"I'm glad!" Neil's voice came to him softly, as though he scarcely dared to speak the words aloud. After a moment he added, "Have you got a pencil, Nat? I would like to leave a little note for Winnsome." Nathaniel found both pencil and paper in one of his pockets and Neil dropped upon his knees in the mud beside the table. Ten minutes later he turned to Nathaniel and a great change had come into his face. "She always seemed like such a little child to me that I never dared--to--tell her," he faltered. "I've done it in this." "How will you get the note to her?" "I know the jailer. Perhaps when he comes to bring us our dinner I can persuade him to send it to her." Nathaniel thrust his hands into his pockets. His fingers dug into Obadiah's gold. "Would this help?" he asked. He brought out a shimmering handful of it and counted the pieces upon the table. "Two hundred dollars--if he will deliver that note," he said. Neil stared at him in amazement. "If he won't take it for that--I've got more. I'll go a thousand!" Neil stood silent, wondering if his companion was mad. Nathaniel saw the look in his face and his own flushed with sudden excitement. "Don't you understand?" he cried. "That note means Heaven or hell for Winnsome--it means life--her whole future! And you know what this cell means for us," he said more calmly. "It means that we're at the end of our rope, that the game is up, that neither of us will ever see Marion or Winnsome again. That note is the last word in life from us--from you. It's a dying prayer. Tell Winnsome your love, tell her that it is your last wish that she go out into the big, free world--away from this hell-hole, away from Strang, away from the Mormons, and live as other women live! And commanded by your love--she will go!" "I've told her that!" breathed Neil. "I knew you would!" Nathaniel threw another handful of gold on the table. "Five hundred!" he exclaimed. "It's cheap enough for a woman's soul!" He motioned for Neil to put the money in his pocket. The pain was coming back into his head, he grew dizzy, and hastened to the bench. Neil came and sat beside him. "So you think it's the end?" he asked. He was glad that his companion had guessed the truth. "Don't you?" "Yes." There was a minute's dark silence. The ticking of Nathaniel's watch sounded like the tapping of a stick. "What will happen?" "I don't know. But whatever it may be it will come to us soon. Usually it happens at night." "There is no hope?" "Absolutely none. The whole mainland is at the mercy of Strang. He fears no retribution now, no punishment for his crimes, no hand stronger than his own. He will not even give us the pretense of a hearing. I am a traitor, a revolutionist--you have attempted the life of the king. We are both condemned--both doomed."