New York ledger vol. 27 no. 3

              LIFE IN SALT LAKE CITY; 
OR, 
A Visit to the Mormons. 

By LEON LEWIS, 
AUTHOR OF "THE GIRL HERMIT," "THE BOY MA-GICIAN," "THE BROKEN HOME," "RED KNIFE," ETC., ETC., ETC. 

CHAPTER XXIII. 
A SUDDEN REVERSE. 
Let fortune empty her whole quiver on me, I have a soul that, like an ample shield, Can take in all, and verge enough for more. 
DRYDEN. 
Fate had indeed played Winnie a singular prank. 
The silver mine to which Mountain Jack had conducted her, and which he had supposed known only to himself, was also known to at least True and Coulter and their minions. 
And now, in the very place in which she had expected to take refuge, the poor girl stood dis-covered in the presence of her enemies. 
As terrible, however, as was this freak of chance, Winnie remained undaunted. 
She still retained possession of the revolver Jack had taken from True, and she had prepared herself to use it for her own and her father's protection. 
"Yes, it's the gal herself," the Elder repeated, dancing about like a madman. "What a blaze o’ fortin'!” 
And striking an attitude of pretended grati-tude, with his eyes raised, he added, in a sing-song voice: 
"Harp o' David! can it be 
That sech a joy has come to me ?" 
"Evidently." returned Coulter. "There she is, and no mistake about it. Let's proceed to take the prisoner." 
"And take a kiss or two for the trouble she's made us, the little honeysuckle!" proposed True, in a frenzy of delight. "That is, I'll take the kiss, Bishop, while you hold her. To think o' findin' her here at the very minute when my soul was descendin' into the shadder of the sol-emncholies. Attention, company! The best foot for'ard! A grand quickstep together! Grab right and grab left!" 
And with these grotesque exclamations, the Elder advanced with still more grotesque move-ments, extending his brawny arms with the evident design of making sure of his captive by laying violent hands upon her. 
He had scarcely signified this purpose, how-ever, when Winnie levelled her revolver, taking aim at his heart. 
"Back!" she commanded, in calm, resolute tones, as she advanced rapidly into the circle illuminated by Coulter's candle. "Back, or you die!" 
This sudden demonstration was so menacing that both True and Coulter recoiled abruptly, and without taking proper note of their course and footing. The consequence was that both immediately tumbled from the narrow ridge of rock along which they had been advancing, each bringing up in the depths of one of the yawning pits of which mention has been made, while their light became extinguished, and a shower of loose earth and stones came rattling around them. The way being thus opened, Winnie hurried along the ridge in question toward the central chamber of the mine, and consequently toward the spot where her father was lying. The light of a candle with which Hawk and Mink were coming to the relief of their employers was sufficient to show her a safe footing. 
"Back, both of you !" was her stern injunc-tion to the couple, as she again levelled her pistol. "Don't try to stop me!" 
If a man had uttered these words, the two ruffians would have drawn their revolvers and taken their chances. But they had received strict orders not to harm the girl, and they had also realized that she could kill both of them with perfect impunity, as their lives were of lit-tle consequence, in True's sight, in comparison with hers. This double consideration caused them to give way, and in another moment she had reached the physician's immediate presence. 
"Oh, my poor father!" she cried, throwing her arms around him and bursting into tears. 
"Is it thus that we meet again ?" 
Dr. Burton had been no less astonished than were his enemies at her presence in the silver mine, but he had already comprehended the secret of that presence. 
"My poor child!" he returned, responding to her caresses as well as his bonds permitted. 
"Mountain Jack came to your rescue? He brought you here?" 
The girl dumbly assented. 
They had no time to say more before True and Coulter, finding themselves safe, and recovering their self-possession, began bawling for assist-ance. 
"A light! a light!" shouted the one. 
"Help! murder!" vociferated the other. 
Hawk hastened to their assistance, light in hand, while his companion watched the father and daughter, placing himself between them and the entrance of the mine. 
"You see that I am armed, father," whispered Winnie quickly. "I have a pistol Mr. Weber took from the Elder. Shall I not resist capture?" 
"It would be useless. There are four of them." 
"But Mountain Jack may arrive in time to help us," protested the resolute girl. "I expect him every minute." 
