war, Captain Plum. You are a man--and can appreciate
what they sometimes mean!"

A few minutes later, gagged and bound, the prisoners fell behind two of
the armed guards and at a command from the king, given in a low tone to
Jeekum, marched through the corridor and up the short flight of steps
that led out of the jail. To Nathaniel's astonishment there was no light
to guide them. Candles and lights had been extinguished. What words he
heard were spoken in whispers. In the deep shadow of the prison wall a
third guard joined the two ahead and like automatons they strode through
the gloom with slow, measured step, their rifles held with soldierly
precision. Nathaniel glanced over his shoulder and saw three other white
masked faces a dozen feet away. The king had remained behind.

He shuddered and looked at Neil. His companion's appearance was almost
startling. He seemed half a head taller than himself, yet he knew that
he was shorter by an inch or two; his shoulders were thrown back, his
chin held high, he kept step with the guards ahead. He was marching to
his death as coolly as though on parade.

Nathaniel's heart beat excitedly as they came to where the scrub of the
forest 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 of
Marion's brother, no lowering of his head, no faltering in his step.
They passed the graves and entered the opening in the forest where lay
Marion'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 stifle
that he might meet death like a man, he felt himself weakening, until
only the cloth about his mouth restrained the moaning cry that forced
itself to his lips. If he had possessed a life to give he would have
sacrificed it gladly then for a word with the Mormon king, a last prayer
that death might be meted to him here, where eternity would come to him
with his glazing eyes fixed to the end upon the home of his beloved, and
where the sweetness of the flower that had become a part of Marion
herself might soothe the pain of his final moment on earth.

His heart leaped with hope as a sharp voice from the rear commanded a
halt. It was Jeekum. He came up out of the darkness from behind the rear
guard, his face still unmasked, and for a few moments was in whispered
consultation with the guards ahead. Had Strang, in the virulence of that
hatred whi