pale and evidently much excited. "Come brother, in the name of God
shake off this slumber, and come with me before it is too late!"
"Why Shiblon, what's amiss?"
"Alas, I fear thou art amiss; and your bad deeds are like to bring
trouble to us all. Your association with harlots in this place is the
talk of the whole city, and everywhere we are threatened with
violence--we can no longer preach to the people since they judge us
all by your conduct, and condemn us all as hypocrites and bid us be
gone. The other brethren have started to leave the city, but I came in
search of you; now brother, come--in God's name come! Come, let us
leave together; by a penitent life you may yet cancel this great
sin--you are young--not yet hardened in vice; I pray you, come!"
Corianton stood before his brother bewildered; to him his speech was
incoherent--wild. "Shiblon," said he, "I have not associated with
harlots, and though the revels of last night were indiscreet, I am
free from such sin as you impute to me."
"God grant that you are, and far be it from me to believe that you add
the sin of falsehood to a grosser sin; but brother, the house of
Seantum where you have lodged, is the worst den of infamy in all
Antionum, and only last night you were seen in loving converse on the
shores of this very lake with the harlot Isabel."
"Isabel!" echoed Corianton, "I know and have seen no such woman. I
walked through the grounds here last evening with Joan, niece of
Seantum, and though of sprightly disposition yet modest, and I believe
as virtuous as she is fair."
"Oh, Corianton, in this you are cozened. That woman is not Joan, nor
is she Seantum's niece; but a wicked harlot from Siron whose body to
the chief men of this city has been as common as their wills have
desired it; you have fallen into the trap laid by the Zoramites to
destroy the mission in this city. Seantum is one of the leaders of the
Zoramites, he it was who sent for this cunning harlot to work your
ruin, and in that hoped for the destruction of our mission; and he has
succeeded, alas! too well. They have deceived you; and as the devil
appears as an angel of light, so this woman assumes a virtue that she
possesses not, and by that seeming grace wins you to your destruction.
But break this chain, and let us flee."
Before Corianton could reply there was heard a hurrying of feet and
they were surrounded by a body of men.
"Take that man," said Seantum, pointing to Shiblon, "and bind him."
The young man saw at a glance that neither flight nor resistance would
avail anything, and he submitted without an effort at either.
"Corianton," said Seantum, "I overheard the ungracious words of your
brother against my house and my kinswoman, and I insist upon a
vindication of both before the magistrates of this city; hence I have
taken him, but I mean him no further mischief; and does not justice to
my great reputation and to my household dictate the taking of this
course?"
"Though the sentence fall upon my brother, I must say your cause is
just; let him answer it before your judges, and let this experience
teach him discretion."
"Corianton," said Shiblon, "I complain not at my captivity, incurred
by an anxiety for your good; nor shall I shrink before the judges
however unjust or merciless they may be. But take my advice, if you
are still free from the sin that reputation sticks on you, lose no
time in leaving this man's accursed house; trust not his friendship,
for it is poison; believe not in the pretensions of the harlot Isabel,
Joan she is not, she is one whose feet go down to death, whose steps
take hold on hell!"
"Away with him, and stop his slanderous mouth!" cried Corianton, white
with rage. One of those who held him, struck Shiblon a blow in the
face.
"Noble Seantum," continued Corianton, "see that yourself and your fair
niece be cleared of those slanders, and tell her that there is one
Nephite at least who can rise above the prejudices of a narrow faith
and not impute lewdness to mirthfulness, nor wantonness to innocent
gaiety."
"Be assured, sir," replied the one addressed, "I shall not fail to
report you truly to the fair Joan; and you shall not suffer in her
estimation by reason of your brother's slander."
"Brother, you are now blinded by your infatuation and anger," said
Shiblon, whose spirit neither blows nor prospective harsher treatment
could daunt, "but the time will come, when the scales will fall, and
you will see the black wickedness of those who have entrapped your
unwary feet; farewell, and whatever fate overtakes me, remember I
suffer it out of love of you."
He was then dragged away in the direction of the house, followed by
Seantum.
CHAPTER TEN.
TAUNTS OF THE CROWD.
