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assistants, and presently, without glancing up, said to the woman:
"That will do."
Ruth was led back to the bench, and the woman next to her brought forward.
This was a heavier person, with the figure and step of a matured woman. Upon
removing her bonnet she showed the plain face of a woman of forty, and it was
striking only in that strange, stony aloofness noted in the older men. Here,
Shefford thought, was the real Mormon, different in a way he could not define
from Ruth. This woman seated herself in the chair and calmly faced her
prosecutors. She manifested no emotion whatever. Shefford remembered her and
could not see any change in her deportment. This trial appeared to be of
little moment to her and she took the oath as if doing so had been a habit all
her life.
"What is your name?" asked Judge Stone, glancing up from a paper he held.
"Mary Danton."
"Family or married name?"
"My husband's name was Danton."
"Was. Is he living?"
"No."
"Where did you live when you were married to him?"
"In St. George, and later here in Stonebridge."
"You were both Mormons?"
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"Yes."
"Did you have any children by him?"
"Yes."
"How many?"
"Two."
"Are they living?"
"One of them is living."
Judge Stone bent over his paper and then slowly raised his eyes to her face.
"Are you married now?"
"No."
Again the judge consulted his notes, and held a whispered colloquy with the
two men at his table.
"Mrs. Danton, when you were arrested there were five children found in your
home. To whom do they belong?"
"Me."
"Are you their mother?"
"Yes."
"Your husband Danton is the father of only one, the eldest, according to your
former statement. Is that correct?"
"Yes."
"Who, then, is the father or who are the fathers, of your other children?"
"I do not know."
She said it with the most stony-faced calmness, with utter disregard of what
significance her words had. A strong, mystic wall of cold flint insulated her.
Strangely it came to Shefford how impossible either to doubt or believe her.
Yet he did both! Judge Stone showed a little heat.
"You don't know the father of one or all of these children?" he queried, with
sharp rising inflection of voice.
"I do not."
"Madam, I beg to remind you that you are under oath."
The woman did not reply.
"These children are nameless, then illegitimate?"
"They are."
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"You swear you are not the sealed wife of some Mormon?"
"I swear."
"How do you live maintain yourself?"
"I work."
"What at?"
"I weave, sew, bake, and work in my garden."
"My men made note of your large and comfortable cabin, even luxurious,
considering this country. How is that?"
"My husband left me comfortable."
Judge Stone shook a warning finger at the defendant.
"Suppose I were to sentence you to jail for perjury? For a year? Far from
your home and children! Would you speak tell the truth?"
"I am telling the truth. I can't speak what I don't know. . . . Send me to
jail."
Baffled, with despairing, angry impatience, Judge Stone waved the woman away.
"That will do for her. Fetch the next one," he said.
One after another he examined three more women, and arrived, by various
questions and answers different in tone and temper, at precisely the same
point as had been made in the case of Mrs. Danton. Thereupon the proceedings
rested a few moments while the judge consulted with his assistants.
Shefford was grateful for this respite. He had been worked up to an unusual
degree of interest, and now, as the next Mormon woman to be examined was she
whom he had loved and loved still, he felt rise in him emotion that threatened
to make him conspicuous unless it could be hidden. The answers of these Mormon
women had been not altogether unexpected by him, but once spoken in cold blood
under oath, how tragic, how appallingly significant of the shadow, the
mystery, the yoke that bound them! He was amazed, saddened. He felt
bewildered. He needed to think out the meaning of the falsehoods of women he
knew to be good and noble. Surely religion, instead of fear and loyalty, was
the foundation and the strength of this disgrace, this sacrifice. Absolutely,
shame was not in these women, though they swore to shameful facts. They had
been coached to give these baffling answers, every one of which seemed to
brand them, not the brazen mothers of illegitimate offspring, but faithful,
unfortunate sealed wives. To Shefford the truth was not in their words, but it
sat upon their somber brows.
Was it only his heightened imagination, or did the silence and the suspense
grow more intense when a deputy led that dark-hooded, white- clad, slender
woman to the defendant's chair? She did not walk with the poise that had been
manifest in the other women, and she sank into the chair as if she could no
longer stand.
"Please remove your hood," requested the prosecutor.
How well Shefford remembered the strong, shapely hands! He saw them tremble
at the knot of ribbon, and that tremor was communicated to him in a sympathy
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which made his pulses beat. He held his breath while she removed the hood. And
then there was revealed, he thought, the loveliest and the most tragic face
that ever was seen in a court-room.
A low, whispering murmur that swelled like a wave ran through the hall. And
by it Shefford divined, as clearly as if the fact had been blazoned on the
walls, that Mary's face had been unknown to these villagers. But the name Sago
Lily had not been unknown; Shefford heard it whispered on all sides.
The murmuring subsided. The judge and his assistants stared at Mary. As for
Shefford, there was no need of his personal feeling to make the situation
dramatic. Not improbably Judge Stone had tried many Mormon women. But
manifestly this one was different. Unhooded, Mary appeared to be only a young
girl, and a court, confronted suddenly with her youth and the suspicion
attached to her, could not but have been shocked. Then her beauty made her
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