THE SEVEN WIVES
Hardly had the words fallen from the lips of Obadiah Price than the old
man straightened himself and stood as rigid as a gargoyle, his gaze
penetrating into the darkness of the room beyond Captain Plum, his head
inclined slightly, every nerve in him strained to a tension of
expectancy. His companion involuntarily gripped the butt of his pistol
and faced the narrow entrance through which they had come. In the moment
of absolute silence that followed there came to him, faintly, a sound,
unintelligible at first, but growing in volume until he knew that it was
the last echo of a tolling bell. There was no movement, no sound of
breath or whisper from the old man at his back. But when it came again,
floating to him as if from a vast distance, he turned quickly to find
Obadiah Price with his face lifted, his thin arms flung wide above his
head and his lips moving as if in prayer. His eyes burned with a dull
glow as though he had been suddenly thrown into a trance. He seemed not
to breathe, no vibration of life stirred him except in the movement of
his lips. With the third toll of the distant bell he spoke, and to
Captain Plum it was as if the passion and fire in his voice came from
another being.
"Our Christ, Master of hosts, we call upon Thy chosen people the three
blessings of the universe--peace, prosperity and plenty, and upon
Strang, priest, king and prophet, the bounty of Thy power!"
Three times more the distant bell tolled forth its mysterious message
and when the last echoes had died away the old man's arms dropped beside
him and he turned again to Captain Plum.
"Franklin Pierce, President of the United States of America," he
repeated, as though there had been no interruption since his companion's
question. "The package is to be delivered to him. Now you must excuse
me. An important matter calls me out for a short time. But I will be
back soon--oh, yes, very soon. And you will wait for me. You will wait
for me here, and then I will take you to St. James."
He was gone in a quick hopping way, like a cricket, and the last that
Captain Plum saw of him was his ghostly face turned back for an instant
in the darkness of the next room, and after that the soft patter of his
feet and the strange chuckle in his throat traveled to the outer door
and died away as he passed out into the night. Nathaniel Plum was not a
man to be easily startled, but there was something so unusual about the
proceedings in which he was as yet playing a blind part that he forgot
to smoke, which was saying much. Who was the old man? Was he mad? His
eyes scanned the little room and an exclamation of astonishment fell
from his lips when he saw the leather bag, partly filled with gold,
lying where his mysterious acquaintance had dropped it. Surely this was
madness or else another ruse to test his honesty. The discovery thrilled
him. It was wonderfully quiet out in that next room and very dark. Were
hidden eyes guarding that bag? Well, if so, he would give their owner to
understand that he was not a thief. He rose from his chair and moved
toward the bag, lifted it in his hand, and tossed it back again so that
the gold in it chinked loudly. Then he went to the narrow aperture and
blocked it with his body and listened until he knew that if there had
been human life in the room he would have heard it.
The outer door was open and through it there came to him the soft breath
of the night air and the sweetness of balsam and wild flowers. It struck
him that it would be pleasanter waiting outside than in, and it would
undoubtedly make no difference to Obadiah Price. In front of the cabin
he found the stump of a log and seating himself on it where the clear
light of the stars fell full upon him he once more began his
interrupted smoke. It seemed to him that he had waited a long time when
he heard the sound of footsteps. They came rapidly as if the person was
half running. Hardly had he located the direction of the sound when a
figure appeared in the opening and hurried toward the door of the cabin.
A dozen yards from him it paused for a moment and turned partly about,
as if inspecting the path over which it had come. With a greeting
whistle Captain Plum jumped to his feet. He heard a little throat note,
which was not the chuckling of Obadiah Price, and the figure ran almost
into his arms. A sudden knowledge of having made a mistake drew Captain
Plum a pace backward. For scarcely more than five seconds he found
himself staring into the white terrified face of a girl. Eyes wide and
glowing with sudden fright met his own. Instinctively he lifted his hand
to his hat, but before he could speak the girl sprang back with a low
cry and ran swiftly down the path that led into the gloom of the woods.
