As if to make his resolve harder she broke the silence. "You remember that day when we first met, my father offered me to you?"
He inclined his head.
"You said then, 'The women of my country choose their own husbands.' Would it make any difference if the woman offered herself to you?"
Ammon felt a sharp twinge of pain, but he steadied his voice. "No. You remember that I said afterward that a missionary cannot marry."
"That day, smarting with hurt pride, I determined that I would make you love me. Now, I wish I hadn't." They had reached the island and she hid her confusion in landing. The garden was one bouquet of fragrant posies. Their feet sank into long moss beneath, while festoons of Spanish moss draped above. Alia led the Nephite to a grotto, whence issued the sound of running water. The sanctuary was built around a gurgling spring. Dark and dismal, it was but illy lighted by the white moonlight that streamed in.
"These are the images of the gods of the Lamanites." She indicated huge figures carved in stone that lay about the place. "This is Tlalac, god of rain; yonder the goddess of grain." Stroking the most hideous idol she added, "This is Huitzil, god of war."
Ammon's eyes were fastened on a slender white cross reared in front of the last.
"That is the symbol of your religion, for I saw a little cross hanging around your neck. I have embraced your faith and I brought the new symbol here in their own temple to deride the fallen idols."
Ammon, deeply touched, took off his own chain and fastened the pendant crucifix around the neck of the girl. She reached up to thank him. For a moment he felt his head reel. Then very gently he took hold of her arms and pushed her away from him. As they stood thus the sound of a paddle fell on their startled ears. They both started back and then Ammon impulsively stepped out to the edge of the water. He saw Hebron, a noble who paid court to Alla, rowing alone on the lake. He hailed him. "The Princess Alla came here to show me the ancient idols. Will you not take her back."
Hebron, who was surprised to find the lady that he had missed earlier in the evening, came up with alacrity. If Ammon had a momentary flash of jealousy as he helped Alla in, it was soon dispelled, for she crouched down in the further end of the boat in a dejected heap, her poor little wreath of flowers drooping forlornly in her hair. Still as a statue he watched them speed across the lake. When they touched shore and the man arose to help her out, he turned away his eyes, for they were blinded with tears.