There came a shrill cry at his back and he whirled about to see the councilor standing in the center of the big room, his arms outstretched, his face lifted as it had been raised in prayer at the tolling of that same bell the night before--but this time it was not prayer that fell from his lips.
"Nat, ye have returned in the hour of vengeance! The hand of God is descending upon the Mormon kingdom!" His words came in a gasping, but triumphant cry.
"And to-morrow--to-morrow--" He stepped forward, his voice crooning a wild joy, "To-morrow--I--shall--be--king!" As he spoke the cabin trembled, a tremor passed under them, and the tolling of the bell was lost in a sudden tumult that came like the bursting crash of low thunder.
"What is it ?" cried Nathaniel.

He leaped into the room and caught Obadiah by the arm.

"What is it ?" "The hand of God!" whispered the old man again.

"Nat--Nat--" It was his old self that stood grimacing and twisting his hands before Nathaniel now.

"Nat--a thousand armed men are off the coast! The Lamanites of the mainland are descending upon the Mormon kingdom as the hosts of Israel upon Canaan! Strang is doomed--doomed--doomed--and to-morrow I shall be king!" His voice rose in a wailing shriek.