"But what can you do?" 
Winnie made a significant jesture, as she grasped her revolver still more firmly. 
"They would send you bullet for bullet," de-clared the physician, with a moan. "They would take your life, in addition to mine, if driven to desperation." 
"We can at least die together!" 
"True, child ; but all is not lost. I do not want you to stain your innocent hands with blood—no, not even with the blood of these sinful wretches. Our case is not so desperate as that. The good God has not deserted us. This very meeting should bid us be hopeful—should give us new firmness to bear our afflictions." 
"Then I must again be True's prisoner?" 
"It will be better so. These men will answer violence with violence. Let us bow to the inev-itable. It is enough that a merciful Heaven is still above us. We can at least try to deserve its bounties." 
By this time True and his confederate had been released from their awkward predicament, with only a few bruises and scratches, and they now approached the physician and his daughter, with all the smirks and smiles of a savage tri-umph. 
"Look out, Bishop," enjoined Mink, who had not once taken his eyes from the girl. "I think she means mischief." 
"The little honeysuckle has my revolver," muttered the Elder, as he came to a halt near the girl. "But her pa can tell her better'n to use it." 
"I have told her so," said the Doctor calmly. 
"And so she gives up the weepon?" 
By way of answer, Winnie placed the revolver in the Elder's hand. 
"Good," he commented, as he pocketed the weapon. "Glad to see you both so sensible. How did you come to be here, Miss Winnie?" 
The girl was silent, giving all her attention to her father. 
"Did jumpin' Jack bring you here?" resumed the Elder. "But of course he did. You needn't answer. I know all about the matter. How lucky it was that he brought you to the very spot where the Bishop and I had engaged to meet each other!" 
"Yes, lucky enough!" chimed in Coulter. 
"And so here we are," proceeded the Elder. 
"The gal and the Doctor are our pris'ners. Sech bein' the case, let us proceed to business." 
"Well, sir?" queried the Doctor, speaking for Winnie, as well as for himself. 
"You realize jest how the case stands?" was the Elder's next inquiry. "Or shall I climb a telegraph pole and explain matters to you?" 
"Namely, that you are prisoners?" suggested Coulter. 
"And that the Bishop has all yer money. Doctor, to the amount of twenty-three thousand four hundred dollars?" exclaimed True. 
"And that the Elder has procured a dozen in-dictments against you?" cried Coulter. "And that Mrs. Burton is now at the Bishop's house, as unsuspectin' as a lamb? Haw! haw!" 
"And that every Gentile in Salt Lake, as well as every Mormon, supposes you to be a desper-ate villain. Doctor? He! he!" 
The physician interrupted this stream of mock-ing questions by a gesture. 
"You may be sure," he said, still speaking calmly, "that my daughter and I both compre-hend our situation. We are your prisoners, and all the other facts in the case may be as you have asserted. But what follows?" 
"Why, it seems to us that you had better make terms with us," said Coulter. 
"To what effect ?" 
"Why, you had better consent to the Elder's marriage with Winnie, and at the same time al-low me to retain as a gift the twenty-three thou-sand four hundred dollars before mentioned. The Elder thinks he cannot live without the girl, and I am certain that I cannot get along without the money." 
The physician looked equally pained and as-tonished. 
"In regard to Winnie," was his reply, "all I can say is, that she will never marry Elder True. We will both die before we consent to this wick-edness. And in regard to the money in ques-tion, we shall never condone your felony, Bishop Coulter. You may rob me, if you have the power, but I will never be a consenting party to your baseness." 
The conspirators exchanged glances. 
"He's still mouthing big words," muttered Coulter. 
"As obstinit's a mule," declared True angrily. 
"How would it do to have him taken to the City Prison, to await his trial on the indictments ? It's sartain as preachin' that he couldn't get bail. The Gentiles, to a man, believe him to be guilty of everything!" 
"Impossible!" murmured the physician in-voluntarily. "Being innocent, how could I be thought so guilt?" 
"It's no matter how the case happens to be so," responded Coulter, with a strange smile. 
"It is enough that the case is exactly as we are stating it. The indictments have been duly found. The witnesses are in waiting. You are universally believed to be guilty. You could not get a dollar of bail, nor could the Federal offi-cials be induced to give you the least assist-ance !" 
