terror-filled face was close tohis own, and Marion's lips were moaning his name, and Marion's handswere slashing at the thongs that bound him. When with a great sigh ofjoy he crumpled down upon the earth he knew that he was slipping offinto oblivion with Marion's arms about his neck, and with her lipspressing to his the sweet elixir of her love.
Darkness enshrouded him but a few moments, when a dash of cool waterbrought him back into light. He felt himself lowered upon the sand andafter a breath or two he twisted himself on his elbow and saw thatNeil's white face was held on Winnsome's breast and that Marion wasrunning up from the shore with more water. For a space she knelt besideher brother, and then she hurried to him. Joy shone in her face. Shefell upon her knees and drew his head in the hollow of her arm, crooningmad senseless words to him, and bathing his face with water, her eyesshining down upon him gloriously. Nathaniel reached up and touched herface, and she bowed her head until her hair smothered him in sweetgloom, and kissed him. He drew her lips to his own, and then she loweredhim gently and stood up in the starlight, looking first at Neil and nextdown at him; and then she turned quickly back to the sea.
From down near the shore she called back some word, and with a shrillcry Winnsome followed her. Nathaniel struggled to his elbow, to hisknees--staggered to his feet. He saw the boat drifting out into thenight, and Winnsome standing alone at the water-edge, her sobbing criesof entreaty, of terror, following it unanswered. He tottered down towardher, gaining new strength at each step, but when he reached her the boatwas no longer to be seen and Winnsome's face was whiter than the sandsunder her feet.
"She is gone--gone--" she moaned, stretching out her arms to him. "Sheis going--back to Strang!"
And then, from far out in the white glory of the night, there came backto him the voice of the girl he loved.
"Good-by--Good-by--"
CHAPTER XII
MARION FREED FROM BONDAGE
"Gone!" moaned Winnsome again. "She has gone--back--to--Strang!"
Neil was crawling to them like a wounded animal across the sand.
She started toward him but Nathaniel stopped her.
"She is the king's--wife--"
His throat was swollen so that he could hardly speak.
"No. They are to be married to-night. Oh, I thought she was going tostay!" She tore herself away from him to go to Neil, who had fallen uponhis face exhausted, a dozen yards away.
In the wet sand, where the incoming waves lapped his hands and feet,Nathaniel sank down, his eyes staring out into the shimmering distancewhere Marion had gone. His brain was in a daze, and he wondered if hehad been stricken by some strange madness--if this all was but somepassing phantasm that would soon leave him again to his misery and hisdespair. But the d
ash of the cold water against him cleared away hisdoubt. Marion had come to him. She had saved him from death. And now shewas gone.
And she was not the king's wife!
He staggered to his feet again and plunged into the lake until the waterreached to his waist, calling her name, entreating her in weak, halfchoked cries to come back to him. The water soaked through to his hot,numb body, restoring his reason and strength, and he buried his face init and drank like one who had been near to dying of thirst. Then hereturned to Neil. Winnsome was holding his head in her arms.
He dropped upon his knees beside them and saw that life was returningfull and strong in Neil's face.
"You will be able to walk in a few minutes," he said. "You and Winnsomemust leave here. We are on the mainland and if you follow the shorenorthward you will come to the settlements. I am going back for Marion."
Neil made an effort to follow him as he rose to his feet.
"Nat--Nat--wait--"
Winnsome held him back, frightened, tightening her arms about him.
"You must go with Winnsome," urged Nathaniel, seizing the hand that Neilstretched up to him. "You must take her to the first settlement up thecoast. I will come back to you with Marion."
He spoke confidently, as a man who sees his way open clearly before him,and yet as he turned, half running, to the low black shadow of thedistant forest he knew that he was beginning a blind fight against fate.If he could find a hunter's cabin, a fisherman's shanty--a boat!
Barely had he disappeared when a voice called to him. It was Winnsome.The girl ran up to him holding something in her hand. It was a pistol."You may need it!" she exclaimed. "We brought two!"
Nathaniel reached out hesitatingly, but not to take the weapon. Gently,as though his touch was about to fall upon some fragile flower, he drewthe girl to him, took her beautiful face between his two strong handsand gazed steadily and silently for a moment into her eyes.
