A Study In Scarlet (Sherlock Holmes) - Part 4

A Study in Scarlet is an 1887 detective novel by British writer Arthur Conan Doyle. The story marks the first appearance of Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson, who would become the most famous detective duo in literature.

Transcript

II.

The Flower of Utah.

This is not the place to commemorate the trials and privations endured by the immigrant Mormons before they came to their final haven.

From the shores of the Mississippi to the western slopes of the Rocky Mountains,

They had struggled on with a constancy almost unparalleled in history.

The savage man and the savage beast,

Hunger,

Thirst,

Fatigue,

And disease,

Every impediment which nature could place in the way,

Had all been overcome with Anglo-Saxon tenacity.

Yet the long journey and the accumulated terrors had shaken the hearts of the stoutest among them.

There was not one who did not sink upon his knees in heartfelt prayer when they saw the broad valley of Utah bathed in the sunlight beneath them,

And learned from the lips of their leader that this was the promised land,

And that these virgin acres were to be theirs for evermore.

Young speedily proved himself to be a skillful administrator,

As well as a resolute chief.

Plans were drawn and charts prepared,

In which the future city was sketched out.

All around farms were apportioned and allotted in proportion to the standing of each individual.

The tradesman was put to his trade,

And the artisan to his calling.

In the town streets and squares sprang up as if by magic.

In the country there was draining and hedging,

Planting and clearing,

Until the next summer saw the whole country golden with the wheat crop.

Everything prospered in the strange settlement.

Above all,

The great temple which they had erected in the center of the city grew even taller and larger.

From the first blush of dawn until the closing of the twilight,

The clatter of the hammer and the rasp of the saw was never absent from the monument which the immigrants erected to him,

Who had led them safe through many dangers.

The two castaways,

John Ferrier and the little girl who had shared his fortunes and had been adopted as his daughter,

Accompanied the Mormons to the end of their great pilgrimage.

Little Lucy Ferrier was borne along pleasantly enough in Elder Stangerson's wagon,

A retreat which she shared with the Mormons' three wives and with his son.

A headstrong forward boy of twelve,

Having rallied with the elasticity of childhood from the shock caused by her mother's death,

She soon became a pet with the women and reconciled herself to this new life in her moving canvas-covered home.

In the meantime,

Ferrier,

Having recovered from his privations,

Distinguished himself as a useful guide and an indefatigable hunter.

So rapidly did he gain the esteem of his new companions,

That when they reached the end of their wanderings,

It was unanimously agreed that he should be provided with as large and as fertile a tract of land as any of the settlers,

With the exception of Young himself,

And of Stangerson,

Campbell,

Johnston,

And Dreber,

Who were the four principal elders.

On the farm thus acquired John Ferrier built himself a substantial log-house,

Which received so many additions in succeeding years that it grew into a roomy villa.

He was a man of a practical turn of mind,

Keen in his dealings and skillful with his hands.

His iron constitution enabled him to work morning and evening at improving and tilling his lands.

Hence it came about that his farm and all that belonged to him prospered exceedingly.

In three years he was better off than his neighbors.

In six he was well to do,

In nine he was rich,

And in twelve there were not half a dozen men in the whole of Salt Lake City who could compare with him.

From the great inland sea to the distant Wasatch mountains there was no name better known than that of John Ferrier.

There was one way,

And only one in which he offended the susceptibilities of his core religionists.

No argument or persuasion could ever induce him to set up a female establishment after the manner of his companions.

He never gave reason for this persistent refusal,

But contended himself by resolutely and inflexibly adhering to his determination.

There were some who accused him of lukewarmness in his adopted religion,

And others who put it down to greed of wealth and reluctance to incur expense.

Others again spoke of some early love affair,

And of a fair-haired girl who had pinned away on the shores of the Atlantic.

Whatever the reason,

Ferrier remained strictly celibate.

In every other respect he conformed to the religion of the young settlement,

And gained the name of being an orthodox and straight walking man.

Lucy Ferrier grew up within the log-house,

And assisted her adopted father in all kinds of undertakings.

The keen air of the mountains and the balsamic odor of the pine-trees took the place of nurse and mother to the young girl.

As year succeeded to year she grew taller and stronger,

Her cheek more rudy,

And her step more elastic.

Many a wayfarer upon the high road which ran by Ferrier's farm felt long-forgotten thoughts revive in their mind,

As they watched her life-girlish figure tripping through the wheat fields,

Or met her mounted upon her father's mustang,

And managing it with all the ease and grace of a true child of the West.

So the bud blossomed into a flower,

And the year which saw her father the richest of the farmers left her as fair a specimen of American girlhood as could be found in the whole Pacific slope.

It was not the father,

However,

Who first discovered that a child had developed into the woman.

It seldom is in such cases.