"Well, what does that prove ? Only that we are the victims of a dreadful conspiracy!" mur-mured the Doctor. 
A terrible thought struck Winnie, as she marked the seriousness, the certainty, with which the conspirators spoke of the Doctor's position. 
"May not one of these men have pretended to be you, dear father?" she demanded. "The Bishop is of about your size and build, and by a clever disguise could pass for you, especially at night, and among strangers. Or they may have hired some still more competent villain to per-sonate you!" 
The plotters again exchanged glances, but without appearing to take any notice of the girl's observation. 
"They are certainly carrying out some deeply laid villainy," was the physician's response. 
"But they may yet come to grief." 
"And how, if you please?" sneered Coulter. 
"We have at least one sincere friend, who may come to our assistance—yes, two." 
"You refer to Weber and Osburn, I suppose?" 
"Yes, I refer to Weber and Osburn." 
"And Harry is already here," declared Winnie, with a sudden hope. "I heard some of True's men speaking of him, saying that he had es-caped from their clutches and gone on to the city." 
"Is that so?" cried the Doctor joyfully. "Then we may indeed look for relief!" 
"Not a bit of it," declared True. "When yer Harry hears what is said of you, he will take the next stage for the East."
"Never!" exclaimed Winnie. "Harry will never believe a word against my father's honor. The only effect of your indictments will be to convince him that we are your victims. Within two days, I venture to say, he will come to our relief." 
The disgust and anger with which the plotters received this hopefulness can be imagined. 
"He will never be able to help you," affirmed Coulter. "In the first place, he will never know where you are. In the second and last place, he will be powerless to help you." 
"He can at least expose you to Mr. Young—to your superior," said Winnie. 
"Pardon us, but we don't care anything more for 'Mr. Young' than we do for Osburn," re-turned the Bishop. "We happen to be our own bosses, as you will soon discover, and have only our own good will and pleasure to guide us!” 
At this strange speech, the physician and Win-nie both looked at the speaker attentively. 
"You don't fear Mr. Young, then?" murmured the latter. "In this case, you don't believe in him, of course?" 
"It's of little concern to you what we do be-lieve, I reckon." returned Coulter. "The thing for you to know and realize is, that 'Mr. Young' cannot be of the least service to you in your pres-ent strait, neither can Mr. Osburn. And such being the case, you had better think twice be-fore you drive us to extremities. Has not this quarrel gone far enough? Come, let us be friends. Consent, Miss Winnie, to accept the homage of our friend True, and we can termi-nate our little differences in a general jubilee." 
"We utterly refuse to accept the terms you offer us," said Winnie spiritedly. 
"Think ag'in, gal," enjoined True savagely, as a cloud of rage swept over his features. "That answer is final, gentlemen," asserted the physician emphatically. "Why bandy words on the subject ?" 
"Why, indeed?" growled Coulter, turning to his associate in guilt. "We have met here in vain, as I feared we should. We must now re-sort to stern measures." 
"Yes, we must," assented True, with com-pressed lips. "And sence we must—why, we must!"
 As he uttered this conviction, the thwarted plotter turned to his minions. 
"See here, boys," he said to them. "You must take the Doctor in hand ag'in, and take him to the place in this case made and provided. Understand?" 
Both Hawk and Mink bowed assent. 
"Look sharp, then," added the Elder. "Bind and gag him ag'in, and let me see him vanish!" 
The two ruffians instantly set to work, and in less than five minutes had reduced the physician to his former muteness and helplessness, se-cured a rope under his arms, and drawn him out of the mine, taking their departure with him. 
"That's the end of him," muttered the Elder grimly, after he had scanned Winnie's face in-tently, in hopes of seeing some sign of weak-ness. "And now to cook our own hash, Bishop. The air of this hole begins to oppress me. Let's foller the boys up to the outer world, taking the gal with us." 
This movement was instantly made, and the entrance of the mine was secured, exactly as Jack had found and left it. 
"Hallo," suddenly muttered Coulter. "Some one is coming." 
The trio had listened only a few moments, when the rescuers of the Elder—Adder, Grizzly and Buffalo—made their appearance, in a state of sullen vexation, with the three horses aban-doned by Mountain Jack and Winnie. 