"God bless you, little Winnsome!" he whispered. "I hope that someday youwill--forgive me."
The girl understood him.
"If I have anything to forgive--you are forgiven."
The pistol dropped upon the sand, her hands stole to his shoulders.
"I want you to take something to Marion for me," she whispered softly."This!"
And she kissed him.
Her eyes shone upon him like a benediction.
"You have given me a new life, you have given me--Neil! My prayers arewith you."
And kissing him again, she slipped away from under his hands before hecould speak.
And Nathaniel, following her with his eyes until he could no longer seeher, picked up the pistol and set off again toward the forest, the touchof her lips and the prayers of this girl whose father he had slainfilling him with something that was more than strength, more than hope.Life had been given to him again, strong, fighting life, and with it andWinnsome's words there returned his old confidence, his old daring.There was everything for him to win now. His doubts and his fears hadbeen swept away. Marion was not dead, she was not the king's wife--andit was not of another that he had accepted proof of her love for him,for he had felt the pressure of her arms about his neck and the warmthof her lips upon his face. He had until night--and the dawn was justbeginning to break. Ten or fifteen miles to the north there weresettlements, and between there were scores of settlers' homes andfishermen's shanties. Surely within an hour or two he would find a boat.
He turned where the edge of the forest came down to meet the whitewater-run of the sea, and set off at a slow, steady trot into the north.If he could reach a boat soon he might overtake Marion in mid-lake. Thethought thrilled him, and urged him to greater speed. As the stars fadedaway in the dawn he saw the dark barrier of the forest drifting away,and later, when the light broke more clearly, there stretched out aheadof him mile upon mile of desert dunes. As far as he could see there wasno hope of life. He slowed his steps now, for he would need to preservehis strength. Yet he experienced no fear, no loss of confidence. Eachmoment added to his faith in himself. Before noon he would be on hisway to the Mormon kingdom, by nightfall he would be upon its shores.After that--
He examined the pistol that Winnsome had given him. There were fiveshots in it and he smiled joyously as he saw that it had been loaded byan experienced hand. It would be easy enough for him to find Strang. Hewould not consider the woman--his wife. The king's wife! Like a flashthere occurred to him the incident of the battlefield. Was it thiswoman--the woman who had begged him to spare the life of the prophet,who had knelt beside him, and whispered in his ear, and kissed him? Hadthat been her reward for the sacrifice she believed he had made for herin the castle chamber? The thought of this woman, whose beauty and lovebreathed the sweet purity of a flower and whose faith to her king andmaster was still unbroken even in her hour of repudiation fell upon himheavily. For there was no choice, no shadow of alternative. There wasbut one way for him to break the bondage of the girl he loved.
For hours he trod steadily through the sand. The sun rose above him, hotand blistering, and the dunes still stretched out ahead of him, likewinnows and hills and mountains of glittering glass. Gradually thedesert became narrower. Far ahead he could see where the forest camedown to the shore and his heart grew lighter. Half an hour later heentered the margin of trees. Almost immediately he found signs of life.A tree had been felled and cut into wood. A short distance beyond hecame suddenly upon a narrow path, beaten hard by the passing of feet,and leading toward the lake. He had meant to rest under the shade ofthese trees but now he forgot his fatigue. For a moment he hesitated.Far back in the forest he heard the barking of a dog--but he turned inthe opposite direction. If there was a boat the path would take him toit. Through a break in the trees he caught the green sweep of marsh riceand his heart beat excitedly with hope. Where there was rice there werewild-fowl, and surely where there were wild-fowl, there would be a puntor a canoe! In his eagerness he ran, and where the path ended, the flagsand rice beaten into the mud and water, he stopped with an exultant cry.At his feet was a canoe. It was wet, as though just drawn out of thewater, and a freshly used paddle was lying across the bow. Pausing butto take a quick and cautious glance about him he shoved the frail craftinto the lake and with a few quiet strokes buried himself in the ricegrass. When he emerged from it he was half a mile from the shore.
