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Updated: May 23, 2025
From a screened window in the king's building two men had witnessed the exciting scene near the jail. One of these men was Strang. The other was Arbor Croche. At another window a few feet away, hidden from their eyes by a high desk and masses of papers and books, Winnsome Croche was crumpled up on the floor hardly daring to breathe through fear of betraying her presence.
With a powerful stroke of his paddle Neil brought the canoe in to the shore. "There!" he whispered. "You have only to cross this point to reach your boat." He stretched out his long arm and in the silence the two shook hands. "If you should happen to think of a way that we might get Winnsome " he added, coloring. The sudden grip of his companion's fingers made him flinch.
He drew her lips to his own, and then she lowered him gently and stood up in the starlight, looking first at Neil and next down at him; and then she turned quickly back to the sea. From down near the shore she called back some word, and with a shrill cry Winnsome followed her. Nathaniel struggled to his elbow, to his knees staggered to his feet.
"I've got word but no note!" he whispered hoarsely. "Quick! Is it worth " "Yes! Yes!" Nathaniel dug the gold pieces out of his pockets and dropped them into the jailer's outstretched hand. "I've had my boy watching Winnsome Croche's house," continued the sheriff, white with the knowledge of the risk he was taking. "An hour ago Winnsome came out of the house and went into the woods.
The water soaked through to his hot, numb body, restoring his reason and strength, and he buried his face in it and drank like one who had been near to dying of thirst. Then he returned to Neil. Winnsome was holding his head in her arms. He dropped upon his knees beside them and saw that life was returning full and strong in Neil's face. "You will be able to walk in a few minutes," he said.
"Neil, a man can die easier when he knows that a woman loves him!" He had risen to his feet and was walking back and forth through the thick gloom. "I'm glad!" Neil's voice came to him softly, as though he scarcely dared to speak the words aloud. After a moment he added, "Have you got a pencil, Nat? I would like to leave a little note for Winnsome."
Yet he experienced no fear, no loss of confidence. Each moment added to his faith in himself. Before noon he would be on his way to the Mormon kingdom, by nightfall he would be upon its shores. After that He examined the pistol that Winnsome had given him. There were five shots in it and he smiled joyously as he saw that it had been loaded by an experienced hand.
He saw the boat drifting out into the night, and Winnsome standing alone at the water-edge, her sobbing cries of entreaty, of terror, following it unanswered. He tottered down toward her, gaining new strength at each step, but when he reached her the boat was no longer to be seen and Winnsome's face was whiter than the sands under her feet.
Tell him that her fate is shortly to be as cruel as mine tell him that Winnsome loves him and that she will escape and come to him on the mainland." Like words of fire they had burned themselves in his brain and as Nathaniel repeated them he thought of that other broken heart that had sobbed out its anguish to him in the castle chamber.
"Do you want to see her?" Neil hesitated. "No. Your boots gouge my shoulder. Take them off." The scene had changed when Nathaniel took his position again. The jury had left its platform and was filing through a small door. Winnsome and the king were along. The girl had turned from him.
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