For several minutes Captain Plum stood as if the sudden apparition had
petrified him. He listened long after the sound of retreating footsteps
had died away. There remained behind a faint sweet odor of lilac which
stirred his soul and set his blood tingling. It was a beautiful face
that he had seen. He was sure of that and yet he could have given no
good verbal proof of it. Only the eyes and the odor of lilac remained
with him and after a little the lilac drifted away. Then he went back to
the log and sat down. He smiled as he thought of the joke that he had
unwittingly played on Obadiah. From his knowledge of the Beaver Island
Mormons he was satisfied that the old man who displayed gold in such
reckless profusion was anything but a bachelor. In all probability this
was one of his wives and the cabin behind him, he concluded, was for
some reason isolated from the harem. "Evidently that little Saintess is
not a flirt," he concluded, "or she would have given me time to speak to
her."
The continued absence of Obadiah Price began to fill Captain Plum with
impatience. After an hour's wait he reentered the cabin and made his way
to the little room, where the candle was still burning dimly. To his
astonishment he beheld the old man sitting beside the table. His thin
face was propped between his hands and his eyes were closed as if he was
asleep. They shot open instantly on Captain Plum's appearance.
"I've been waiting for you, Nat," he cried, straightening himself with
spring-like quickness. "Waiting for you a long time, Nat!" He rubbed his
hands and chuckled at his own familiarity. "I saw you out there enjoying
yourself. What did you think of her, Nat?" He winked with such audacious
glee that, despite his own astonishment, Captain Plum burst into a
laugh. Obadiah Price held up a warning hand. "Tut, tut, not so loud!" he
admonished. His face was a map of wrinkles. His little black eyes shone
with silent laughter. There was no doubt but that he was immensely
pleased over something. "Tell me, Nat--why did you come to St. James?"
He leaned forward over the table, his odd white head almost resting on
it, and twiddled his thumbs with wonderful rapidity. "Eh, Nat?" he
urged. "Why did you come?"
"Because it was too hot and uninteresting lying out there in a calm,
Dad," replied the master of the _Typhoon_. "We've been roasting for
thirty-six hours without a breath to fill our sails. I came over to see
what you people are like. Any harm done?"
"Not a bit, not a bit--yet," chuckled the old man. "And what's your
business, Nat?"
"Sailing--mostly."
"Ho, ho, ho! of course, I might have known it! Sailing--_mostly_. Why,
certainly you sail! And why do you carry a pistol on one side of you and
a knife on the other, Nat?"
"Troublous times, Dad. Some of the fisher-folk along the Northern End
aren't very scrupulous. They took a cargo of canned stuffs from me a
year back."
"And what use do you make of the four-pounder that's wrapped up in
tarpaulin under your deck, Nat? And what in the world are you going to
do with five barrels of gunpowder?"
"How in blazes--" began Captain Plum.
"O, to be sure, to be sure--they're for the fisher-folk," interrupted
Obadiah Price. "Blow 'em up, eh, Nat? And you seem to be a young man of
education, Nat. How did you happen to make a mistake in your count?
Haven't you twelve men aboard your sloop instead of eight, Nat? Aren't
there twelve, instead of eight? Eh, Nat?"
"The devil take you!" cried Captain Plum, leaping suddenly to his feet,
his face flaming red. "Yes, I have got twelve men and I've got a gun in
tarpaulin and I've got five barrels of gunpowder! But how in the name of
Kingdom-Come did you find it out?"
Obadiah Price came around the end of the table and stood so close to
Captain Plum that a person ten feet away could not have heard him when
he spoke.
"I know more than that, Nat," he whispered. "Listen! A little while
ago--say two weeks back--you were becalmed off the head of Beaver
Island, and one dark night you were boarded by two boat-loads of men who
made you and your crew prisoners, robbed you of everything you had,--and
the next day you went back to Chicago. Eh?"
Nathaniel stood speechless.
"And you made up your mind the pirates were Mormons, enlisted some of
your friends, armed your ship--and you're back here to make us settle.
