d glance that he counted her as
belonging to the dead man whose blood he carried at his heart.

Susannah rode out from that temporary home at nightfall upon the
Danite's horse.

CHAPTER XIV.

It was the season of rain and sleet, of rude northerly winds. The roads,
across a tract of flat fields and in among the low woods that fringed
the rivers, were heavy with mud.

After riding half the night on a pillion behind the Danite, Susannah
entered the Mormon camp. Up and down the sides of a dirty road, in
waggons, in small tents, and in the open, men, women, and children were
lying huddled in family groups. How far these crowds extended she could
not see. Watch-fires were burning here and there, and in the fields on
either side a patrol of Missouri militia were heard scoffing and
shouting in the darkness. The Danite answered the challenge of one of
these men with apparent meekness; Susannah perceived that he had gained
in self-control. When they had entered the road, along the sides of
which the forlorn multitude lay, they travelled for some way upon it,
the Danite speaking in low tones now and then to the Mormon watchers. At
length they came to a place where a few waggons of better description
were standing and a number of horses were tied; here he lifted Susannah
from the horse. Three of the Mormon leaders came up; they evidently
knew her and her story. The eldest took her hand and spoke in broken
tones of the crown which Halsey had won in the unseen city of God.

These were the first words that Susannah had heard in unison with
Halsey's own thoughts, and for his sake they endeared the whole wretched
Mormon encampment to her.

A woman, her head and shoulders wrapped in a shawl, sprang down from one
of the waggons, and Elvira encountered Susannah.

"You expect me to say that I am sorry for you," she said hurriedly; "I
will not. It is not a time for grief. We each of us have just so much
power of being sorry and no more, and the well has gone dry. I am glad
you have come. There are a great many things that one can yet be a
little glad for; but you must make haste to lie down, for we shall soon
enough be called to the march."

The beds shaken down on the floor of the waggon were covered with
reclining women. Some of them squeezed themselves together to make the
place Elvira had vacated large enough for two. Susannah stretched
herself out, loathing with her senses the crowded bed, but with a tender
heart for h