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From the scripture recitation, given in tones so cold and impersonal that they made Townsley shiver, his voice drifted into prayer: "We thank thee, oh, Lord, God of Hosts, for the glorious victory Thou hast given us this night over Thy enemies. We have heard Thy voice. We have obeyed Thy commands. The wicked have been laid low.
When they reached the wagon all signs of rebellion had passed. "Are you ready?" Townsley asked. "Ready." Brown's metallic voice rang. The horses were hitched to the wagon, the provisions and equipment loaded. Brown turned to his loyal followers: "Arm yourselves."
And there were the Deacons and Priests of the Aaronic Order and other Elders and Bishops of the Order of Melchisedek to advise with upon the temporal and spiritual affairs of Israel; to labour and pray with Peregrine Noble, who had declared that he would no longer be as limber as a tallowed rag in the hands of the priesthood, and to deliver him over to the buffetings of Satan in the flesh if he persisted in his blasphemy; to rebuke Ozro Cutler for having brazenly sought to pay on his tithing some ten pounds of butter so redolent of garlic that the store had refused to take it from him in trade; to counsel Mary Townsley that Pye Townsley would come short of his glory before God if she remained rebellious in the matter of his sealing other jewels to his crown; to teach certain unillumined Saints something of the ethics of unbranded cattle; and to warn settlers against isolating themselves in the outlying valleys where they would be a temptation to the red sons of Laman.
Townsley, am to be a deserted wife, a 'grass widow, and all as a punishment for being heartless, too fond of pleasure, and for not having had any real love for my only boy! What a dire, dire punishment, Harold!"
Flash after flash, roar after roar, an endless throb of earth and air from the titanic bombardment from the skies. The flaming sky was sublime a changing, flashing, trembling splendor. Townsley was the only coward in the group of stolid figures standing under the shed. He watched by the lightning the expression of Brown's face with awe.
He advised me to come down here with Townsley, and see, for myself, just what I ought to believe." "You'll act as my friend, won't you?" begged Rhinds, tremulously. "You'll show Townsley the absurdity of this whole business. Simms, I look to your friendship, for you are my friend, aren't you?" "Possibly," nodded the other, dryly.
Townsley entered the parlor her face was pale and careworn. As she seated herself some little distance from the table, bearing the precious parcel upon which so many hopes were now founded, she looked up at the clock. "I could not go out to-night; he will be leaving soon" there was a touch of wistfulness in her voice.
Townsley took the hint with a grain of salt, but what he heard was enough to bring alarm. The thing Brown had hinted was incredible. But as Townsley looked at the leader he realized that he was not an ordinary man. There was something extraordinary about him.
If Oliver should kill his father or the old man should kill the brother! He couldn't face the hideous possibility. Yet he couldn't stop them. Fortunately there were no other witnesses to the fight. Townsley was busy at the stable with the team. Weiner and Thompson had gone into the house to complete their packing of provisions for the journey.
Townsley surrendered. The threat was unmistakable. He saw that he was trapped. Whether he liked it or not, he had packed his camp outfit, harnessed his horses and driven over the trail on a hunting expedition. He knew now that they were stalking human game. It sent the chills down his spine. But there was no help for it. He had to stick.
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