to answer me."

"What is it?" the Mormon asked uneasily. "Be quick.
The very rocks have ears and the trees eyes."

"What has become of Lucy Ferrier?"

"She was married yesterday to young Drebber. Hold up, man,
hold up, you have no life left in you."

"Don't mind me," said Hope faintly. He was white to the very
lips, and had sunk down on the stone against which he had
been leaning. "Married, you say?"

"Married yesterday -- that's what those flags are for on the
Endowment House. There was some words between young Drebber
and young Stangerson as to which was to have her. They'd
both been in the party that followed them, and Stangerson had
shot her father, which seemed to give him the best claim; but
when they argued it out in council, Drebber's party was the
stronger, so the Prophet gave her over to him. No one won't
have her very long though, for I saw death in her face yesterday.
She is more like a ghost than a woman. Are you off, then?"

"Yes, I am off," said Jefferson Hope, who had risen from his
seat. His face might have been chiselled out of marble,
so hard and set was its expression, while its eyes glowed with
a baleful light.

"Where are you going?"