"You are jest in time, boys," exclaimed True. 
"I was jest wonderin' how this young woman would manage to travel. Seen anything of the jumpin' Jack?" 
"No," answered Adder, who had constituted himself the leader of his companions. "We've scoured all the trails you suggested, but we haven't seen so much as a footmark." 
"And in consequence you're bilin'?" 
"Yes, as mad as hornets." 
"Well, I’ll tell you how to get good-natured. You know where the jumpin' Jack lives?" 
"Certainly. On one of the slopes of Little Mountain, not more'n a mile from the Look-out." 
"Very good. You jest go and smoke out his wife and children. That'll give our mighty hun-ter a little business of his own to attend to. You needn't kill the woman and her brats. Let 'em run to the woods. But lay the house and every-thing in it in ashes, and if you see anything of the jumpin' Jack, don't fail to kill him at sight." 
The three ruffians received this order with the most wicked and malignant pleasure, and True resumed: 
"All is safe at the Look-out, I suppose?" 
"Yes," answered Adder. "Beetle and Grass-hopper have arrived from the Bishop's, and Badg-er and Beaver from the Jordan bridge, where they failed to make connection with you. All four of them are now at the Look-out, awaiting orders." True rubbed his hands together gleefully. 
"All right," was his comment. "They can bear a helpin' hand, if you need it. And now, off with you." 
The trio accordingly departed. 
"And now I will go home," announced Coulter to his confederate. "Mrs. Burton supposes that I am looking for her husband, and it is about time for me to report progress. And especially is it time for us to get out of this neighborhood, inasmuch as that Mountain Jack may not be far distant." 
And with this the Bishop also departed. 

CHAPTER XXIV. 
WINNIE AT CHURCH ISLAND. 
Who does his best his circumstance allows, Does well, acts nobly; angels could no more. 
NIGHT THOUGHTS. 
The Elder stood looking after his allies until the last of them had passed from his sight, and then he turned smilingly to his young compan-ion, and said: 
"And now for ourselves, Miss Winnie. Yer pa is gone ; my men ditto. Reckon you see that I'm ag'in boss of the shanty." 
It being impossible to gainsay the meaning of this declaration, the girl remained silent. 
"But here are horses for both of us," resumed True. "Yer own horse, Winnie, and yer own saddle. I'll help you mount." 
"I don't need your assistance, sir," answered Winnie coldly, as she availed herself of a large stone lying hard by, and mounted lightly into her saddle. 
"You will, at least, permit me to drive for you," muttered True, who had secured her horse's bridle, and at the same moment mounted his own steed. "And also to show you the way." 
Thus they took their departure. 
Riding slowly over the trackless waste of ledge and gully, they soon reached a spot so wild, so lonely, so desolate, that the captive, looking around her, involuntarily shuddered, while a look of keen anxiety appeared in her eyes. 
"Of course I shall travel by a secret path," explained True, noticing her emotion. " Don't mean to be seen by nobody. True, it'll take longer to reach our journey's end by this route, but the day is all before us, and I an't in no hurry with such a charmin' companion." 
This compliment was heightened by the smirk-ing expression with which he regarded his cap-tive. The girl, however, did not deign to reply to him, or even to notice his speech. 
Pursuing the secret path of which he had spoken, but whose existence was scarcely to be detected by Winnie, Elder True directed his course toward the north and west, with the evi-dent intention of traversing the Salt Lake Val-ley to the northward of Salt Lake City. 
As Winnie remained silent, True became taci-turn, but he maintained a close hold and a vigi-lant watch upon his captive. He was on his guard against any attempt at escape; and Win-nie was wise enough to make none. 
Crossing the old road which leads from Kan-yon Creek to Emigration Creek, True conducted his captive by gloomy and dangerous passes in the shadows of the mountains, where they en-countered no living creature. Even the birds seemed to avoid these deep and dreary recesses between the hills. 
Crossing the upper fork of Emigration Creek, and pursuing the Kanyon in a north-westerly direction—a divergence from True's course being here rendered necessary—they threaded the deep and shadowy Kanyon, a mere groove cut by the waters of centuries in the primeval rock. On either side of them rose the tall, steep walls of stone, rugged, bare and grim, their bald, verdureless faces frowning darkly upon the two travellers, who seemed so tiny in the midst of all that vastness. 