That mysterious change is too subtle and too gradual to be measured by dates.

Least of all does the maiden herself know it until the tone of a voice or the touch of a hand sets her heart thrilling within her,

And she learns with a mixture of pride and of fear that a new and larger nature has awoken within her.

There are few who cannot recall that day,

And remember the one little accident which heralded the dawn of a new life.

In the case of Luciferior,

The occasion was serious enough in itself,

Apart from its future influence on her destiny and that of many besides.

It was a warm June morning,

And the latter-day saints were as busy as the bees whose hive they have chosen for their emblem.

In the fields and in the streets rose the same hum of human industry.

Down the dusty high roads defiled long streams of heavily laden mules,

All heading to the west,

For the gold fever had broken out in California,

And the overland rout lay through the city of the elect.

There too were droves of sheep and bullocks coming in from the outlying pasture lands,

And trains of tired immigrants,

Man and horses equally wary of their interminable journey.

Through all this motley assemblage,

Threading her way with the skill of an accomplished rider,

There galloped Luciferior,

Her fair face flushed with the exercise and her long chestnut hair floating out behind her.

She had a commission from her father in the city,

And was dashing in as she had done many a time before,

With all the fearlessness of youth,

Thinking only of her task and how it was to be performed.

The travel-stained adventurers gazed after her in astonishment,

And even the unemotional Indians,

Journeying in with their pelties,

Relaxed their accustomed stoicism as they marveled at the beauty of the pale-faced maiden.

She had reached the outskirts of the city,

When she found the road blocked by a great drove of cattle,

Driven by a half-dozen wild-looking herdsmen from the plains.

In her impatience she endeavoured to pass this obstacle by pushing her horse into what appeared to be a gap.

Scarcely had she got fairly into it,

However,

Before the beasts closed in behind her,

And she found herself completely embedded in the moving stream of fierce-eyed,

Long-horned bollocks.

Accustomed as she was to deal with cattle,

She was not alarmed in her situation,

But took advantage of every opportunity to urge her horse on in the hopes of pushing her way through the cavalcade.

Unfortunately,

The horns of one of the creatures,

Either by accident or design,

Came in a violent contact with the flank of the Mustang,

And excited it to madness.

In an instant it reared up upon its hind legs with a snort of rage,

And pranced and tossed in a way that would have unseated any but a most skilful rider.

The situation was full of peril.

Every plunge of the excited horse brought it against the horns again,

And goaded it to fresh madness.

It was all that a girl could do to keep herself in the saddle,

Yet a slip would mean a terrible death under the hoofs of the unwieldy and terrified animals.

Unaccustomed to sudden emergencies her head began to swim,

And her grip upon the brittle started to relax.

Choked by the rising cloud of dust and by the steam from the struggling creatures,

She might have abandoned her efforts in despair,

But for a kindly voice at her elbow which assured her of assistance.

At the same moment the sinewy brown hand caught the frightened horse by the curb,

And forcing away through the drove soon brought her to the outskirts.

"'You're not hurt,

I hope,

Miss,

' said her preserver respectfully.

She looked at his dark,

Fierce face,

And laughed saucily.

"'I'm awfully frightened,

' she said naively.

"'Whoever would have thought that Pontius would have been so scared by a lot of cows?

' "'Thank God you kept your seat,

' the other said earnestly.

He was a tall,

Savage-looking young fellow,

Mounted on a powerful roan horse,

And clad in the rough dress of a hunter,

With a long rifle slung over his shoulders.

"'I guess you are the daughter of John Ferrier,

' he remarked.

"'I saw you ride down from his house.

When you see him,

Ask him if he remembers the Jefferson hopes of St.

Louis.

If he's the same Ferrier,

My father and he were pretty thick.

' "'Haven't you better come and ask yourself?

' she asked demurely.

The young fellow seemed pleased at the suggestion,

And his dark eyes sparkled with pleasure.

"'I'll do so,

' he said.

"'We've been in the mountains for two months,

And are not over and above in visiting condition.

He must take us as he finds us.

He has a good deal to thank you for,

And so have I,

' she answered.

He's awful fond of me—if those cows had jumped on me,

He'd have never gotten over it.

' "'Neither would I,

' said her companion.

"'You?

Well,

I don't see that it would make much matter to you,

Anyhow.

You ain't even a friend of ours.

' The young hunter's dark face grew so gloomy over this remark that Lucy Ferrier laughed aloud.

"'There,

I didn't mean that,

' she said.

Of course,

You are a friend now.

You must come and see us.

Now I must push along,

Or father won't trust me with his business any more.

Good-bye.

' "'Good-bye,

' he answered,

Raising his broad sombrero and bending over her little hand.

She wheeled her Mustang around,

Gave it a cut with her riding whip,

And darted away down the broad road in a rolling cloud of dust.

