“It will give me great pleasure, Councilor,” he interrupted.  “I shall escort you myself if you will allow me, Captain Plum!”

“Thank you,” said Nathaniel.

“Captain Plum is to remain with me throughout the day,” added Obadiah.  “Come at seven—­to my place.  Ah, I see that people are assembling near the jail!”

“We have changed our plans somewhat, Councilor.”  The officer turned to Nathaniel.  “You will see the whipping within half an hour, Captain Plum.”  He turned away with another bow to the councilor and hastened in the direction of Strang’s office.

“So that is the gentleman who thinks he is going to put a bullet through me!” exclaimed Nathaniel when the officer had gone beyond hearing.  He laughed, and there was a kind of wild expectant joy in his voice.  “Obadiah, can you not make arrangements for him to go with me alone?”

“He will not go with you at all, Nat,” gloated the old man.  “Ho, ho, we are playing at his own game—­treachery.  When he calls at my place you will be aboard ship.”

“But I should like to have a talk with him—­alone, and in the woods.  God—­I know a man at Grand Traverse Bay whose wife and daughter—­”

“Sh-h-h-h!” interrupted the councilor.  “Would you kill little Winnsome’s father?”

“Her father?  That animal!  That murderer!  Is it true?”

“But you should have seen her mother, Nat, you should have seen her mother!” The old man twisted his hands, like a miser ravished by the sight of gold.  “She was beautiful—­as beautiful as a wild flower, and she killed herself three years ago to save the birth of another child into this hell.  Little Winn is like her mother, Nat.”

“And she lives with him?”

“Er, yes—­and guarded, oh, so carefully guarded by Strang, Nat!  Yes, I guess that some day she will be a queen.”

“Great God!” cried the young man.  “And you—­you live in this cesspool of sin and still believe in a Heaven?”

“Yes, I believe in a Heaven.  And my reward there shall be great.  Ho, ho, I am taking no middle road, Nat!”

They had passed in a semicircle beyond the temple and now approached a squat building constructed of logs, which Obadiah had pointed out as the jail.  A glance satisfied Nathaniel that it was so situated that an admirable view of the proceedings could be obtained from the rear of the structure in which Strang had his office.  Several score of people had already assembled about the prison and stood chatting with that tense interest and anticipation with which the mob always awaits public infliction of the law’s penalties.  A third of them were women.  As Nathaniel had previously noted, the feminine part of the Mormon population wore their hair either in braids down their backs or in thick curls flowing over their shoulders and with the exception of three or four were attired in skirts that just concealed their knees.  Obadiah halted his companion close to a group of half a dozen of these women and nudged him slyly.