For a long time he sat motionless, looking out over the shimmering sea.Far to the south and west he could make out the dim outline of BeaverIsland, while over the trail he had come, mile upon mile, lay theglistening dunes. Somewhere between the white desert sand and thatdistant coast of the Mormon kingdom Marion was making her way back tobondage. Nathaniel had given up all hope of overtaking her now. Longbefore he could intercept her she would have reached the island. When hestarted again he paddled slowly, and laid out for himself the plan thathe was to follow. There must be no mistake this time, no error injudgment, no rashness in his daring. He would lie in hiding until dusk,and then under cover of darkness he would hunt down Strang and kill him.After that he would fly to his canoe and escape. A little later, perhapsthat very night if fate played the game well for him, he would returnfor Marion. And yet, as he went over and over his scheme, whippinghimself into caution--into cool deliberation--there burned in his blooda fire that once or twice made him set his teeth hard, a fire thatdefied extinction, that smoldered only to await the breath that wouldfan it into a fierce blaze. It was the fire that had urged him into therescue at the whipping-post, that had sent him single-handed to invadethe king's castle, that had hurled him into the hopeless battle upon theshore. He swore at himself softly, laughingly, as he paddled steadilytoward Beaver Island.
The sun mounted straight and hot over his head; he paddled more slowly,and rested more frequently, as it descended into the west, but it stilllacked two hours of sinking behind the island forest when the whitewater-run of the shore came within his vision. He had meant to hold offthe coast until the approach of evening but changed his mind and landed,conceali
ng his canoe in a spot which he marked well, for he knew itwould soon be useful to him again. Deep shadows were already gatheringin the forest and through these Nathaniel made his way slowly in thedirection of St. James. Between him and the town lay Marion's home andthe path that led to Obadiah's. Once more the spirit of impatience, ofaction, stirred within him. Would Marion go first to her home?Involuntarily he changed his course so that it would bring him to theclearing. He assured himself that it would do no harm, that he stillwould take no chances.
He came out in the strip of dense forest between the clearing and St.James, worming his way cautiously through the underbrush until he couldlook out into the opening. A single glance and he drew back inastonishment. He looked again, and his face turned suddenly white, andan almost inaudible cry fell from his lips. There was no longer a cabinin the clearing! Where it had been there was gathered a crowd of men andboys. Above their heads he saw a thin film of smoke and he knew what hadhappened. Marion's home had burned! But what was the crowd doing? Ithung close in about the smoldering ruins as if every person in it werestriving to reach a common center. Surely a mere fire would not gatherand hold a throng like this.
Nathaniel rose to his feet and thrust his head and shoulders from hishiding-place. He heard a loud shout near him and drew back quickly as aboy rushed madly across the opening toward the crowd, crying out at thetop of his voice. He had come out of the path that led to St. James. Nosooner had he reached the group about the burned cabin than there came achange that added to Nathaniel's bewilderment. He heard loud voices, theexcited shouting of men and the shrill cries of boys, and the crowdsuddenly began to move, thinning itself out until it was racing in ablack stream toward the Mormon city. In his excitement Nathaniel hurriedtoward the path. From the concealment of a clump of bushes he watchedthe people as they rushed past him a dozen paces away. Behind all theothers there came a figure that drew a sharp cry from him as he leapedfrom his hiding-place. It was Obadiah Price.
"Obadiah!" he called. "Obadiah Price!"
The old man turned. His face was livid. He was chattering to himself,and he chattered still as he ran up to Nathaniel. He betrayed nosurprise at seeing him, and yet there was the insane grip of steel inthe two hands that clutched fiercely at Nathaniel's.
"You have come in time, Nat!" he panted joyfully. "You have come intime! Hurry--hurry--hurry--"
He ran back into the clearing, with Nathaniel close at his side, andpointed to the smoking ruins of the cabin among the lilacs.
"They were killed last night!" he cried shrilly. "Somebody murderedthem--and burned them with the house! They are dead--dead!"
"Who?" shouted Nathaniel.
Obadiah had stopped and was rubbing and twisting his hands in his old,mad way.
"The old folks. Ho, ho, the old folks, of course! They aredead--dead--dead--"
He fairly shrieked the words. Then, for a moment, he stood tightlyclutching his thin hands over his chest in a powerful effort to controlhimself.
"They are dead!" he repeated.