They encountered no travellers in the Kan-yon. They did, indeed, behold two or three par-ties of horsemen and travellers on their way to Salt Lake City, but True was keenly alive to the possibilities of such meetings, and always de-tected the travellers in time to turn aside with his captive into some wooded niche or nook without being seen. 
Once away from the vicinity of Emigration Kanyon, the danger of discovery was greatly lessened. True resumed his course in a west-erly or north-westerly direction, riding through narrow passes known only to long-settled Mor-mons, and plunging into a scene of dreariness and loneliness, surpassing in those qualities any gully or kanyon they had yet traversed. 
About noon True came to a halt in a wild am-plitheatre-like dell, inclosed by the tall grim mountains. Here was found both grass and water. He tethered the horses, giving them a wide range, and then turned his attention to his captive. 
"You are right pale, Miss Winnie," he ob-served, scrutinizing her features. "It's fortu-nit I happen to have some food with me. We'll follow the example of our beasts, and eat our dinner." 
He drew from his pocket a paper packet, which he unrolled, displaying bread, cold meat, and cheese, in liberal quantity. Poising the paper with its contents on his broad red palm, he offered the food to Winnie. 
"Help yerself," he enjoined. "Pitch right in, Winnie. A little bread and meat will bring back the color to yer cheeks in no time." 
"Keep it yourself," returned Winnie, shrug-ging her shoulders. "I prefer to fast." 
True laughed coarsely and sat down upon the grass, applying himself with zest to his repast. Winnie paced up and down the secluded dell, resting her wearied limbs by a change of motion, and busying her active brain with plans and pos-sibilities of escape from her brutal captor. 
As the reader knows by this time, Winnie Bur-ton was no timorous, trembling being, but a brave, spirited, resolute girl, with a clear, keen intellect, and a daring soul. Therefore, as may be imagined, she was not utterly cast down by her unexpected reverse of fortune. She did not believe that Providence would desert her at a period when she so needed aid and protection. She believed, too, when her first sorrow and despair had spent itself, that Mountain Jack was upon her trail, and that he would ultimately rescue both her and her father. 
But how could she assist Mountain Jack in his search for her ? How direct him to the refuge of whose locality she did not know herself? A bright thought struck her. She glanced at Elder True, but he was absorbed in his meal, and only occasionally looked up at her. Walking slowly to and fro, she took from her pocket her small red morocco-covered diary, in which she had been wont to write down the few events in her hitherto quiet existence. With her back to the Elder, she tore out the fly-leaf of the tiny vol-ume, and restored the book to her pocket. In the course of a few more turns to and fro, she managed to impale the crumpled leaf, on which was written her name, upon a thorn-bush, in a manner to escape a casual eye, yet to arrest the attention of one like Mountain Jack, who would be seeking everywhere some trace of her pres-ence. 
The manoeuvre was scarcely accomplished when True arose and approached her. Winnie abruptly retreated from the thorn-bush, a sud-den terror causing her pallor to deepen. 
"Don't fly from me, Winnie!" cried the Elder, passing the telltale thorn quite unsuspiciously. 
"I hope I an't such an ogre as you make out. Come, come. Why can't you be friendly ?" 
"I am friendly—with my friends." 
The Elder's cheeks glowed with a sullen flush. 
"So you don't count me a friend, eh?" he questioned. 
"Of course not. Do you think me demented, Elder True? You have proved yourself not only my enemy, but the enemy of my parents, and I regard you precisely as I should regard a reptile that tried to sting me, a tiger that was about to attack me, or a savage of the plains who wanted to roast me at the stake." 
Elder True's coarse face grew fairly purple with sudden rage. 
"So you regard me as a 'reptile,' a 'tiger,' a 'savage of the plains,'" he muttered, in a growl-ing voice. "You compliment me—" 
"I know I do," said Winnie coolly. "You are in reality much worse than the reptile, the tiger, or the savage, to which I compared you, for you have a soul. I suppose, and have had the ad-vantages of civilization, and ought to behave yourself. One can find excuse for brutes and savages ; but for you there is none." 
A dangerous gleam shot from the eyes of the Mormon Elder. 