Isn't it so, Nat?"
The little old man was rubbing his hands eagerly, excitedly.
"You tried to get the revenue cutter _Michigan_ to come down with you,
but they wouldn't--ho, ho, they wouldn't! One of our friends in Chicago
sent quick word ahead of you to tell me all about it, and--Strang, the
king, doesn't know!"
He spoke the last words in intense earnestness.
Then, suddenly, he held out his hand.
"Young man, will you shake hands with me? Will you shake hands?--and
then we will go to St. James!"
Captain Plum thrust out a hand and the old man gripped it. The thin
fingers tightened like cold clamps of steel. For a moment the face of
Obadiah Price underwent a strange change. The hardness and glitter went
out of his eyes and in place there came a questioning, almost an
appealing, look. His tense mouth relaxed. It was as if he was on the
point of surrendering to some emotion which he was struggling to stifle.
And Nathaniel, meeting those eyes, felt that somewhere within him had
been struck a strange chord of sympathy, something that made this little
old man more than a half-mad stranger to him, and involuntarily the
grip of his fingers tightened around those of his companion.
"Now we will go to St. James, Captain Plum!"
He attempted to withdraw his hand but Captain Plum held to it.
"Not yet!" he exclaimed. "There are two or three things which your
friend didn't tell you, Obadiah Price!"
Nathaniel's eyes glittered dangerously.
"When I left ship this morning I gave explicit orders to Casey, my
mate."
He gazed steadily into the old man's unflinching eyes.
"I said something like this: 'Casey, I'm going to see Strang before I
come back. If he's willing to settle for five thousand, we'll call it
off. And if he isn't--why, we'll stand out there a mile and blow St.
James into hell! And if I don't come back by to-morrow at sundown,
Casey, you take command and blow it to hell without me!' So, Obadiah
Price, if there's treachery--"
The old man clutched at his hands with insane fierceness.
"There will be no treachery, Nat, I swear to God there will be no
treachery! Come, we will go--"
Still Captain Plum hesitated.
"Who are you? Whom am I to follow?"
"A member of our holy Council of Twelve, Nat, and lord high treasurer of
His Majesty, King Strang!"
Before Captain Plum could recover from the surprise of this whispered
announcement the little old man had freed himself and was pattering
swiftly through the darkness of the next room. The master of the
_Typhoon_ followed close behind him. Outside the councilor hesitated for
a moment, as if debating which route to take, and then with a prodigious
wink at Captain Plum and a throatful of his inimitable chuckles, chose
the path down which his startled visitor of a short time before had
fled. For fifteen minutes this path led between thick black walls of
forest verdure. Obadiah Price kept always a few paces ahead of his
companion and spoke not a word. At the end of perhaps half a mile the
path entered into a large clearing on the farther side of which
Nathaniel caught the glimmer of a light. They passed close to this
light, which came from the window of a large square house built of logs,
and Captain Plum became suddenly conscious that the air was filled with
the redolent perfume of lilac. With half a dozen quick strides he
overtook the councilor and caught him by the arm.
"I smell lilac!" he exclaimed.
"Certainly, so do I," replied Obadiah Price. "We have very fine lilacs
on the island."
"And I smelled lilac back there," continued Nathaniel, still holding to
the old man's arm, and pointing a thumb over his shoulder. "I smelled
'em back there, when--"
"Ho, ho, ho!" chuckled the councilor softly. "I don't doubt it, Nat, I
don't doubt it. She is very fond of lilacs. She wears the flowers very
often."
He pulled himself away and Captain Plum could hear his queer chuckling
for some time after. Soon they entered the gloom of the woods again and
a little later came out into another clearing and Nathaniel knew that it
was St. James that lay at his feet. The lights of a few fishing boats
were twinkling in the harbor, but for the most part the town was dark.
Here and there a window shone like a spot of phosphorescent yellow in
the dismal gloom and the great beacon still burned steadily over the
home of the prophet.
