Corianton: A Nephite Story

by B. H. Roberts

There were fundamental truths of the gospel, however, to which Corianton himself was not converted; the atonement of Christ, the resurrection, the justice of God in punishing the wicked, being among them. He found, as many since his day have found, that seeing a single manifestation of the power of God—a miracle—had not removed all the difficulties in the way of a sound faith in the gospel; and in his own mind he began to find ways of accounting for the destruction of Korihor's speech—his own excitement, the mysterious magnetism of his father which swayed men's minds, a power which he flattered himself he had inherited, notwithstanding his unbelief.

One day about sunset, while in this frame of mind, as he was passing down one of the main thoroughfares of Antionum, he saw a poor, wretched object begging of those who passed him on the street. He was miserably clad and filthy, his form emaciated and trembling with weakness, but there was something in the profile of the face, a resemblance to a countenance which lived in Corianton's recollection, that attracted his attention. As he approached nearer he observed a wildness about the man, occasioned by desperate efforts at speech, resulting only in harsh, disconnected and unintelligible mumbling. To his astonishment, it was Korihor. The form was wasted, the features shrunken almost past recognition, and insanity glared from his wild eyes. Corianton gazed in pity upon him, and Korihor returned that look with one of puzzled wonder. Then as the mists and confusion of his mind cleared up for the moment, he recognized his former, and what he accounted his false friend, and with a wild shriek fled out into the street, looking back at Corianton as he ran with an air expressive of horror. At that moment a troop of horsemen was passing down the street, and so sudden had been the poor half maniac's flight from the presence of Corianton, that he threw himself in front of the horsemen, and before they could check their speed or change their course, he was knocked down and trampled upon.

A crowd quickly gathered around the bruised and bleeding form. His case was notorious in Antionum, and it was generally believed that his dumbness was brought upon him through sorcery; hence, even while he was shunned by the people, there were many who sympathized with him, so far, at least, as execrating those who had been the means, as they thought, of bringing the evil upon him. Corianton ran to the man and raised him to a sitting posture, but he never regained consciousness; a few painful gasps, and the body sank back into the arms of the young man, limp and lifeless. One of the guards of the city came up to the crowd, and, recognizing the body as that of the dumb, half-crazed beggar, he took charge of it, and finally interred it.

As Corianton walked away with the mangled form of the once bold anti-Christ vividly pictured in his mind, he muttered half aloud—"This is one of the judgments of God—cruel, infinitely cruel! He above all others could have been generous and have pardoned him before his justice," and he fairly hissed the word, "had turned to cruelty!"

By this time he had reached his lodgings, one of the finest palaces in all that city, and strange enough, it was the home of one of the chief Zoramites who had been especially pleased, or at least feigned to be especially pleased, with Corianton, and had invited him to make his house his home. At the entrance to the walk leading up to the house, he was met by a woman, who asked if he was one of the Nephite prophets that had come to preach the doctrines of the Nephites to the Zoramites. Corianton answered that he was of that party. "And is your name Corianton?"

"Yes, that is my name."

"Then at last I have found you!"

CHAPTER SEVEN.

JOAN.

Was the woman who accosted Corianton at the gate of his lodging, young, beautiful? He could not tell; the twilight had deepened too much into the shadow of night, to permit him to see clearly; but there was a fascination in the full, sweet tones of her voice, and he was thrilled by the touch of her soft hand, as she laid it gently on his arm, as if to detain him while asking the questions with which the last chapter closed.