It was at Haun’s Mill that Halsey first heard of this society, and he was deeply concerned.  A young Mormon who had lately come to the place belonged to it, and after one of Halsey’s sermons, in which the posts of the Gate of Life were represented as meekness and forgiveness, this young man came to the preacher by night to confess, but also to vindicate his position.

The missionary’s little party, with the exception of Elvira, who had accepted hospitality at a neighbouring farm, were camping in a meadow not far from a stream called Shoal Creek, which drove the mill.  The logs of their evening fire were still alight.  Susannah sat just within the dark opening of a low canvas-covered waggon; the unsteady flame light fell upon her, and sometimes showed a farther interior where the child lay sleeping.  Halsey was sitting at the roots of a tree, the utensils of a simple supper at his side.  The gentle horses tethered near were to be heard softly cropping the grass, and the sound of the creek came from a farther distance.  Above, the poplar boughs, whose yellow foliage had been thinned by the advancing season, let through the rays of the brilliant stars.  These were the sights and sounds which met the young man’s senses as he came brushing the fallen leaves with his feet.

He leaned against the pole of the farther waggon and looked across the low-glowing fire at the preacher and his wife.

“Look here!  I’m a Danite.  Do you mean to say that the Lord’s not going to accept of me because I can’t stand by and see weak men and women and children killed, or worse than killed, without punishing the murderers?  Supposing that a hundred of Boggs’ men were to come down now and put an end to you, your wife, and your child, would you have me go along with them peaceably afterwards and pray they might be forgiven?”

“What is a Danite?” asked Susannah.

The stranger took off his hat and answered her very respectfully.  “We are under an oath, ma’am, not to tell who belong to us, but we’ve bound ourselves to punish them as take the blood of the helpless and innocent.”

He seemed, as far as the light would show, a well-made youth, and his voice was clear and honest.

Halsey had not spoken, and Susannah asked again, this time of her husband, “Can it be wrong to do as this gentleman says?”

The preacher spoke slowly.  “Vengeance is mine; I will repay, saith the Lord.”

“But,” said the young man eagerly, “the Scripture also says ’There’s a time for wrath,’ and ’he that sheddeth man’s blood, by man shall his blood be shed.’”