Young Jefferson Hope rode on with his companions,

Gloomy and tachy-turned.

He and they had been among the Nevada mountains prospecting for silver,

And were returning to Salt Lake City in the hope of raising capital,

Enough to work some loads which they had discovered.

He had been as keen as any of them upon the business until this sudden incident had drawn his thoughts into another channel.

The sight of the fair young girl,

As frank and wholesome as the Sierra breezes,

Had stirred his volcanic,

Untamed heart to its very depths.

When she had vanished from his sight,

He realized that a crisis had come in his life,

And that neither silver speculations nor any other questions could ever be of such importance to him as this new and all-absorbing one.

The love which had sprung up in his heart was not the sudden,

Changeable fancy of a boy,

But rather the wild,

Fierce passion of a man of strong will and imperious temper.

He had been accustomed to succeed in all that he undertook.

He swore in his heart that he would not fail in this if human effort and human perseverance could render him successful.

He called on John Farrier that night,

And many times again,

Until his face was a familiar one at the farmhouse.

John,

Cooped up in the valley and absorbed in his work,

Had had little chance of learning the news of the outside world during the last twelve years.

All this Jefferson Hope was able to tell him,

And in a style which interested Lucy as well as her father.

He had been a pioneer in California,

And could narrate many a strange tale of fortunes made and fortunes lost in those wild,

Halcyon days.

He had been a scout,

Too,

And a trapper,

A silver explorer,

And a ranch man.

Wherever stirring adventures were to be had,

Jefferson Hope had been there in search of them.

He soon became a favorite with the old farmer,

Who spoke eloquently of his virtues.

On such occasions Lucy was silent,

But her blushing cheek and her bright happy eyes showed only too clearly that her young heart was no longer her own.

Her honest father may not have observed these symptoms,

But they were assuredly not thrown away upon the man who had won her affections.

It was a summer evening when he came galloping down the road and pulled up at the gate.

She was at the doorway and came down to meet him.

He threw the bridle over the fence and strode up the pathway.

"'I am off,

Lucy,

' he said,

Taking her two hands in his and gazing tenderly down into her face.

"'I won't ask you to come with me now.

But will you be ready to come when I am here again?

' "'And when will that be?

' she asked,

Blushing and laughing.

"'A couple of months at the outside,

I will come and claim you then,

My darling.

There's no one who can stand between us.

' "'And how about father?

' she asked.

"'He has given his consent,

Provided we get these mines working all right.

I have no fear on that head.

' "'Oh,

Well,

Of course.

If you and father have arranged it all,

There's no more to be said,

' she whispered,

With her cheek against his broad breast.

"'Thank God,

' he said,

Hoarsely,

Stooping and kissing her.

"'It is settled then.

The longer I stay,

The harder it will be to go.

They are waiting for me at the canyon.

Goodbye,

My own darling,

Goodbye.

In two months you shall see me.

' He tore himself from her as she spoke,

And flinging himself upon his horse,

Galloped furiously away,

Never even looking round,

As though afraid that his resolution might fail him if he took one glance at what he was leaving.

She stood at the gate,

Gazing after him until he vanished from her sight.

Then she walked back into the house,

The happiest girl in all of Utah.

Chapter 3 John Ferrier Talks with the Prophet Three weeks had passed since Jefferson Hope and his comrades had departed from Salt Lake City.

John Ferrier's heart was sore within him when he thought of the young man's return,

And of the impending loss of his adopted child.

Yet her bright and happy face reconciled him to the arrangement more than any argument could have done.

He had always determined,

Deep down in his resolute heart,

That nothing would ever induce him to allow his daughter to wed a Mormon.

Such a marriage he regarded as no marriage at all,

But as shame and a disgrace.

Whatever he might think of the Mormon doctrines,

Upon that one he was inflexible.

He had to seal his mouth on the subject,

However,

For to express an unorthodox opinion was a dangerous matter in those days in the land of the saints.

Yes,

A dangerous matter,

So dangerous that even the most saintly dared only whisper their religious opinions with bathed breath,

Lest something which fell from their lips might be misconstrued and bring down a swift retribution upon them.

The victims of persecution had now turned persecutors on their own account,

And persecutors of the most terrible description.

Not the Inquisition of Seville,

Nor the German Wengericht,

Nor the secret societies of Italy were ever able to put a more forbiddable machinery in motion than that which cast a cloud over the state of Utah.

Its invisibility and the mystery which was attached to it made this organization doubly terrible.

It appeared to be omniscient and omnipotent,

And yet was neither seen nor heard.

The man who held out against the church banished away,

And none knew whether he had gone or what had befallen him.

His wife and his children awaited him at home,

But no father ever returned to tell them how he had fared at the hands of his secret judges.