"Ah, it is not time," whispered Obadiah. "It is still too early." He
drew his companion out of the path which they had followed and sat
himself down on a hummock a dozen yards away from it, inviting Nathaniel
by a pull of the sleeve to do the same. There were three of these
hummocks, side by side, and Captain Plum chose the one nearest the old
man and waited for him to speak. But the councilor did not open his
lips. Doubled over until his chin rested almost upon the sharp points of
his knees, he gazed steadily at the beacon, and as he looked it
shuddered and grew dark, like a firefly that suddenly closes its wings.
With a quick spring the councilor straightened himself and turned to the
master of the _Typhoon_.
"You have a good nose, Nat," he said, "but your ears are not so good.
Sh-h-h-h!" He lifted a hand warningly and nodded sidewise toward the
path. Captain Plum listened. He heard low voices and then
footsteps--voices that were approaching rapidly, and were those of
women, and footsteps that were almost running. The old man caught him by
the arm and as the sounds came nearer his grip tightened.
"Don't frighten them, Nat. Get down!"
He crouched until he was only a part of the shadows of the ground and
following his example Nathaniel slipped between two of the knolls. A
few yards away the sound of the voices ceased and there was a hesitancy
in the soft tread of the approaching steps. Slowly, and now in awesome
silence, two figures came down the path and when they reached a point
opposite the hummocks Nathaniel could see that they turned their faces
toward them and that for a brief space there was something of terror in
the gleam he caught of their eyes. In a moment they had passed. Then he
heard them running.
"They saw us!" Captain Plum exclaimed.
Obadiah hopped to his feet and rubbed his hands with great glee. "What a
temptation, Nat!" he whispered. "What a temptation to frighten them out
of their wits! No, they didn't see us, Nat--they didn't see us. The
girls are always frightened when they pass these graves. Some day--"
"Graves!" almost shouted the master of the _Typhoon_. "Graves--and we
sitting on 'em!"
"That's all right, Nat--that's all right. They're my graves, so we're
welcome to sit on them. I often come here and sit for hours at a time.
They like to have me, especially little Jean--the middle one. Perhaps
I'll tell you about Jean before you go away."
If Captain Plum had been watching him he would have seen that soft
mysterious light again shining in the old councilor's eyes. But now
Nathaniel stood erect, his nostrils sniffing the air, catching once more
the sweet scent of lilac. He hurried out into the opening, with the old
man close behind him, and peered down into the starlit gloom into which
the two girls had disappeared. The lovely face that had appeared to him
for an instant at Obadiah's cabin began to haunt him. He was sure now
that his sudden appearance had not been the only cause of its terror,
and he felt that he should have called out to her or followed until he
had overtaken her. He could easily have excused his boldness, even if
the councilor had been watching him from the cabin door. He was certain
that she had passed very near to him again and that the fright which
Obadiah had attempted to explain was not because of the graves. He swung
about upon his companion, determined to ask for an explanation. The
latter seemed to divine his thought.
"Don't let a little scent of lilac disturb you so, young man," he said
with singular coldness. "It may cause you great unpleasantness." He went
ahead and Nathaniel followed him, assured that the old man's words and
the way in which he had spoken them no longer left a doubt as to the
identity of his night visitor. She was one of the councilor's wives, so
he thought, and his own interest in her was beginning to have an
irritating effect. In other words Obadiah was becoming jealous.
For some time there was silence between the two. Obadiah Price now
walked with extreme slowness and along paths which seemed to bring him
no nearer to the town below. Nathaniel could see that he was absorbed in
thoughts of his own, and held his peace. Was it possible that he had
spoiled his chances with the councilor because of a pretty face and a
bunch of lilacs? The thought tickled Captain Plum despite the delicacy
of his situation and he broke into an involuntary laugh. The laugh
brought Obadiah to a halt as suddenly as though some one had thrust a
bayonet against his breast.
"Nat, you've got good red blood in you," he cried, whirling about. "D'ye
suppose you can hate as well as love?"
"Lord deliver us!" exclaimed the astonished Captain Plum.
