She stood, framed in the light of the doorway, leaning out to look after him until he was lost in the darkness.
As she stepped back and closed the door, a man, who had halted by a tree in front of the next house when the door first opened, walked on again.
It had been a great day, but, for one cause or another, it came near to being one of the last days of the man who had made it great.
Late the next afternoon, Joel Rae was found in his cabin by a messenger from Brigham.

He had presumably lain there unattended since the night before, and now he was delirious and sick unto death; raving of the sins of the Saints, and of his great work of reformation.

So tenderly sympathetic was his mind, said those who came to care for him, that in his delirium he ranked himself among the lowest of sinners in Zion, imploring them to take him out and bury him in the waters of baptism so that he might again be worthy to preach them the Word of God.
He was at once given every care, and for six weeks was not left alone night or day; the good mothers in Israel vying with each other in kindly offices for the sick Elder, and the men praying daily that he might not be taken so soon after his great work had begun.
The fifth wife of Elder Pixley came once to sit by his bedside, but when she heard him rave of some great sin that lay black upon his soul, beseeching forgiveness for it while the tears rained down his fevered face, she had professed that his suffering sickened her so she could not stay.

Thereafter she had contented herself with inquiring at his door each day--until the day when they told her that the sickness was broken; that he was again rational and doubtless would soon be well.

After that she went no more; which was not unnatural, for Elder Pixley was about to return from his three years' mission abroad, and there was much to do in the community-house in preparation for the master's coming.
But the long sickness of the young Elder did not in any manner stay the great movement he had inaugurated.