"I shouldn't think you'd dare talk so to me!" he exclaimed. "If I am worse than brutes and savages, I must be a dangerous person to make angry." 
Winnie laughed at him mockingly. 
"How am I to interpret that speech?" she asked undauntedly. "Are you threatening me? Or are you trying to show me the lovable side of your character, in order that I may consent to become the seventh Mrs. True?" 
The Elder controlled his anger by a strong ef-fort. but became sullen and cross. 
"We'd better be off ag'in," he said. "Our journey isn't half finished.” 
Turning away, he untethered the horses, tight-ened the saddle-girths, and led Winnie's horse to her. Disdaining his assistance, the girl mount-ed from a stone conveniently at hand. True also mounted, took her bridle, and they resumed their journey. 
Still pursuing secret paths through gullies and kanyons, and avoiding all encounters with travellers, True and his captive rode onward with what speed the way permitted. Winnie continued silent, and True busied himself with his schemes, now and then feasting his eyes upon the pale, fair, resolute face of the young girl. 
"She'll make a fine contrast to the six exist-in' Mrs. Trues," he thought, with considerable exultation. "The others are of every nation-ality, coarse, awk'ard, ignorant creturs; but she's refined, educated and intelligent. I make the others support me by their hard work, but Winnie I'll make my show wife, a kind of orna-mental, high-spirited lady, to wear fine clothes and keep her hands white. I wouldn't think of settin' her to weavin’, or workin’ in the fields, and sech work; but I should like to break her spirit, and I will!" 
He set his teeth together in a grim determina-tion, and struck his horse smartly by way of em-phasizing his resolution. 
Late in the afternoon the two riders came out upon a mountain ridge, which commanded a wide view, and here True checked the horses for a moment, scanning the scene with a close gaze, as did Winnie. 
It was an extended prospect that spread be-fore them. To the southward, some fifteen miles distant, lay the Mormon capital—the city of the desert. The river Jordan like a silver ribbon skirted the city, wound through the bar-rens, and lost itself in the distance. The great Salt Lake—the Dead Sea of America—glittering like an immense jewel, filled the space to the westward and northward, and enchained the eye by the splendor it derived from the declining sun. 
True's glances sought out among all the ob-jects in the landscapes, and among the islands of the lake, the island formerly known as Ante-lope island—probably so called from the fact that no antelopes were ever upon it—and now known as Church Island. 
"Do you see that island, shaped like a di'mon', Miss Winnie?" True inquired, pointing it out to her. "That is Church Island, where the church herds are pastured—" 
"The church herds?" 
"Yes. This people pays tithes to the Mormon church, you know, and the farmers choose to pay mostly in kind: a tenth of their grain, a tenth of their cattle, and so on. Brother Brig-ham has devoted this island for the pasturage of the tribute cattle, and very good pasturage it affords too, in the summer time. You see that the mountain peaks on it are very high, full three thousand feet. You may not know that, hidden among the ridges and peaks, are some queer holes, grottoes they call 'em, I believe." "Yes, I have heard of the Church Island grottoes," said Winnie. 
"You have? Well, you are about to make their closeter acquaintance. You must have wondered where we were bound to. We are going to Church Island, where you will be as much hidden away as if you were buried." 
Winnie did not reply to this declaration, and presently True urged the horses forward again. 
The evening was at hand, full of a pale light gloom and soft shadows, when at last the riders came out upon the beach of the great Salt Lake at a point where a small cottage was situated. The cottage looked deserted, but True rode up to it boldly, dismounted, and assisted Winnie to dismount. A low, ruinous shed near at hand served as a stable for the weary steeds, and True turned them into it without delay. Then, keeping a tight hold upon Winnie's arm, he led her down to the water's edge. Here, among tall-growing sedges, lay concealed a boat, and having brought it to light, he ordered Winnie to enter it. She did so. He pushed off the shallow, flat-bottomed craft, sprang in, seized the oars, and pulled away from the land. 
The water was shallow, and the progress of the boat was slow. Poor Winnie was tempted to spring overboard and attempt to reach the shore, and only the knowledge that she would surely be overtaken by her enemy deterred her. The thought that Mountain Jack would scarcely be able to trace her to Church Island began to depress her, and her anxieties concerning her father weighed heavily upon her. 
