e
it a garden."

"Let me train vines over the whipping-post in your garden," suggested
Emeline, turning back the crimson edge of her lip.

"You have heard that a man was publicly whipped on Beaver Island--and he
deserved it. Have you heard also that I myself have been imprisoned by
outsiders, and my life attempted more than once? Don't you know that in
war a leader must be stern if he would save his people from destruction?
Have you never heard a good thing of me, my child?"

Emeline, facing her adversary, was enraged at the conviction which the
moderation and gentleness of a martyr was able to work in her.

"Oh yes, indeed, I have heard one good thing of you--your undertaking
the salvation of eight or nine wives."

"Not yet nine," he responded, humorously. "And I am glad you mentioned
that. It is one of our mysteries that you will learn later. You have
helped me greatly by such a candid unburdening of your mind. For you
must know that you and I are to be more to each other than strangers.
The revelation was given to you when it was given to me in the
Tabernacle. I saw that."

The air was thickening with dusky motes. Emeline fancied that living
dark atoms were pressing down upon her from infinity.

"You must know," she said, with determination, "that I came to Beaver
Island because I hated men, and expected to see nothing but Mormons
here--"

"Not counting them men at all," indulgently supplemented the King of
Beaver, conscious that she was struggling in the most masculine presence
she had ever encountered. He dropped his voice. "My child, you touch me
as no one has touched me yet. There is scarcely need of words between
us. I know what I am to you. You shall not stay on the island if you do
not wish it. Oh, you are going to make me do my best!"

"I wish you would go away!"

"Some Gentile has hurt you, and you are beating your bruised strength on
me."

"Please go away! I don't like you. I am bound to another man."

"You are bound to nobody but me. I have waited a lifetime for you."

"How dare you talk so to me when you have eight wives already!"

"Solomon had a thousand. He was a man of God, though never in his life
was there a moment when he took to his breast a mate. I shall fare
better."

"Did you talk to them all like this?"

"Ask them. They have their little circles beyond which they cannot go.
Have you thoughts in common with your cousin Roxy?"

"Yes, very many," asserted Emeline, doggedly. "