She held her breath when he held his, she listened
when he listened, her feet fell with velvet stillness when he stepped
with caution. Her confidence in him was like a beautiful dream to
Nathaniel and he trembled when he pictured the destruction of it. After
a little he reached over and as if by accident touched the hand that was
lying on his arm; he dared more after a moment, and drew the warm little
fingers into his great strong palm and held them there, his soul
thrilled by their gentle submissiveness. And then in another breath
there came to still his joy a thought of the terrible power that chained
this girl to the Mormon king. He longed to speak words of encouragement
to her, to instil hope in her bosom, to ask her to confide in him the
secret of the shadow which hung over her, but the memory of what Neil
had said to him held his lips closed.
They had walked in silence for many minutes when the girl stopped.
"It is not very far now," she whispered. "You must go!"
"Only a little farther," he begged.
She surrendered again, hesitatingly, and they went on, more slowly than
before, until they came to where the path met the footway that led to
Obadiah's.
"Now--now you _must_ go," whispered Marion again.
In this last moment Nathaniel crushed her hand against his breast, his
body throbbing with a wild tumult, and a half of what he had meant not
to say fell passionately from his lips.
"Forgive me for--that--back there--Marion," he whispered.
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