s to her
face.

"Are you married now?"

"No."

Again the judge consulted his notes, and held a whispered colloquy with
the two men at his table.

"Mrs. Danton, when you were arrested there were five children found in
your home. To whom do they belong?"

"Me."

"Are you their mother?"

"Yes."

"Your husband Danton is the father of only one, the eldest, according to
your former statement. Is that correct?"

"Yes."

"Who, then, is the father--or who are the fathers, of your other
children?"

"I do not know."

She said it with the most stony-faced calmness, with utter disregard
of what significance her words had. A strong, mystic wall of cold flint
insulated her. Strangely it came to Shefford how impossible either to
doubt or believe her. Yet he did both! Judge Stone showed a little heat.

"You don't know the father of one or all of these children?" he queried,
with sharp rising inflection of voice.

"I do not."

"Madam, I beg to remind you that you are under oath."

The woman did not reply.

"These children are nameless, then--illegitimate?"

"They are."

"You swear you are not the sealed wife of some Mormon?"

"I swear."

"How do you live--maintain yourself?"

"I work."

"What at?"

"I weave, sew, bake, and work in my garden."

"My men made note of your large and comfortable cabin, even luxurious,
considering this country. How is that?"

"My husband left me comfortable."

Judge Stone shook a warning finger at the defendant.

"Suppose I were to sentence you to jail for perjury? For a year? Far
from your home and children! Would you speak--tell the truth?"

"I am telling the truth. I can't speak what I don't know.... Send me to
jail."

Baffled, with despairing, angry impatience, Judge Stone waved the woman
away.

"That will do for her. Fetch the next one," he said.

One after another he examined three more women, and arrived, by various
questions and answers different in tone and temper, at precisely the
same point as had been made in the case of Mrs. Danton. Thereupon the
proceedings rested a few moments while the judge consulted with his
assistants.

Shefford was grateful for this respite. He had been worked up to an
unusual degree of interest, and now, as the next Mormon woman to be
examined was she whom he had loved and loved still, he felt rise in
him emotion that threatened to make him conspicuous unless it could
be hidden. The answers of these Mormon women had been no