Slowly the reaction came. When he spoke
there was an uneasy gleam in his eyes and his voice was as hard as
steel.
"She will go with me, Councilor! And why?"
Obadiah had laughed softly as he watched the change. Suddenly he jerked
himself erect.
"Sh-h-h!" he whispered. "Keep cool, Nat! Don't show any excitement or
fear. Here comes the man who is to kill you!"
He made no move save with his eyes.
"He is coming to speak with me and to get a good look at you," he added
in excited haste. "Appear friendly. Agree with what I say. He is the
chief of sheriffs, the king's murderer--Arbor Croche!"
He turned as if he had just seen the approaching figure. And he
whispered softly, "Winnsome's father!"
Arbor Croche! Nathaniel gave an involuntary shudder as he turned with
Obadiah. Croche, chief of sheriffs, scourge of the mainland--the Attila
of the Mormon kingdom, whose very name caused the women of the shores to
turn white and on whose head the men had secretly set a price in gold!
Without knowing it his hand went under his coat. Obadiah saw the
movement and as he advanced to meet the officer of the king he jerked
the arm back fiercely. Half a dozen paces away the chief of sheriffs
paused and bowed low. But the councilor stood erect, as he had stood
before the king, smiling and nodding his head.
"Ah, Croche," he greeted, "good morning!"
"Good morning, Councilor!"
"Sheriff, I would have you meet Captain Nathaniel Plum, master of the
sloop _Typhoon_.
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