‘Probably,’ said Gerald.

Meanwhile Ursula was peeping under one of the cloths. There sat the canary in a corner, bunched and fluffed up for sleep.

‘How ridiculous!’ she cried. ‘It really thinks the night has come! How absurd! Really, how can one have any respect for a creature that is so easily taken in!’

‘Yes,’ sang Hermione, coming also to look. She put her hand on Ursula’s arm and chuckled a low laugh. ‘Yes, doesn’t he look comical?’ she chuckled. ‘Like a stupid husband.’

Then, with her hand still on Ursula’s arm, she drew her away, saying, in her mild sing–song:

‘How did you come here? We saw Gudrun too.’

‘I came to look at the pond,’ said Ursula, ‘and I found Mr Birkin there.’

‘Did you? This is quite a Brangwen land, isn’t it!’

‘I’m afraid I hoped so,’ said Ursula. ‘I ran here for refuge, when I saw you down the lake, just putting off.’

‘Did you! And now we’ve run you to earth.’

Hermione’s eyelids lifted with an uncanny movement, amused but overwrought. She had always her strange, rapt look, unnatural and irresponsible.

‘I was going on,’ said Ursula. ‘Mr Birkin wanted me to see the rooms. Isn’t it delightful to live here? It is perfect.’

‘Yes,’ said said Hermione, abstractedly. Then she turned right away from Ursula, ceased to know her existence.

‘How do you feel, Rupert?’ she sang in a new, affectionate tone, to Birkin.

‘Very well,’ he replied.

‘Were you quite comfortable?’ The curious, sinister, rapt look was on Hermione’s face, she shrugged her bosom in a convulsed movement, and seemed like one half in a trance.

‘Quite comfortable,’ he replied.

There was a long pause, whilst Hermione looked at him for a long time, from under her heavy, drugged eyelids.

‘And you think you’ll be happy here?’ she said at last.

‘I’m sure I shall.’

‘I’m sure I shall do anything for him as I can,’ said the labourer’s wife. ‘And I’m sure our master will; so I HOPE he’ll find himself comfortable.’

Hermione turned and looked at her slowly.

‘Thank you so much,’ she said, and then she turned completely away again. She recovered her position, and lifting her face towards him, and addressing him exclusively, she said:

‘Have you measured the rooms?’

‘No,’ he said, ‘I’ve been mending the punt.’

‘Shall we do it now?’ she said slowly, balanced and dispassionate.

‘Have you got a tape measure, Mrs Salmon?’ he said, turning to the woman.

‘Yes sir, I think I can find one,’ replied the woman, bustling immediately to a basket. ‘This is the only one I’ve got, if it will do.’

Hermione took it, though it was offered to him.

“If we take you with us,” he said, in solemn words, “it can only be as believers in our own creed. We shall have no wolves in our fold. Better far that your bones should bleach in this wilderness than that you should prove to be that little speck of decay which in time corrupts the whole fruit. Will you come with us on these terms?”

“Guess I’ll come with you on any terms,” said Ferrier, with such emphasis that the grave Elders could not restrain a smile. The leader alone retained his stern, impressive expression.

“Take him, Brother Stangerson,” he said, “give him food and drink, and the child likewise. Let it be your task also to teach him our holy creed. We have delayed long enough. Forward! On, on to Zion!”

“On, on to Zion!” cried the crowd of Mormons, and the words rippled down the long caravan, passing from mouth to mouth until they died away in a dull murmur in the far distance. With a cracking of whips and a creaking of wheels the great wagons got into motion, and soon the whole caravan was winding along once more. The Elder to whose care the two waifs had been committed led them to his wagon, where a meal was already awaiting them.

“You shall remain here,” he said. “In a few days you will have recovered from your fatigues. In the meantime, remember that now and forever you are of our religion. Brigham Young has said it, and he has spoken with the voice of Joseph Smith, which is the voice of God.”

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 skilful administrator as well as a resolute chief. Maps 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 centre of the city grew ever 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 were never absent from the monument which the immigrants erected to Him who had led them safe through many dangers.