A rash word or a hasty act was followed by annihilation,

And yet none knew what the nature might be of this terrible power which was suspended over them.

No wonder that man went about in fear and trembling,

And that even in the heart of the wilderness did there not whisper the doubts which oppressed them.

At first this vague and terrible power was exercised only upon the recalcitrons,

Who have embraced the Mormon faith,

Wished afterwards to pervert or to abandon it.

Soon however it took a wider range.

The supply of adult women was running short,

And polygamy without a female population on which to draw was a barren doctrine indeed.

Strange rumors began to be bandied about.

Rumors of murdered immigrants,

And rifled camps in regions where Indians had never been seen.

Fresh women appeared in the harems of the elders,

Women who pined and wept,

And bore upon their faces the traces of an un-extinguishable horror.

Belated wanderers upon the mountains spoke of gangs of armed men,

Masked,

Stealthy and noiseless,

Who flitted by them in the darkness.

These tales and rumors took substance and shape,

And were corroborated and re-corroborated,

Until they resolved themselves into a definite name.

To this day,

In the lonely ranches of the West,

The name of the Danite Band,

Or the Avenging Angels,

Is a sinister and ill-omened one.

Fuller knowledge of the organization which produced such terrible results served to increase rather than to lessen the horror which it inspired in the minds of men.

None knew who belonged to this ruthless society.

The names of the participators in the deeds of blood and violence done under the name of religion were kept profoundly secret.

The very friend to whom you communicated your misgivings,

As to the prophet and his mission,

Might be one of those who could come forth at night with fire and sword to exact a terrible preparation.

Hence every man feared his neighborhood,

And none spoke of the things which were nearest his heart.

One fine morning John Ferrier was about to set out to his wheat fields,

When he heard the click of the latch,

And looking through the window saw a stout,

Sandy-haired middle-aged man coming up the pathway.

His heart leapt to his mouth,

For this was none other than the great Brigham Young himself.

Full of trepidation,

For he knew that such a visit boded him little good.

Ferrier ran to the door to greet the Mormon chief.

The latter,

However,

Received his salutations coldly,

And followed him with a stern face into the sitting-room.

Brother Ferrier,

He said,

Taking a seat,

And eyeing the farmer keenly from his light-colored eyelashes.

The true believers have been good friends to you.

We picked you up when you were starving in the desert.

We shared our food with you,

Led you safe to the Chosen Valley,

Gave you a goodly share of the land,

And allowed you to wax rich under our protection.

Is not this so?

It is so,

Answered John Ferrier.

In return for all this we asked but one condition.

That was that you should embrace the true faith,

And conform in every way to its usages.

This you promised to do.

And this,

If common report says truly,

You have neglected.

And how have I neglected it?

Asked Ferrier,

Throwing out his hands in expostulation.

Have I not given the common fund?

Have I not attended at the temple?

Have I not?

Where are your wives?

Asked Young,

Looking round him.

Call them in,

That I may greet them.

It is true that I have not married,

Ferrier answered.

But women were few,

And there were many who had better claims than I.

I was not a lonely man.

I had my daughter to attend to my wants.

It is of that daughter that I would speak to you,

Said the leader of the Mormons.

She has grown to be the flower of Utah,

And has found favor in the eyes of the many who are high in the land.

John Ferrier groaned internally.

There are stories of her which I would feign disbelief.

It is that she is sealed to some Gentile.

This must be the gossip of idle tongues.

What is the thirteenth rule in the code of the sainted Joseph Smith?

Let every maiden of the true faith marry one of the elect,

For if she wed a Gentile she commits a grievous sin.

This being so,

It is impossible that you,

Who profess the Holy Creed,

Should suffer your daughter to violate it.

John Ferrier made no answer,

But he played nervously with his riding whip.

Upon this one point your whole faith shall be tested,

So it has been decided in the sacred council of four.

The girl is young,

And we would not have her wet gray hairs.

Neither would we deprive her of all choice.

We elders have many havers,

But our children must also be provided.

Stangerson has a son,

And Dreber has a son,

And either of them would gladly welcome your daughter to their house.

Let her choose between them.

They are young and rich,

And of the true faith.

What say you to that?

Ferrier remained silent for some little time with his brows knitted.

You will give us time,

He said at last.

My daughter is very young.

She is scarce of an age to marry.

She shall have a month to choose,

Said Young,

Arising from his seat.

At the end of that time she shall give her answer.

He was passing through the door when he turned,

With flushed face and flashing eyes.

It were better for you,

John Ferrier,

He thundered,

That you and she were now lying blanched skeletons upon the Sierra Blanco,

Than that you should put your weak wills against the order of the Holy Four.

With a threatening gesture of his hand he turned from the door,

And Ferrier heard his heavy steps scrunching along the shingly path.