Left alone to battle with the contending emotions that struggled in
his breast, and his anger having subsided, Corianton began to be
plagued with rising apprehensions. What if Shiblon were right? What if
he had been duped by the crafty Zoramites? Many things that passed
under his observation in the banqueting saloon the night before now
arose to give support to his increasing fears. "Yet, I'll not believe
it, until proven true, then if she be indeed a harlot, and hath
betrayed me into this compromising position, may God pity her, for she
hath need of pity!"
With these words he left the garden and started in the direction of
the market place of the city.
He observed as he walked along that many people looked curiously at
him, and turned to follow him with their gaze. As he turned into one
of the principal streets he heard a tumult, and saw an excited crowd
of people rapidly gathering about two men who were evidently making
efforts to extricate themselves from the throng. They were coming in
his direction, and stepping aside into a narrow alleyway, he thought
to let the throng pass without being observed. As the crowd drew near,
to his astonishment, he saw the two men were his father and Ammon. The
mob at their heels, however, was evidently, as yet, good natured, and
were merely mocking them. Some who occasionally ran in front of them
would shout at the spectators gathered at the sides of the streets--
"Behold the Nephite prophet, who comes to teach us 'holiness' while
his son makes merry the night with harlots!"
"Teach your own son virtue before you leave your cities to convert the
Zoramites," cried another.
"The son's no worse than the father I'll warrant," shouted a third.
"Nor so bad either," broke in several.
"Say old greybeard," said a voice from the crowd, "which of you holy
men is contracted to Isabel to-night?" and the insinuation was
followed by shouts of laughter.
So the crowd passed on, yelling, cursing, mocking, deriding, pushing;
the spirit of violence constantly increasing. The two prophets
answered nothing, but bore all meekly; the only sign of emotion being
the tears that silently flowed down the furrowed cheeks of Alma at the
taunts thrown at him respecting his son; indeed he seemed weighed down
with grief, and would have been trampled under foot but for the
support of his strong companion, who bore him up, and kept back those
who would have used violence had they dared.
The crowd passed and their shouts rose faintly above the busy hum of
life in the city, and then at last died away altogether.
Corianton had remained in the alley way from which he had seen and
heard what is described above; there he stood trembling from head to
foot in an agony of shame and terror. At last he walked away, and
rather from instinct than design he retraced his footsteps in the
direction of Seantum's.
CHAPTER ELEVEN.
FACE TO FACE.
As he walked along Corianton increased his speed; passion rocked his
frame, and a deep design for revenge filled his heart. He passed down
the path with rapid strides and entered the hall of Seantum's
dwelling. Here he met a maid who had attended on Joan--Isabel,--and in
whose company he had left her the night before.
"Where is your mistress, maid?" he demanded in no gentle tones.
"She is yet in her room, sir prophet," said the maid, trembling with
fear.
"And where is that room?"
"The first door to the left opens to a passage leading to it; shall I
say to my mistress you would see her?"
"No," he replied in tones husky with anger. "I will see her
unannounced. Small need to stand on ceremony with such as she."
And with a few rapid strides he reached the door indicated, and
entered the passage leading to the splendid rooms set apart for the
use of Isabel.
He threw aside the heavy curtain drawn across the passage and stood in
the presence of the woman bent on his destruction. She was seated on a
low ottoman with a silver mirror in her hand and a slave was just
putting the finishing touches to her toilet. She hastily arose as
Corianton entered, and intense anger flashed in her dark eyes.
"Methinks this entrance is somewhat rude, bold Nephite. At least I
should have thought a 'prophet' would have had respect for a maiden's
privacy."
"Aye, no doubt he would. All men would respect a maiden's privacy; the
most licentious wretch would tremble did he invade its hallowed
precinct. But who respects the privacy of a commoner? Who pauses on
the threshold of a strumpet?"
"Commoner? Strumpet?" echoed Isabel, choking with rage, "what mean
you?"
"Mean? mean?" he cried, "I mean that the mask behind which you would
hide as Joan is snatched away. I mean that you are a base harlot; that
that fair face is besmirked with loathsome filth, that the sweet tones
of your voice, the arch smile, that angel form, are but the
blandishments of hell to decoy men to ruin. I mean that you with your
paramours conspired to work my undoing; and I, fool-like, must walk in
midday light into your traps."
