eager eyes, having no words to say, overcome by the joy that surged through him like a mighty rush of waters. In the moment’s glorious certainty he rested until she stirred nervously under his devouring look, and spoke.
“Come, kiss me now and let me go.”
He kissed her eyes so that she shut them; then he kissed her lips—long—letting her go at last, grudgingly, fearfully, unsatisfied.
“You scare me when you look that way. You mustn’t be so fierce.”
“I told him he didn’t know you.”
“Who didn’t know me, sir?”
“A man who said I wasn’t sure of you.”
“So you are sure of me, are you, Mr. Preacherman? Is it because we’ve been sweethearts since so long? But remember you’ve been much away. I’ve seen you—let me count—but one little time of two weeks in three years. You would go on that horrid mission.”
“Is not religion made up of obedience, let life or death come?”
“Is there no room for loving one’s sweetheart in it?”
“One must obey, and I am a better man for having denied myself and gone. I can love you better. I have been taught to think of others. I was sent to open up the gospel in the Eastern States because I had been endowed with almost the open vision. It was my call to help in the setting up of the Messiah’s latter-day kingdom. Besides, we may never question the commands of the holy priesthood, even if our wicked hearts rebel in secret.”
“If you had questioned the right person sharply enough, you might have had an answer as to why you were sent.”
“What do you mean? How could I have questioned? How could I have rebelled against the stepping-stone of my exaltation?”
His face relaxed a little, and he concluded almost quizzically:
“Was not Satan hurled from high heaven for resisting authority?”
She pouted, caught him by the lapels of his coat and prettily tried to shake him.
“There—horrid!—you’re preaching again. Please remember you’re not on mission now. Indeed, sir, you were called back for being too—too—why, do you know, even old Elder Munsel, ‘Fire-brand Munsel,’ they call him, said you were too fanatical.”
His face grew serious.
“I’m glad to be called back to you, at any rate,—and yet, think of all those poor benighted infidels who believe there are no longer revelations nor prophecies nor gifts nor healings nor speaking with tongues,—this miserable generation so blind in these last days when the time of God’s wrath is at hand. Oh, I burn in my heart for them, night after night, suffering for the tortures that must come upon them—thrice direful because they have rejected the message of Moroni and trampled upon the priesthood of high heaven, butchering the Saints of the Most High, and hunting the prophets of God like Ahab of old.”
“Oh, dear, please stop it! You sound like swearing!” Her two hands were closing her ears in a pretty pretense.
He seemed hardly to hear her, but went on excitedly:
“Yet I have done what man could do. I am never done doing. I would gladly give my body to be burned a thousand times if it would avail to save them into the Kingdom. I have preached the word tirelessly—fanatically, they say—but only as it burned in my bones. I have told them of visions, dreams, revelations, miracles, and all the mercies of this last dispensation. And I have prayed and fasted. Just now coming from winter quarters, when I could not preach, I held twelve fasts and twelve vigils. You will say it has weakened me, but it has weakened only the bonds that the flesh puts upon the spirit. Even so, I fell short of my vision—my tabernacle of flesh must have been too much profaned, though how I cannot dream—believe me, I have kept myself as high and clean as I knew. Yet there was promise. For only last night at the river bank, the spirit came partially upon me. I was taken with a faintness, and I heard above my head a sound like the rustling of silken robes, and the spirit of God hovered over me, so that I could feel its radiance. All in good time, then, it shall dwell within me, so that I may know a way to save the worthy.”
He grasped her wrist and bent eagerly forward, with the same wild look in his eyes that had before disquieted her.
“Mark what I say now—I shall do great works for this generation; I am strangely favoured of God; I have felt the spirit quicken wondrously within me, and I know the Lord works not in vain; what great wonder of grace I shall do, what miracle of salvation, I know not, but remember, it shall be transcendent; tell it to no one, but I know in my inner secret heart it shall be a greater work than man hath yet done.”
He stopped and drew himself up, shaking his head, as if to shrug off the spell of his own feeling.
“Now, now! stop it at once, and come to the house. I’ve been tending your father and mother, and I’m going to tend you. What you need directly is food. Your look may be holy, but I prefer full cheeks. Not another word until you have eaten every crumb I put before you.”
With an air of captor, daintily fierce, she led him toward the house and up to the door, which she pushed open before him.
“Come softly, your mother may be still asleep—no, your father is talking—listen!”
A querulous voice, rough with strong feeling, came from the inner room.
“Here, I tell you, is the prophecy of Joseph to prove it, away back in 1832: ‘Verily thus saith the Lord concerning the wars that will shortly come to pass, beginning at the rebellion of South Carolina, which will terminate in the death and misery of many souls. The days will come that war will be poured out upon all nations, beginning at that place; for behold, the Southern States shall be divided against the Northern States, and the Southern States will call on other nations, even the nation of Great Britain, as it is called.’ Now will you doubt again, mother? For persecuting the Saints of the most high God, this republic shall be dashed to pieces like a potter’s vessel. But we shall be safe. The Lord will gather Israel home to the chambers of the mountains against the day of wrath that is coming on the Gentile world. For all flesh hath corrupted itself on the face of the earth, but the Saints shall possess a purified land, upon which there shall be no curse when the Lord cometh. Then shall the heavens open—”
He broke off, for the girl came leading in the son, who, as soon as he saw the white-haired old man with his open book, sitting beside the wasted woman on the bed, flew to them with a glad cry.
They embraced him and smoothed and patted him, tremulously, feebly, with broken thanks for his safe return. The mother at last fell back upon her pillow, her eyes shining with the joy of a great relief, while the father was seized with a fit of coughing that cruelly racked his gaunt frame and left him weak but smiling.
The girl had been placing food upon the table.
“Come, Joel,” she urged, “you must eat—we have all breakfasted, so you must sit alone, but we shall watch you.”
She pushed him into the chair and filled his plate, in spite of his protests.
“Not another word until you have eaten it all.”
“The very sight of it is enough. I am not hungry.”
But
