He
believed that Obadiah would not easily arouse himself from the strange
stupor into which he had fallen. Meanwhile he would find food and then
conceal himself near the path to intercept Marion.
As he mounted the step he heard for the second time since landing upon
the island the solemn tolling of the great bell at St. James, and as he
paused for an instant to listen, peal upon peal followed the first until
its brazen thunder rolled in one long booming echo through the forests
of the Mormon kingdom. There came a shrill cry at his back and he
whirled about to see the councilor standing in the center of the big
room, his arms outstretched, his face lifted as it had been raised in
prayer at the tolling of that same bell the night before--but this time
it was not prayer that fell from his lips.
"Nat, ye have returned in the hour of vengeance! The hand of God is
descending upon the Mormon kingdom!"
His words came in a gasping, but triumphant cry.
"And to-morrow--to-morrow--" He stepped forward, his voice crooning a
wild joy, "To-morrow--I--shall--be--king!"
As he spoke the cabin trembled, a tremor passed under them, and the
tolling of the bell was lost in a sudden tumult that came like the
bursting crash of low thunder.
"What is it?" cried Nathaniel. He leaped into the room and caught
Obadiah by the arm. "What is it?"
"The hand of God!" whispered the old man again. "Nat--Nat--" It was his
old self that stood grimacing and twisting his hands before Nathaniel
now.
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