He was still sitting with his elbows upon his knees,

Considering how he should broach the matter to his daughter when a soft hand was laid upon his,

And looking up he saw her standing beside him.

One glance at her pale,

Frightened face showed him that she had heard what had passed.

I could not help it,

She said in answer to his look.

His voice rang through the house.

Oh,

Father,

Father,

What shall we do?

Don't you scare yourself,

He answered,

Drawing her to him,

And passing his broad,

Rough hand caressingly over her chestnut hair.

We'll fix it up somehow or another.

You don't find your fancy kind of lessening for this chap,

Do you?

A sob in the squeeze of his hand was her only answer.

No,

Of course not.

I shouldn't care to hear you say you did.

He's a likely lad,

And he's a Christian,

Which is more than these folk here,

In spite of all their praying and preaching.

There's a party starting for Nevada tomorrow,

And I'll manage to send him a message letting him know the hole we are in.

If I know anything of that young man,

He'll be back here with a speed that would whip electro-telegraphs.

Lucy laughed through her tears at her father's description.

When he comes,

He will advise us for the best.

But it is you for that I am frightened,

Dear.

One hears—one hears such dreadful stories about those who oppose the prophet.

Something terrible always happens to them.

But we haven't opposed him yet,

Her father answered.

It will be time to look out for squalls when we do.

We have a clear month before us.

At the end of that,

I guess we had best shin out of Utah.

Leave Utah?

That's about the size of it.

But the farm?

We will raise as much as we can in money and let the rest go.

To tell the truth,

Lucy,

It isn't the first time I have thought of doing it.

I don't care about knuckling under to any man,

As these folk do to their darn prophet.

I'm a freeborn American,

And it's all new to me.

Guess I'm too old to learn.

If he comes browsing about this farm,

He might chance to run up against a charge of buckshot traveling in the opposite direction.

But they won't let us leave,

His daughter objective.

Wait till Jefferson comes,

And we'll soon manage that.

In the meantime,

Don't you fret yourself,

My dearie,

And don't get your eyes swelled up,

Else he'll be walking into me when he sees you.

There's nothing to be feared about,

And there's no danger at all.

John Ferrier uttered these consoling remarks in a very confident tone,

But she could not help observing that he paid unusual care to the fastening of the doors that night,

And that he carefully cleaned and loaded the rusty old shotgun which hung upon the wall of his bedroom.

Chapter 4 A Flight for Life On the morning which followed his interview with the Mormon prophet,

John Ferrier went in to Salt Lake City,

And having found his acquaintance,

Who was bound for the Nevada Mountains,

He entrusted him with his message to Jefferson Hope.

In it he told the young man of the imminent danger which threatened them,

And how necessary it was that he should return.

Having done thus,

He felt easier in his mind,

And returned home with a lighter heart.

As he approached his farm,

He was surprised to see a horse hitched to each of the posts of the gate.

Still more surprised was he on entering,

To find two young men in possession of his sitting room.

One with a long pale face was leaning back in the rocking chair,

With his feet cocked up on the stove.

The other,

A bald-necked youth with coarse bloated features,

Was standing in front of the window with his hands in his pockets,

Whistling a popular hymn.

Both of them nodded to Ferrier as he entered,

And the one in the rocking chair commenced the conversation.

"'Maybe you don't know us,

' he said,

"'This here is the son of Elder Dreber,

And I'm Joseph Stangerson,

Who travelled with you in the desert when the Lord stretched out His hand and gathered you into the true fold.

' "'As He will all the nations in His own good time,

' said the other in a nasal voice,

He grindeth slowly but exceeding small.

' John Ferrier bowed coldly.

He had guessed who his visitors were.

"'We have come,

' continued Stangerson,

"'at the advice of our fathers to solicit the hand of your daughter,

For whichever of us may seem good to you and to her.

"'As I have but four wives,

And Brother Dreber here has seven,

It appears to me that my claim is the stronger one.

' "'Nay,

Nay,

Brother Stangerson,

' cried the other.

"'The question is not how many wives we have,

But how many we can keep.

My father has now given over his mills to me,

And I am the richer man.

' "'But my prospects are better,

' said the other,

Wormily.

"'When the Lord removes my father,

I shall have his tanning yard and his leather factory.

Then I am your elder,

And I am higher in the church.

' "'It will be for the maiden to decide,

' rejoined young Dreber,

Smirking at his own reflection in the glass.

"'We will leave it all to her decision.

' During this dialogue,

John Ferrier had stood fuming in the doorway,

Hardly able to keep his riding whip from the backs of his two visitors.

"'Look here,

' he said at last,

Strutting up to them.

"'When my daughter summons you,

You can come.

But until then,

I don't want to see your faces again.

' The two young mermen stared at him in amazement.

