WINNSOME'S VERDICT OF DEATH
ing cry. In answer to that cry a yell of rage hurled itself from Nathaniel's throat.
"Stop, you hell-hound!" he cried threateningly. "Stop!"
He shrieked the words again and again, maddened beyond control, and the Mormon king, whose self-possession was more that of devil than man, still held the struggling girl in his arms as he turned his head toward the voice and saw Nathaniel's long arm and knotted fist threatening him through the hole in the wall. Then Neil's name in a piercing scream resounded through the dungeon corridor and in response to it the man under Nathaniel straightened himself so quickly that his companion fell back to the floor.
"Great God! what is the matter, Nat? Quick! let me up!"
Nathaniel staggered to his feet, the breath half gone out of his body, and in another instant Neil was at the opening. The great room into which he looked was empty.
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