"Hate--love--what the--"
"Yes, _hate_," repeated the old man with fierce emphasis, so close that
his breath struck Nathaniel's face. "You can love a pretty face--and you
can _hate_. I know you can. If you couldn't I would send you back to
your sloop with the package to-night. But as it is I am going to relieve
you of your oath. Yes, Nat, I give you back your oath--for a time."
Nathaniel stepped a pace back and put his hands on his pockets as if to
protect the gold there.
"You mean that you want to call off our bargain?" he asked.
The councilor rubbed his hands until the friction of them sent a shiver
up Nathaniel's back. "Not that, Nat--O, no, not that! The bargain is
good. The gold is yours. You must deliver the package. But you need not
do it immediately. Understand? I am lonely back there in my shack. I
want company. You must stay with me a week. Eh? Lilacs and pretty faces,
Nat! Ho, ho!--You will stay a week, won't you, Nat?"
He spoke so rapidly and his face underwent so many changes, now
betraying the keenest excitement, now wrinkled in an ogreish, bantering
grin, now almost pleading in its earnestness, that Nathaniel knew not
what to make of him. He looked into the beady eyes, sparkling with
passion, and the cat-like glitter of them set his blood tingling. What
strange adventure was this old man dragging him into? What were the
motives, the reasoning, the plot that lay behind this mysterious
creature's apparent faith in him? He tried to answer these things in the
passing of a moment before he replied. The councilor saw his hesitancy
and smiled.
"I will show you many things of interest, Nat," he said. "I will show
you just one to-night. Then you will make up your mind, eh? You need not
tell me until then."
He took the lead again and this time struck straight down for the town.
They passed a number of houses built of logs and Nathaniel caught narrow
gleams of light from between close-drawn curtains. In one of these
houses he heard the crying of children, and with a return of his grisly
humor Obadiah Price prodded him in the ribs and said,
"Good old Israel Laeng lives there--two wives, one old, one
young--eleven children. The Kingdom of Heaven is open to him!" And from
a second he heard the sound of an organ, and from still a third there
came the laughter and chatter of several feminine voices, and again
Obadiah reached out and prodded Nathaniel in the ribs. There was one
great, gloomy, long-built place which they passed, without a ray of
light to give it life, and the councilor said, "Three widows there,
Nat,--fight like cats and dogs. Poor Job killed himself." They avoided
the more thickly populated part of the settlement and encountered few
people, which seemed to please the councilor. Once they overtook and
passed a group of women clad in short skirts and loose waists and with
their hair hanging in braids down their backs. For a third time Obadiah
nudged Captain Plum.
"It is the king's pleasure that all women wear skirts that come just
below the knees," he whispered. "Some of them won't do it and he's
wondering how to punish them. To-morrow there's going to be two public
whippings. One of the victims is a man who said that if he was a woman
he'd die before he put on knee skirts. After he's whipped he is going
to be made to wear 'em. By Urim and Thummin, isn't that choice, Nat?"
He shivered with quiet laughter and dived into a great block of darkness
where there seemed to be no houses, keeping close beside Nathaniel. Soon
they came to the edge of a grove and deep among the trees Captain Plum
caught a glimpse of a lighted window. Obadiah Price now began to exhibit
unusual caution. He approached the light slowly, pausing every few steps
to peer guardedly about him, and when they had come very near to the
window he pulled his companion behind a thick clump of shrubbery.
Nathaniel could hear the old man's subdued chuckle and he bent his head
to catch what he was about to whisper to him.
"You must make no noise, Nat," he warned. "This is the castle of our
priest, king and prophet--James Jesse Strang. I am going to show you
what you have never seen before and what you will never look upon again.
I have sworn upon the Two Books and I will keep my oath. And then--you
will answer the question I asked you back there."