"Oh, if Harry Osburn could only know of our situation!" she thought, with a thrill of anguish. "He would never rest until he had rescued father and mother and me. Poor Harry! I begin to fear that we shall never meet again." 
She drew her sacque closer about her chest, as a cold wind swept down some mountain gorge upon the lake, chilling her to the bone. 
The transit to Church Island was made in si-lence on the part of the captor and captive. The one worked at the oars, regarding Winnie with sinister exultation. The other crouched low in the bottom of the boat, her face drooping against the side, her sorrowing eyes seeing only the phosphorescent gleams of the water. 
They reached the island at last, and True beached the boat at a favorable spot, and sprang out upon the land, offering his hand to Winnie. Rejecting his proffered assistance, the girl leaped out upon the wet soil. True gripped her arm and hurried her up the beach. 
They soon came to a low, primitive sort of dwelling, which was occupied by a herder of the church droves—a man after True's own heart, and, as it happened, a man who had pro-cured his appointment through True's influence. He had served the Elder in many ways that should have brought him under the ban of the law, and regarded True as his well-paying pa-tron, and his "friend at court." 
True knocked at the door of the cottage, which was presently opened by the herder, a low-browed Englishman, who appeared in his shirt sleeves. 
"It is I, Gotekin—Elder True!" said the Mormon Elder hastily. "I have brought the girl I told you of. Is your wife up?" 
A stir inside the cottage answered the ques-tion. A moment later a candle was lighted and brought to the door by a slatternly, sullen-faced, cross-eyed woman, the wife of Gotekin. 
"Come in, Elder, come in!" exclaimed the herder. "The room is all ready for the young lady, although you wasn't sure you'd want it. Everything is as snug as a trivet." 
He retreated into the room, and Elder True followed him, half leading and half dragging Winnie with him.
The room which they had thus entered was low and square, with two windows and a capa-cious fireplace. It contained a bed, table and chairs. A door opened from it into an inner room, into which Mrs. Gotekin disappeared, tak-ing the candle with her. 
She came back almost immediately, and in-vited Winnie into the adjoining chamber. The captive would have hung back, but that True urged her forward, accompanying her. 
The inner room was nothing more nor less than a prison. It had been recently partitioned off the principal apartment, and contained no window, no outer door, nothing but bare floor, bare walls, a rude bedstead, a chair and table, with primitive toilet appurtenances. 
Winnie looked about this chamber as a bird might survey its cage. There was no outlet from it save through the outer room—no hope save in the mercy of these jailers. 
A single wild appealing glance at the pair was enough to convince her that hope in that quar-ter was worse than vain. Elder True had a pair of worthy and faithful allies in the herder and his wife. It was plain that no appeal would move them—that they would be insensible to all considerations of justice and mercy. 
The poor girl's heart sunk in her bosom like lead. She entered the room silently, and seated herself upon the rude wooden chair. 
"That's right," said Elder True. "You may as well submit to the inevitable. You are to stay here, Winnie, until you promise to marry me. If anyone should get upon yer track to help you, Gotekin has orders to transfer you to a grotto where you'll be lit'rally buried alive You understand ? I am going now to settle yer pa's hash. His fate, as well as yer own, hangs on you. If you remain obstinit, his death will be at yer door. Likewise yer ma's. I'm patient—as patient as an Injun. I can wait till you come to terms—or till you're buried. Only I want you to know that you will never leave this house alive save as my promised wife. And yer fate will be bliss compared to yer father's. That's all—except that at any time you want to send me a message, Gotekin or his wife will bring it to me." 
He went out with his allies, who locked and barred the door securely. 
Winnie was thus left alone in the darkness of her prison, with a deeper darkness settling down upon her tortured soul. 
She heard Elder True at supper in the outer room. She heard occasionally his coarse laugh and hoarse voice, and the coarse laughter of his companions. He lingered an hour or more, but did not approach the barred door, nor did Win-nie summon him. At last, with many injunc-tions in regard to his captive, True took his de-parture and went away from the island. The herder and his wife extinguished their light, and went to bed, soon falling asleep. 
And Winnie—poor, captive, desolate Winnie—sat motionless in her prison, alone in the dark-ness—alone in her anguish and despair. 
[TO BE CONTINUED.]