In their eyes,

This competition between them for the maiden's hand was the highest of honours both to her and her father.

"'There are two ways out of the room,

' cried Ferrier.

"'There is the door,

And there is the window.

Which do you care to use?

' His brown face looked so savage,

And his gaunt hands so threatening that his visitors sprang to their feet and beat a hurried retreat.

The old farmer followed them to the door.

"'Let me know when you have settled which it is to be,

' he said,

Sardonically.

"'You shall smart for this,

' Stangerson cried,

White with rage.

"'You have defied the prophet and the council of four.

You shall rue it to the end of your days.

' The hand of the Lord shall be heavy upon you,

' cried young Dreber.

"'He will arise and smite you.

' "'Then I'll start the smiting,

' exclaimed Ferrier furiously,

And would have rushed upstairs for his gun had not Lucy seized him by the arm and restrained him.

Before he could escape from her,

The clatter of horses' hoops told him that they were beyond his reach.

"'The young canting rascals,

' he exclaimed,

Wiping the perspiration from his forehead.

"'I would sooner see you in your grave,

My girl,

Than the wife of either of them.

' "'And so should I,

Father,

' she answered with spirit.

"'But Jefferson will soon be here.

' "'Yes.

It will not be long before he comes.

The sooner the better.

For we do not know what their next move may be.

' It was indeed high time that someone capable of giving advice and help should come to the aid of the sturdy old farmer and his adopted daughter.

In the whole history of the settlement there had never been such a case of rank disobedience to the authority of the elders.

If minor errors were punished so sternly,

What would be the fate of this arch-rebel?

Thayer knew that his wealth and position would be of no avail to him.

Others as well known and as rich as himself had been spirited away before now,

In their goods given over to the church.

He was a brave man,

But he trembled at the vague,

Shadowy terrors which hung over him.

Only known danger he could face with a firm lip.

But his suspense was unnerving.

He concealed his fears from his daughter,

However,

And defected to make light of the whole matter,

Though she,

With a keen eye of love,

Saw plainly that he was ill at ease.

He expected that he would receive some message or remonstrance from young as to his conduct,

And he was not mistaken,

Though it came in an unlooked-for manner.

Upon rising next morning he found,

To his surprise,

A small square of paper pinned on to the coverlet of his bed,

Just over his chest.

On it was printed,

In bold,

Straggling letters,

29 days are given you for amendment.

And then?

The dash was more fear-inspiring than any threat could have been.

How this warning came into his room puzzled John Ferrier sorely.

For his servant slept in an outhouse,

And the doors and windows had been all secured.

He crumpled the paper up,

And said nothing to his daughter.

But the incident struck a chill into his heart.

The twenty-nine days were evidently the balance of the month which young had promised.

What strength and courage could avail against an enemy armed with such mysterious powers?

The hand which fastened that pin might have struck him to the heart,

And he could never have known who had slain him.

Still more shaken was he next morning.

They had sat down to their breakfast,

When Lucy,

With a cry of surprise,

Pointed upwards.

In the center of the ceiling was scrawled with a burned stick apparently,

The number twenty-eight.

To his daughter it was unintelligible,

And he did not enlighten her.

That night he sat up with his gun and kept watch and word.

He saw and he heard nothing.

And yet,

In the morning,

The great twenty-seven had been painted upon the outside of his door.

Thus they followed the day.

And as sure as morning came,

He found that his unseen enemies had kept their register.

He had marked up in some conspicuous position how many days were still left to him out of the month of grace.

Sometimes the fatal numbers appeared upon the walls.

Sometimes upon the floors.

Occasionally they were on small placards,

Stuck upon the garden gate or the railings.

With all his vigilance John Ferrier could not discover whence these daily warnings proceeded.

The horror which was almost superstitious came upon him at the sight of them.

He became haggard and restless,

And his eyes had the troubled look of some hunted creature.

He had but one hope in life now,

And that was for the arrival of the young hunter from Nevada.

Twenty had changed to fifteen,

And fifteen to ten.

There was no news of the absentee.

One by one the numbers dwindled in town,

And still there came no sign of him.

Whenever a horseman clattered down the road,

Or a driver shouted at his team,

The old farmer hurried to the gate thinking that help had arrived at last.

At last,

When he saw five give way to four,

And that again to three,

He lost heart,

And abandoned all hope of escape.

Single-handed,

And with his limited knowledge of the mountains which surrounded the settlement,

He knew that he was powerless.

The more frequented roads were strictly watched and guarded,

And none could pass along them without an order from the council.

Turn which way he would,

There appeared to be no avoiding the blow which hung over him.

Yet,

The old man never wavered in his resolution to part with life itself before he consented to what he regarded as his daughter's dishonor.