He had approached her at this climax of his passion and seized her by
the throat! With a shriek she sank upon her knees before him in
terror. Finding her helpless in his grasp, he recovered his
self-control sufficiently to loose his hold.
"No, no, I will not kill you--I meant not to harm you--pardon me. O,
my God! why, oh why, is this woman so foul and yet so fair that heated
rage is cooled, madness subdued to gentleness, and man's purposed
revenge weeps itself to softness in woman's tears?" Covering his face
with his hands he sank into a settee overpowered by the emotions which
shook his frame.
By this time Isabel had recovered from the terror into which
Corianton's sudden rage had thrown her; and deeply read in man's moods
and passions, she saw what an influence she held over the one now
before her. Stealing softly to his side, and placing her hand on his
shoulder she gently said:
"Corianton, have you done well in thus proceeding? What have I done to
merit such harsh treatment--such bitter words--how deserved it?"
"What have you done?" he cried--"you came to me with a lie on your
lips, deceit in your heart, and under the guise of innocence, purity
and goodness sought to encompass my ruin!--Well madame, your plans
have carried--I am undone--ruined! I can never return to my people, to
them I am infamous--an outcast!" And again his form was convulsed in
an agony of grief.
"But may there not be some extenuating circumstances to free me from
the harsh judgment you passed upon me? Trained from my childhood to
hate your people, and taught that all means were proper that would
lead to their destruction, the helpless instrument of unscrupulous men
bent on defeating your mission to the Zoramites--is it any wonder that
I undertook the part assigned me in the scheme? But Corianton," and
she sank on her knees at his feet, "the moment I saw you--so noble in
bearing--so young--my heart relented; I shrank from the performance
of the wicked plot--but what was I to do? Had I told you the truth--
that I was Isabel--the infamy of that name would have steeled your
heart against me--you would have driven me from you as an unclean
thing; and your presence--the nobility which looked from your eyes,
inspired me with love such as I have never known before--I experienced
a longing for something better than I had known--a desire for purity,
goodness, virtue, that I might be worthy of you; and even wicked and
unclean as I am, hope whispered high promises to my woman's
heart--'love will forgive and forget the past; it lives only in the
present and for the future,' it said; but alas! it was a vain hope--I
awake and find it dust! Oh, why is there so much difference between
man and woman! No matter what the past of a man may have been, he hath
but to repent, and all is forgiven--and, forgotten. But when a woman
falls, 'tis never more to rise or be forgiven."
These indirect appeals to him touched the gentler nature of Corianton,
and bending over her as he took her hand, he said: "Nay, do not weep;
if I have fallen I alone am to blame, I should have had better
discretion. I am no coward to lay the blame upon another. I alone am
to blame and I will alone bear the burden of God's displeasure."
"Corianton," cried Isabel as a sudden idea seized her, "if you are an
outcast; come to me, go with me to Siron; we are both young, we may
live for each other, and life may yield us much of happiness--I will
be true to you, work for you, nay, my proud spirit is conquered by my
love, I will even be your slave; let us unite our shattered fortunes:
all may yet be well."
Oh youth, how elastic is thy texture! Oppressed with the heaviest
grief, bowed down into the dust by ruin, thy buoyancy will up-raise
the soul--hope dwells perennially in thy breast! The proposition of
Isabel revived the sinking spirits of Corianton, and under the
influence of her hopeful words his life yet seemed to promise
something worth living for.
"If you have become an outcast from your people," she continued, "and
that through me, I will become an outcast from those who knew me here,
I will forsake my friends for you; and then, hand in hand, we will
seek our new and better fortune. But men are changeful in their love,"
she added, "and when time or care steals beauty from our checks, your
eyes will wander--swear to be true to me, Corianton."
Her arms stole gently about his neck and she looked pleadingly into
his eyes. All his love for this woman now seemed to go out to her, and
warmly returning her tender embrace he said:
"Do not fear the vanishing of my love, Isabel, for I do love thee with
my whole heart, better than my country, my people or my God--the last
I am estranged from, and henceforth thou shalt be my idol," and he
lovingly kissed her lips.