He spoke more calmly, and yet there was something so terrible in hiseyes, something so harshly vibrant of elation in the quivering passionof his voice that Nathaniel felt himself filled with a strange horror.He caught him by the arm, shaking him as he would have shaken a child.
"Where is Marion?" he asked. "Tell me, Obadiah--where is Marion?"
The councilor seemed not to have heard him. A singular change came intohis face and his eyes traveled beyond Nathaniel. Following his glancethe young man saw that three men had appeared from the scorchedshrubbery about the burned house and were hurrying toward them. Withoutshifting his eyes Obadiah spoke to him quickly.
"Those are king's sheriffs, Nat," he said. "They know me. In a momentthey will recognize you. The United States warship _Michigan_ has justarrived in the harbor to arrest Strang. If you can reach the cabin andhold it for an hour you will be saved. Quick--you must run--"
"Where is Marion?"
"At the cabin! She is at--"
Nathaniel waited to hear no more, but sped toward the breach in theforest that marked the beginning of the path to Obadiah's. The shouts ofthe king's men came to him unheeded. At the edge of the woods he glancedback and saw that they had overtaken the councilor. As he ran he drewhis pistol and in his wild joy he flung back a shout of defiance to themen who were pursuing him. Marion was at the cabin--and a governmentship had come to put an end to the reign of the Mormon king! He shoutedMarion's name as he came in sight of the cabin; he cried it aloud as hebounded up the low steps.
"Marion--Marion--"
In front of the door that led to the tiny chamber in which he had takenObadiah's gold he saw a figure. For a moment he was blinded by hissudden dash from the light of day into the gloom of the cabin, and hesaw only that a figure was standing there, as still as death. Hispistol dropped to the floor. He stretched out his arms, and his voicesobbed in its entreaty as he whispered the girl's name. In response tothat whisper came a low, glad cry, and Marion lay trembling on hisbreast.
"I have come back for you!" he breathed.
He felt her heart beating against him. He pressed her closer, and herarms slipped about his neck.
"I have come back for you!"
He was almost crying, like a boy, in his happiness.
"I love you, I love you--"
He felt the warm touch of her lips.
"You will go with me?"
"If you want me," she whispered. "If you want me--after you know--what Iam--"
She shuddered against his breast, and he raised her face between his twohands and kissed her until she drew away from him, crying softly.
Marion]
"You must wait--you must wait!"
He saw now in her face an agony that appalled him. He would have gone toher again, but there came loud voices from the forest, and recoveringhis pistol he sprang to the door. Half a hundred paces away were Obadiahand the king's sheriffs. They had stopped and the councilor wasexpostulating excitedly with the men, evidently trying to keep them fromthe cabin. Suddenly one of the three broke past him and ran swiftlytoward the open door, and with a shriek of warning to Nathaniel the oldcouncilor drew a pistol and fired point blank in the sheriff's back. Inanother instant the two men behind had fired and Obadiah fell forwardupon his face.
With a yell of rage Nathaniel leaped from the door. He heard Marion cryout his name, but his fighting blood was stirred and he did not stop.Obadiah had given up his life for him, for Marion, and he was mad with adesire to wreak vengeance upon the murderers. The first man lay where hehad fallen, with Obadiah's bullet through his back. The other two firedagain as Nathaniel rushed down upon them. He heard the zip of one of theballs, which came so close that it stung his cheek.
"Take that!" he cried.
He fired, still running--once, twice, three times and one of the two mencrumpled down as though a powerful blow had broken his legs under him.
The other turned into the path and ran. Nathaniel caught a glimpse of afrightened, boyish face, and something of mercy prompted him to hold theshot he was about to send through his lungs.
"Stop!" he shouted. "Stop!"
He aimed at the fugitive's legs and fired.
"Stop!"
The boyish sheriff was lengthening the distance between them andNathaniel halted to make sure of his last ball. He was about to shootwhen there came a sharp command from down the path and a file of menburst into view, running at double-quick. He saw the flash of a saber,the gleam of brass buttons, the blue glare of the setting sun on leveledcarbines, and he stopped, shoulder to shoulder with the man he had beenpursuing. For a moment he stared as the man with the naked saberapproached. Then he sprang toward him with a joyful cry of recognition.
"My God, Sherly--Sherly--"
He stood with his arms stretched out, his naked chest heaving.