He crept out into the darkness of the trees and Nathaniel followed, his
heart throbbing with excitement, every sense alert, and one hand resting
on the butt of his pistol. He felt that he was nearing the climax of his
day's adventure and now, in the last moment of it, his old caution
reasserted itself. He knew that he was among a dangerous people, men
who, according to the laws of his country, were criminals in more ways
than one. He had seen much of their work along the coasts and he had
heard of more of it. He knew that this gloom and sullen quiet of St.
James hid cut-throats and pirates and thieves. Still there was nothing
ahead to alarm him. The old man dodged the gleams of the lighted window
and slunk around to the end of the great house. Here, several feet above
his head, was another window, small and veiled with the foliage wall.
With the assurance of one who had been there before the councilor
mounted some object under the window, lifted himself until his chin was
on a level with the glass, and peered within. He was there but an
instant and then fell back, chuckling and rubbing his hands.
"Come, Nat!"
He stood a little to one side and bowed with mock politeness. For a
moment Captain Plum hesitated. Under ordinary circumstances this spying
through a window would have been repugnant to him. But at present
something seemed to tell him that it was not to satisfy his curiosity
alone that Obadiah Price had given him this opportunity. Would a look
through that little window explain some of the mysteries of the night?
There came a low whisper in his ear.
"Do you smell lilac, Nat? Eh?"
The councilor was grinning at him. There was a suggestive gleam in his
eyes. He rubbed his hands almost fiercely.
In another instant Captain Plum had stepped upon the object beneath the
window and parted the leaves. Breathlessly he looked in. A strange scene
met his eyes. He was looking into a vast room, illuminated by a huge
hanging lamp suspended almost on a level with his head. Under this lamp
there was a long table and at the table sat seven women and one man. The
man was at the end nearest the window and all that Nat could see was the
back of his head and shoulders. But the women were in full view, three
on each side of the table and one at the far end. He guessed the man to
be Strang; but he stared at the women and as his eyes traveled back to
the one facing him at the end of the table he could scarcely repress the
exclamation of surprise that rose to his lips. It was the girl whom he
had encountered at the councilor's cabin. She was leaning forward as if
in an agony of suspense, her eyes on the king, her lips parted, her
hands clutching at a great book which lay open before her. Her cheeks
were flushed with excitement. And even as he looked Captain Plum saw
her head fall suddenly forward upon the table, encircled by her arms.
The heavy braid of her hair, partly undone, glistened like red gold in
the lamplight. Her slender body was convulsed with sobs. The woman
nearest her reached over and laid a caressing hand on the bowed head,
but drew it quickly away as if at a sharp command.
In his eagerness Nathaniel thrust his face through the foliage until his
nose touched the glass. When the girl lifted her head she straightened
back in her chair--and saw him. There came a sudden white fear in her
face, a parting of the lips as if she were on the point of crying out,
and then, before the others had seen, she looked again at Strang. She
had discovered him and yet she had not revealed her discovery! Nathaniel
could have shouted for joy. She had seen him, had recognized him! And
because she had not cried out she wanted him! He drew his pistol from
its holster and waited. If she signaled for him, if she called him, he
would burst the window. The girl was talking now and as she talked she
lifted her eyes. Nathaniel pressed his face close against the window,
and smiled. That would let her know he was a friend. She seemed to
answer him with a little nod and he fancied that her eyes glowed with a
mute appeal for his assistance. But only for an instant, and then they
turned again to the king. Not until that moment did Nathaniel notice
upon her bosom a bunch of crumpled lilacs.
From below the iron grip of the councilor dragged him down.
"That's enough," he whispered. "That's enough--for to-night." He saw the
pistol in Nathaniel's hand and gave a sudden breathless cry.
"Nat--Nat--"
He caught Captain Plum's free hand in his.
"Tell me this, Obadiah Price," whispered the master of the _Typhoon_,
"who is she?"
The councilor stood on tiptoe to answer.
"They are the six wives of Strang, Nat!"
"But the other?" demanded Nathaniel. "The other--"
"O, to be sure, to be sure," chuckled Obadiah. "The girl of the lilacs,
eh? Why, she's the seventh wife, Nat--that's all, the seventh wife!"