Nathaniel lifted one of the limp hands and its
clammy chill struck horror to his heart. Tenderly he lifted the old man
and carried him to the cot at the end of the room. He loosened his
clothes, tore off the low collar about his throat, and felt with his
hand to measure the faint beating of life in the councilor's breast. For
a few moments it seemed to grow fainter and fainter, and a choking lump
rose in his throat as he watched the pallor of death fixing itself on
the councilor's shriveled face. What strange chord of sympathy was it
that bound him to this old man? Was it the same mysterious influence
that had attracted Marion to him? He dropped upon his knees and called
the girl's name softly but it awakened no response in the sightless
eyes, no tremor in the parted, unquivering lips. Very slowly as the
minutes passed there came a reaction. The pulsations of the weakened
heart became a little stronger, he could catch faintly the sound of
breath coming from between the old man's lips.

With a gasp of relief Nathaniel rose to his feet. Through the door he
saw the red glare growing in the northern sky and heard the great bell
at St. James ring a wilder and more excited alarm. For a few moments he
stood in silent, listening inaction, his nerves tingling with a strange
sensation of impending peril. Obadiah's madness, the mysterious
trembling of the earth beneath his feet, the volcano of fire, the
clanging of the bell and the councilor's insane rejoicing had all come
so suddenly that he was dazed. What great calamity, what fearful
vengeance, was about to come upon the Mormon kingdom? Was it possible
that the fishermen and settlers of the mainland had risen, as Obadiah
had said, and were already at hand to destroy Strang and his people? The
thought spurred him to the door. The blood rushed like fire through his
veins. What would it mean to Marion--to Neil?

In his excitement he started down the path that led to the lilac hidden
home beyond the forest. Then he thought again of Obadiah and his last
choking utterance of Marion's name. He had tried to speak of her, even
with that death-like rattling of the breath in his throat; and the
memory of the old councilor's frantic struggle for words brought
Nathaniel quickly back to the cabin. He bent over Obadiah's shriveled
form and spoke the girl's name again and again in his ears. There came
no response, no quiver of life to show that the old man was conscious
of his presence. As h