That night they left for Siron, and reached their destination.
The following day when it became known that Corianton had gone to
Siron with Isabel, the excitement in Antionum greatly increased.
Shiblon the day before had been released from his bondage and was
stoned by the people in the streets, led on by some of the servants of
Seantum. He escaped them, however, and joined his father and brethren,
and told them of the blind infatuation of Corianton.
It was decided that it would be useless to attempt to preach longer to
the people of Antionum, and that evening the brethren of the mission
departed for the land of Jershon, their spirits bowed down with grief
at the hardness of the hearts of the Zoramites; but sorrowing most of
all for the wickedness of Corianton and the disgrace he had brought
upon the work.
Zoram and his associates, chief among whom was Seantum, were not
satisfied with the departure of the Nephite prophets; but formed the
resolution of driving from their midst those who had believed in their
words. Hence they sent among the people secretly to find out those who
believed in the words which Alma and his companions had taught; and
learned the sentiments of those who disbelieved their teachings. The
reports justified them in concluding they could drive the former out
of their land with impunity. The effort was successful; and the
outcasts fled to Jershon where the people of Ammon received them with
gladness, and provided for their immediate wants.
CHAPTER TWELVE.
THE LOVE OF A WANTON.
The home of Isabel, in Siron, was nearly as magnificent as that of
Seantum in Antionum. All that wealth could do to satisfy the caprice
and extravagant tastes of woman, had evidently been lavished upon
Isabel by her lovers. For two days after the arrival from Antionum she
had been all that could be desired by Corianton--loving, gentle, and
at times sprightly. But the morning of the third day when he suggested
leaving her establishment, whose luxury constantly reminded him of her
former life and shame, she manifested some petulance, and replied--
"You knew who and what I was before you came here, I take it unkindly
that you upbraid me for the past."
The fact was that during the night Zoram had arrived from Antionum and
was filled with jealous rage. He feared the young and handsome Nephite
had won the fancy of his mistress, and demanded that he should be
gotten rid of.
About midday Corianton entered the apartments of Isabel and urged
again that she would consent to leave Siron and go to a land where she
was not known and there begin their new life.
"There is the door," she said coolly, "if you like not to stay, you
may go."
"Nay, Isabel, but you promised that you would forsake all this for
me!"
"And are you so simple as to believe a woman's words? I was blinded by
my infatuation and half repentance, but the dream is past, I am myself
again, and see we are not suited to each other; you had better return
to your people, sir prophet, fall down at their feet, and seek their
forgiveness."
He stood amazed--twice deceived and by this woman--twice damned in
shame for a thing scarce worth his pity!
"And is this the return for my great love for you?" he asked.
"That for your love," and she threw a goblet of wine in his face. "I
despise both you and your love."
Several of the servants and Zoram entering the apartment at that
moment, she threw herself into the arms of the latter, saying as she
kissed him, "this is my love--my prince--my king of men! Now go!" she
cried, pointing to the door.
"Not I," replied Corianton; "I will not budge until I have laid him
dead at my feet who set on foot the plan that brought my shame!" And
he sprang at Zoram with the fury of an enraged tiger. Before he could
reach him, however, he was overpowered by the servants and bound
securely. Zoram had drawn his dagger, and would have killed the
Nephite, but Isabel clung to him.
"No, no, you shall not slay him, he is my prey, and 'tis for me to say
what shall be his fate. Nephite," she said, "our friend Korihor went
into your chief city where, through sorcery, he was smitten dumb and
fled from your land. He returned to us half crazed, and miserably
perished. That, your people said, was a judgment of God,--a
manifestation of his almighty power. Now live, return to your people
to be the scorn and shame of the times, and let them know that your
fall is a manifestation of Isabel's power--let it be Corianton for
Korihor--Isabel against your God!"
* * *
"See that a number of servants go with him as guards and take him to
the borders of the land Jershon," said Zoram. "Come, move, slaves,
away with him, and be not over-tender of him in your journey!"