He was sitting alone one evening,

Pondering deeply over his troubles,

And searching vainly for some way out of them.

That morning had shown the figure,

Too,

Upon the wall of his house,

And the next day would be the last of the allotted time.

What was to happen then?

All manner of vague and terrible fancies filled his imagination.

And his daughter,

What was to become of her after he was gone?

Was there no escape from the invisible network which was drawn all around them?

He sank his head upon the table,

And sobbed at the thought of his own impotence.

What was that?

In the silence he heard a gentle scratching sound,

Low,

But very distinct in the quiet of the night.

It came from the door of the house.

Ferrier crept into the hall and listened intently.

There was a pause for a few moments,

And then the low,

Insidious sound was repeated.

Someone was evidently tapping very gently upon one of the panels of the door.

Was it some midnight assassin who had come to carry out the murderous orders of the secret tribunal?

Or was it some agent who was marking up that the last day of grace has arrived?

John Ferrier felt that instant death would be better than the suspense which shook his nerves and chilled his heart.

Springing forward he drew the bolt and threw the door open.

Outside all was calm and quiet.

The night was fine,

And the stars were twinkling brightly overhead.

The little front garden lay before the farmer's eyes,

Bounded by the fence and gate.

But neither there nor on the road was any human being to be seen.

With a sigh of relief Ferrier looked to right and to left,

Until happening to glance straight down at his own feet he saw to his astonishment a man laying flat upon his face upon the ground,

With arms and legs all a sprawl.

So unnerved was he at the sight that he leaned up against the wall with his hand to his throat to stifle his inclination to call out.

His first thought was that the prostrate figure was that of a some wounded or dying man.

But as he watched it he saw it writh along the ground and into the hall,

With the rapidity and noiselessness of a serpent.

Once within the house the man sprang to his feet,

Closed the door,

And revealed to the astonished farmer the fierce face and resolute expression of Jefferson hope.

"'Good God!

' gasped John Ferrier.

"'How you scared me!

Whatever made you come in like that?

' "'Give me food,

' the other said hoarsely.

"'I have had no time for a bite or sup for eight and forty hours.

' He flung himself upon the cold meat and bread which were still lying upon the table from his host's supper,

And devoured it voraciously.

"'Does Lucy bear up as well?

' he asked,

When he had satisfied his hunger.

"'Yes,

She does not know the danger,

' her father answered.

"'That is well.

The house is watched on every side.

That is why I crawled my way up to it.

They may be darn sharp,

But they are not quite sharp enough to catch a wash-you hunter.

' John Ferrier felt a different man now that he realized that he had a devoted ally.

He seized the young man's leathery hand and wrung it cordially.

"'You're a man to be proud of,

' he said.

"'There are not many who would come to share our dangers and troubles.

' "'You've hit it there,

Pard,

' the young hunter answered.

"'I have a respect for you.

But if you were alone in this business,

I'd think twice before I put my head into such a hornet's nest.

' "'It's Lucy that brings me here.

And before harm comes on her,

I guess there will be one less of the Hope family in Utah.

' "'What are we to do?

' "'Tomorrow is your last day.

And unless you act tonight,

You are lost.

I have a mule and two horses waiting in the Eagle Ravine.

How much money have you?

' "'Two thousand dollars in gold,

And five in notes.

That will do.

I have as much more to add to it.

"'We must push for Carson City through the mountains.

You had best wake,

Lucy.

It is as well that the servants do not sleep in the house.

' While Furrier was absent,

Preparing his daughter for the approaching journey,

Jefferson Hope packed all the eatables that he could find into a small parcel,

And filled a stoneware jar with water,

For he knew by experience that the mountain wells were few and far between.

He had hardly completed his arrangement before the farmer returned with his daughter,

All dressed and ready for his start.

The greeting between the lovers was warm,

But brief.

For minutes were precious.

And there was much to be done.

"'We must make our start at once,

' said Jefferson Hope.

Standing in a low but resolute voice,

Like one who realizes the greatness of the peril,

But has steeled his heart to meet it.

The front and back entrances are watched,

But with caution we may get away through the side window and across the fields.

Once on the road we are only two miles from the ravine where the horses are waiting.

By daybreak we should be half way through the mountains.

' "'What if we are stopped?

' asked Ferrier.

Hope slapped the revolver butt which protruded from the front of his tunic.

"'If there are too many for us,

We shall take two or three of them with us,

' he said with a sinister smile.

The lights inside the house had all been extinguished,

And from the darkened window Ferrier peered over the fields which had been his own,

And which he was now about to abandon forever.

He had long nerd himself to the sacrifice,

However,

And the thought of the honor and happiness of his daughter outweighed any regret at his ruined fortunes.

All looked so peaceful and happy,

The rustling trees and the broad silent stretch of grainland,

That it was difficult to realize that the spirit of murder lurked through it all.