"Sherly--Lieutenant Sherly--don't you know me?"
The lieutenant had dropped the point of his saber. He advanced a step,his face filled with ast
onishment.
"Plum!" he cried incredulously. "Is it you?"
For the moment Nathaniel could only wring the other's hand. He tried tospeak but his breath choked him.
"I told you in Chicago that I was going to blow up this damnedisland--if you wouldn't do it for me--", he gasped at last. "I've had--ahell of a time--"
"You look it!" laughed the lieutenant. "We got our orders the second dayafter you left to 'Arrest Strang, and break up the Mormon kingdom!'We've got Strang aboard the _Michigan_. But he's dead."
"Dead!"
"He was shot in the back by one of his own men as we were bringing himup the gang-way. The fellow who killed him has given himself up, andsays that he did it because Strang had him publicly whipped day beforeyesterday. I'm up here hunting for a man named Obadiah Price. Do youknow--"
Nathaniel interrupted him excitedly.
"What do you want with Obadiah Price?"
"The president of the United States wants him. That's all I know. Whereis he?"
"Back there--dead or very badly wounded! We've just had a fight with theking's men--"
The lieutenant broke in with a sharp command to his men.
"Quick, lead us to him. Captain Plum! If he's not dead--"
He started off at a half run beside Nathaniel.
"Lord, it's a pretty mess if he is!" he added breathlessly. Withoutpausing he called back over his shoulder, "Regan, fall out and return tothe ship. Tell the captain that Obadiah Price is badly wounded and thatwe want the surgeon on the run!"
A turn in the path brought them to the opening where the fight hadoccurred. Marion was on her knees beside the old councilor.
Nathaniel hurried ahead of the lieutenant and his men. The girl glancedup at him and his heart filled with dread at the terror in her eyes.
"Is he dead?"
"No--but--" Her voice trembled with tears.
Nathaniel did not let her finish. Gently he raised her to her feet asthe lieutenant came up.
"You must go to the cabin, sweetheart," he whispered.
Even in this moment of excitement and death his great love drove allelse from his eyes, and the blood surged into Marion's pale cheeks asshe tremblingly gave him her hand. He led her to the door, and held herfor a moment in his arms.
"Strang is dead," he said softly. In a few words he told her what hadhappened and turned back to the door, leaving her speechless.
"If he is dying--you will tell me--" she called after him.
"Yes, yes, I will tell you."
He ran back into the opening.
The lieutenant had doubled his coat under Obadiah's head and his facewas pale as he looked up at Nathaniel. The latter saw in his eyes whathis lips kept silent. The officer held something in his hand. It was themysterious package which Captain Plum had taken his oath to deliver tothe president of the United States.
"I don't dare move until the surgeon comes," said the lieutenant. "Hewants to speak to you. I believe, if he has anything to say you hadbetter hear it now."
His last words were in a whisper so low that Nathaniel scarcely heardthem. As the lieutenant rose to his feet, he whispered again.
"He is dying!"
Obadiah's eyes opened as Nathaniel knelt beside him and from between histhin lips there came faintly the old, gurgling chuckle.
"Nat!" he breathed. His thin hand sought his companion's and clung to ittightly. "We have won. The vengeance of God--has come!"
In these last moments all madness had left the eyes of Obadiah Price.
"I want to tell you--" he whispered, and Nathaniel bent low. "I havegiven him the package. It is evidence I have gathered--all theseyears--to destroy the Mormon kingdom."
He tried to turn his head.
"Marion--" he whispered wistfully.
"She will come," said Nathaniel. "I will call her."
"No--not yet."
Obadiah's fingers tightened about Captain Plum's.
"I want to tell--you."
For a few moments he seemed struggling to command all his strength.
"A good many years ago," he said, as if speaking to himself, "I loved agirl--like Marion, and she loved me--as Marion loves you. Her peoplewere Mormons, and they went to Kirtland--and I followed them. We plannedto escape and go east, for my Jean was good and beautiful, and hated theMormons as I hated them. But they caught us and--thought--they--killed--"
The old man's lips twitched and a convulsive shudder shook his body.
