Above her hovered the shadow of grim, hidden, secret power.

No queen could have given more royally out of a bounteous store than Jane Withersteen gave her people, and likewise to those unfortunates whom her people hated.

She asked only the divine right of all women--freedom; to love and to live as her heart willed.

And yet prayer and her hope were vain.
"For years I've seen a storm clouding over her and the village of Cottonwoods," muttered Venters, as he strode on.

"Soon it'll burst.