Yet the white face and set expression of the young hunter showed in his approach to the house he had seen enough to satisfy him upon the head.

Ferrier carried the bag of golden notes.

Jefferson Hope had the scanty provisions and water,

While Lucy had a small bundle containing a few of her more valued possessions.

Opening the window very slowly and carefully,

They waited until a dark cloud had somewhat obscured the night,

And then one by one passed through into the little garden.

With bated breath and crouching figures they stumbled across it,

And gained the shelter of the hedge,

Which they skirted until they came to the gap which opened into the cornfields.

They had just reached this point when the young man seized his two companions and dragged them down into the shadow,

Where they lay silent and trembling.

It was as well that his prairie training had given Jefferson Hope the years of elinks.

He and his friends had hardly crouched down before the melancholy hooting of a mountain owl was heard within a few yards of them,

Which was immediately answered by another hoot at a small distance.

At the same moment a vague shadowy figure emerged from the gap for which they had been making and uttered the plaintive signal cry again,

On which a second man appeared out of the obscurity.

"'Tomorrow at midnight,

' said the first,

Who appeared to be in authority,

When the whip-poor wills caused three times.

"'It is well,

' returned the other.

"'Shall I tell brother Drebber?

' Pass it on to him,

And from him to the others.

Nine to seven.

Seven to five,

Repeated the other,

And the two figures flitted away in different directions.

Their concluding words had evidently been some form of sign and countersign.

The instant that their footsteps had died away in the distance,

Jefferson Hope sprang to his feet,

And helping his companions through the gap,

Led the way across the fields at the top of his speed,

Supporting and half-carrying the girl when her strength appeared to fail her.

"'Hurry on!

Hurry on!

' he gasped from time to time.

"'We are through the line of sentinels.

Everything depends on speed.

Hurry on!

' Once on the high road they made rapid progress.

Only once did they meet anyone,

And then they managed to slip into a field,

And so avoid recognition.

Before reaching the town,

The hunter branched away into a rugged and narrow footpath which led to the mountains.

Two dark jagged peaks loomed above them through the darkness,

And the file which led between them was the eagle canyon in which the horses were awaiting them.

With unerring instinct,

Jefferson Hope picked his way among the great boulders,

And along the bed of a dried-up water-course until he came to the retired corner,

Screened with rocks,

Where the faithful animals had been picketed.

The girl was placed upon the mule,

And all furrier upon one of the horses,

With his money-bag,

While Jefferson Hope led the other along the precipitous and dangerous path.

It was a bewildering brute for anyone who was not accustomed to face nature in her wildest moods.

On the one side,

A great crag towered up a thousand feet or more,

Black,

Stern,

And menacing,

With long basaltic columns upon its rugged surface,

Like the ribs of some petrified monster.

On the other hand,

A wild chaos of boulders and debris made all advance impossible.

Between the two ran the irregular track,

So narrow in places that they had to travel in Indian file,

And so rough that only practiced riders could have traversed it at all.

Yet,

In spite of all dangers and difficulties,

The hearts of the fugitives were light within them,

For every step increased the distance between them and the terrible despotism from which they were flying.

They soon had proof,

However,

That they were still within the jurisdiction of the Saints.

They had reached the very wildest and most desolate portion of the pass,

When the girl gave a startled cry,

And pointed upwards.

On a rock which overlooked the track,

Showing out dark and plain against the sky,

There stood a solitary sentinel.

He saw them as soon as they perceived him,

And his military challenge of,

Who goes there,

Rang through the silent ravine.

"'Travelers for Nevada,

' said Jefferson Hope,

With his hand upon the rifle which hung by his saddle.

They could see the lonely watcher fingering his gun,

And peering down at them,

As if dissatisfied at their reply.

By whose permission?

' he asked.

The Holy Four,

Answered Furrier.

His Mormon experiences had taught him that that was the highest authority to which he could refer.

"'Nine from seven,

' cried the sentinel.

Seven from five returned Jefferson Hope promptly,

Remembering the countersign which he had heard in the garden.

"'Pass and let the Lord go with you,

' said the Voice from above.

Beyond his post the path broadened out,

And the horses were able to break into a trot.

Looking back,

They could see the solitary watcher leaning upon his gun,

And knew that they had passed the outlying post of the chosen people,

And that freedom lay before them.

" This is the end of part four of A Study in Scarlet,

By Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.

Reviews

Very interesting. I found this on the sleep stories list. I will go back and start at chapter 1. I love what Amadeus posts especially the way he pronounces some words like "bridle" which should sound like 'brai-dl' ,❤️‍🩹

Very suspenseful! 👍👍👍👍👍 Can’t wait until the next chapter! Thank you kindly for your excellent reading of this story! 🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