"Governor Cumming is a very liberal and humane man, my dear. But it is apparently true that we shall have to bow to the will of the government of this great nation which we all love so well, and allow these soldiers, this terrible army, to come into the Territory and quarter themselves here, for how long no one can tell. Ostensibly the army came to install Governor Cumming; but as you know, Governor Cumming has been peaceably installed, yet General Johnston insists on coming into the Valley. President Young has turned over the records and great seal of our Territory which our wicked enemies swore to President Buchanan we had destroyed, and now Governor Cumming has notified Brother Brigham that a Peace Commission may be sent out to this Territory to hand us out a Proclamation of Amnesty. And there is the full story." "What's a Peace Commission and what is amnesty?" asked Ellen. "Surely, my dear! What is amnesty? It is forgiveness. And why the United States should deem it necessary to send an army out here to crush us into submission, when we had never revolted, and then think it necessary to send us a proclamation of amnesty, when we have done nothing to be forgiven for, is more than a poor woman can understand. However, the plain English of it is that someone wanted the army out of the way in Washington, others wanted the money that comes to contractors, and still others don't know anything about it, except someone has raised another cry of 'Down with the Mormons.' Governor Cumming hopes to clear everything up with the aid of this Peace Commission. But, girls, I have something very serious to confide to you; next Monday we are to pack up everything that can be loaded into wagons, leaving the rest piled up with kindlings ready to burn, and then we are to start for the South." "For the South? Where?" asked the two girls in one breath. "I cannot tell. Some have already gone quietly ahead. We shall pack up everything that we can pile in our wagons, and with sufficient provisions to last us a year, we shall once more go out into the wilderness. This time we shall take to the mountains." "Oh, Aunt Clara, surely you are not in earnest?" "Girls, this is no time for any of us to be in jest. We know not what a day may bring forth. Do you get to work at once. And then, when all is ready, we shall fill this house with sufficient kindling to burn every stick and log within twenty-four hours of the time when the word is given." "Aunt Clara! Burn this house which you love so well? With this dear green door? It's the only green door in the city. And all this comfort which you have worked so hard to secure? Oh, I can't bear the thought. And the lettuce and radishes which you sowed on the snow and which are just now ready to eat? What about everybody else?" asked Ellen, incoherently.