"When everything came back to me I was older--much older," he went on."My hair was white. I was like an old man. My people had found me andthey told me that I had been mad for three years, Nat--mad--mad--mad!and that a great surgeon had operated on my head, where they struckme--and brought me back to reason. Nat--Nat--" He strained to raisehimself, gasping excitedly. "God, I was like you then, Nat! I went backto fight for my Jean. She was gone. Nobody knew me, for I was an oldman. I hunted from settlement to settlement. In my madness I became aMormon, for vengeance--in hope of finding her. I was rich, and I becamepowerful. I was made an elder because of my gold. Then I found--"
A moan trembled on the old man's lips.
"--they had forced her to marry--the son of a Mormon--"
He stopped, and for a moment his eyes seemed filling with the glazedshadows of death. He roused himself almost fiercely.
"But he loved my Jean, Nat--he loved her as I loved her--and he was agood man!", he whispered shrilly. "Quick--quick--I must tell you--theyhad tried to escape from Missouri and the Danites killed him,--andJoseph Smith wanted Jean and at the last moment she killed herself tosave her honor as Marion was going to do, and she left two children--"
He coughed and blood flecked his lips.
"She left--Marion and Neil!"
He sank back, ashen white and still, and with a cry Nathaniel turned tothe lieutenant. The officer ran forward with a flask in his hand.
"Give him this!"
The touch of liquor to Obadiah's lips revived him. He whispered weakly.
"The children, Nat--I tried to find them--and years after--I did--inNauvoo. The man and woman who had killed the father in their own househad taken them and were raising them as their own. I went mad!Vengeance--vengeance--I lived for it, year after year. I wanted thechildren--but if I took them all would be lost. I followed them,watched them, loved them--and they loved me. I would wait--wait--untilmy vengeance would fall like the hand of God, and then I would freethem, and tell them how beautiful their mother was. When Joseph Smithwas killed and the split came the old folks followed Strang--and I--Itoo--"
He rested a moment, breathing heavily.
"I brought my Jean with me and buried her up there on the hill--themiddle grave, Nat, the middle grave--Marion's mother."
Nathaniel pressed the liquor to the old man's lips again.
"My vengeance was at hand--I was almost ready--when Strang learned apart of the secret," he continued with an effort. "He found the oldpeople were murderers. When Marion would not become his wife he told herwhat they had done. He showed her the evidence! He threatened them withdeath unless Marion became his wife. His sheriffs watched them nightand day. He named the hour of their doom--unless Marion yielded to him.And to save them, her supposed parents--to keep the terrible knowledge oftheir crime from Neil--Marion--was--going--to--sacrifice--herself--when--"
Again he stopped. His breath was coming more faintly.
"I understand," whispered Nathaniel. "I understand--"
Obadiah's dimming eyes gazed at him steadily.
"I thought my vengeance would come--in time--to save her, Nat. But--itfailed. I knew of one other way and when all seemed lost--I took it. Ikilled the old people--the murderers of her father--of my Jean! I knewthat would destroy Strang's power--"
In a sudden spasm of strength he lifted his head. His voice came in ahoarse, excited whisper.
"You won't tell Marion--you won't tell Marion that I killed them--"
"No--never."
Obadiah fell back with a relieved sigh.
After a moment he added.
"In a chest in the cabin there is a letter for Marion. It tells herabout her mother--and the gold there--is for her--and Neil--"
His eyes closed. A shudder passed through his form.
"Marion--" he breathed. "Marion!"
Nathaniel rose to his feet and ran to the cabin door.
"Marion!" he called.
Blinding tears shut out the vision of the girl from his eyes. Hepointed, looking from her, and she, knowing what he meant, sped past himto the old councilor.
In the great low room in which Obadiah Price had spent so many yearsplanning his vengeance Captain Plum waited.
After a time, the girl came back.
There was great pain in her voice as she stretched out her arms to himblindly, sobbing his name.
"Gone--gone--they're all gone now--but Neil!"
Nathaniel held out his arms.
"Only Neil,"--he cried, "only Neil--Marion--?"
"And you--you--you--"
Her arms were around his neck, he held her throbbing against his breast.
"And you--"
She raised her face, glorious in its love.
"If you want me--still."
And he whispered:
"For ever and for ever!"
THE END
The Courage of Captain Plum Page 11