"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."