Susannah found that the fact that she had been to the meeting had not irritated the Smiths, although Mrs. Rigdon had called to make the most of the story.  Emma, absorbed in manifold cares for the children, was only solicitous on Susannah’s account lest a night’s rest in that house should be impossible.  Smith, pacing with a child in his arms, seemed to be head and shoulders above the level whose surface could be ruffled by life’s minor affairs.  With the eye of his inner mind he was gazing either at some lofty scheme of his own imagining, or at heaven or at vacancy.  All of him that was looking at the smaller beings about him was composed and kind.

One of the twins, less ill than the other, had fallen asleep in Emma’s arms.  The other was wailing pitifully upon the prophet’s breast.

“Do you and Mrs. Halsey go in and lie down with that young un, Emmar, and rest now for a bit while ye can.”

“I can’t leave ye, Joseph, with the child setting out to cry all night like that.”

But he had his way.  Long after they had lain down in the inner room Susannah heard him rocking the wailing babe, or trying to feed it, or pacing the floor.  Emma, worn out, slept beside her.  Upstairs the owners of the house, an old couple named Johnson, and Emma’s own child, were at rest.

Susannah lay rigidly still in the small portion of the bed which fell to her share.  Her mind was up, wandering through waste places, seeking rest in vain.  The wail of the child in the next room at last had ceased.  The prophet had lain down with it on the truckle bed.  Long after midnight Susannah began to hear a low sound as of creeping footsteps in the field.  Some people were passing very near, surely they would go past in a moment?  She heard them brushing against the outer wall, and gleams of a light carried fell upon the window.

In a minute more the outer door of the house was broken open.  Emma woke with a cry; instinct, even in sleep, made her spring toward the door that separated her from her husband.

The two women stood in the inner doorway, but the coarse arm of a masked man was already stretched across it, an impassable barrier.  The prophet lay on the child’s bed, so heavy with sleep tardily sought that he did not awake until four men had laid hold of him.  All the light upon the scene came from a smoking torch which one of the housebreakers held.  Some twenty men might have been there inside the room and out.  The women could barely see that Smith was borne out in the midst of the band.  He struggled fiercely when aroused, but was overpowered by numbers.

The owners of the house came down from above, huddling together and holding Emma, who would have thrown herself in the midst of the mob.

Susannah had not undressed.  She threw her cloak over her head and ran out, determined to go to the village and demand help in the name of law and a common humanity.  She was in a mood to be reckless in aiding the cause she had espoused.