Two men were soon mounted, and Corianton, his hands bound behind him,
was compelled to run between them, each of his guards holding him by a
thong fastened about his body. All that day and night, and part of the
next day they continued their journey, with occasional rests for
themselves and their horses. Reaching the borders of the land of
Jershon before noon of the second day, they cruelly beat their
prisoner and left him, directing their course for Siron.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN.
A BROTHER'S LOVE.
Left more dead than alive by his hard journey and merciless beating,
Corianton lay in a stupor for some time. Regaining consciousness he
wandered, he knew not whither, but at last came to one of the chief
towns of the people of Ammon; where a large number of the outcast
Zoramites had been given a resting place. In passing through the
streets he was recognized by some of them, and the news of his return
soon spread throughout the city.
The people came running together to see him. Some looked on him with
pity, others looked upon him as the author of all their distress and
began clamoring for vengeance. The latter class was by far the more
numerous, and the excitement was growing uncontrolable. "Stone him,
stone him!" was the cry. Corianton, hard pressed, threw back his
tattered robe, and addressing the crowd said--
"Yes, good people, I am the cause of the affliction that has befallen
you--let my life pay the penalty of my follies--I refuse not to
die--to die would be relief."
Those who heard these words, and saw the majesty of the speaker,
fallen though he was, were awed into silence; but those on the
outskirts of the ever-increasing crowd still clamored for his life,
and even began to cast stones at him. These volleys soon caused those
near him to draw back, and he stood alone. Shrouding his face in his
mantle he sank to the ground prepared to meet the worst.
At that moment a clear, strong voice rose above the tumult of the mob:
"In the name of God, hold! Stay your hands, men! Let him be accursed
that casts another stone!"
Shiblon, all breathless, pushed his way through that angry crowd to
where his brother lay, half stunned and bleeding. He threw aside the
mantle and bent over the poor, bruised form. "Alas! my brother, cast
down and well nigh destroyed!" and the tears flowed down his cheeks
and dropped upon the half unconscious face of Corianton. Then the
murmurs of the crowd, awed but for the moment by Shiblon's appearance,
rose into cries for vengeance. Quickly rising to his feet, Shiblon
waved his hand for silence and thus addressed them:
"You people from Antionum, listen to me. My father and the sons of
Mosiah, together with this my brother and myself, came into your midst
to teach you the truth. Out of love for you my father, though bowed
with age and unremitting toil in the behalf of others, left the
pleasures and comforts of his home, risked his life, and endured the
scoffs of the proud Zoramites, that you might live, and live in the
truth, and be free, and for this you would reward him by slaying his
dearest son, who fell by the practice of a cunning harlot. I grant you
the sin was great; such as he are great, even in their sins; and they
are likewise great in their sufferings.
"If his crime is worthy of death, has he not already suffered more
than death? The burden of his great sin he must carry through
life--and could his worst enemy be gratified by casting one more stone
at this poor, bleeding body, or be pleased by adding one more pang to
his tortured mind? Oh, men! has pity, mercy, gratitude left your
breasts; and does your mad frenzy make you brutish beasts? My
brother's sin is more against himself and God than you, and it is for
you to leave him to the justice and mercy of his God who hath said,
'Vengeance is mine, I will repay."
The crowd slunk away, except those who remained to assist Shiblon in
removing his brother to the home of Ammon, who lived in the city. Here
his wounds were dressed; and he was attended upon by Shiblon with all
the devotion of a loving brother.
His father forgave him, and took no small pains in teaching him,
instilling into his soul faith in the great fundamental truths of the
Gospel. And Corianton's proud, haughty spirit now humbled to the dust,
listened with prayerful attention to the instruction of his father,
and found the faith of the Gospel the stay and hope of his soul, and
no longer questioned, but lovingly trusted in the justice and mercy of
God.
May it not be that even this great sin was necessary to humble his
pride, and prepare him to receive and sense the gospel, that by and
through it he might be prepared to receive the highest degree of glory
to which his nature could attain, and which he never could have
attained with his pride unbroken?
"I give unto men weakness," saith the Lord, "that they may be humble;
and my grace is sufficient for all men that humble themselves before
me."