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                           The Redemption of
                               Freetown


                                  By
                        REV. CHARLES M. SHELDON

                    Author of "In His Steps," etc.


                            [Illustration]



                 United Society of Christian Endeavor
                          Boston and Chicago

       *       *       *       *       *




                           _Copyright, 1898_
                BY UNITED SOCIETY OF CHRISTIAN ENDEAVOR

       *       *       *       *       *




                               CONTENTS

                   CHAPTER                     PAGE

            INTRODUCTION                        5

  I.      --THE PROBLEM OF FREETOWN             7

  II.     --JUDGE VERNON'S TROUBLE             14

  III.    --HOWARD DOUGLASS'S PLAN             21

  IV.     --THE CARLTONS' TROUBLE              28

  V.      --CALLERS AT MR. DOUGLASS'S          35

  VI.     --SOME MOMENTOUS DECISIONS           42

  VII.    --THE FREETOWN SETTLEMENT STARTED    50

  VIII.   --FIFTEEN YEARS AFTER                57

       *       *       *       *       *




                         LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

  The Escape                                   12

  Claude Vernon's Return                       19

  "Have you heard the news?"                   26

  Inez Comes Home                              31

  Winifred and Isabel                          36

  "Will you live there yourself?"              44

  "Burke Williams's case has been called
   up to a higher court"                       51

  "As he reached the corner, he stopped
   and looked back"                            63

       *       *       *       *       *




INTRODUCTION


This little story was first read by me to my Young People's society
of Christian Endeavor in the Central Church, Topeka, Kan., during the
spring of 1898.

There is nothing impossible in the story, which is largely founded
on actual facts known to very many besides myself. What seems to be
miraculous or impossible in the redemption of humanity seems so because
too often the Christian disciple does not give himself for the solution
of the human problem.

This is the one great truth I have wished to impress by the telling of
this history, which is partly true, and might easily be wholly so; the
truth that it is God with us, Emmanuel, who is redeeming the world, and
it must be _ourselves_, the Christ in us, with the unredeemed humanity
near us, that must redeem it. The moment the churches, the Endeavor
societies, the Christian disciples everywhere, put themselves into any
unredeemed spot in any town or city or place, the miracle of redemption
will begin.

It is with the prayer that all who read this little story will give
something of this redeeming love to a needy world that the book is sent
out. There is the secret of the atonement in the three short words,
"Who gave _Himself_."

  CHARLES M. SHELDON.




CHAPTER I.

THE PROBLEM OF FREETOWN.


It was very still in the district courtroom. The jury had just brought
in a verdict of guilty, and the judge was about to pronounce the
sentence.

The room was filled with the usual crowd of spectators. The lawyers
occupied the space railed off from the raised seats at the rear
where the public was admitted. All whispers and noise on the part of
witnesses, attorneys, and court officers had ceased, and every eye was
on the man who had just been pronounced guilty.

"Prisoner at the bar," said Judge Vernon, leaning a little forward in
his chair until his arm rested on the desk in front of him, "have you
anything to say why sentence should not be pronounced upon you?"

The prisoner was a young negro not more than twenty years old. He had
been standing when the verdict of the jury was given. His hand rested
on the back of a chair, and he faced the judge with a look of stolid,
sullen defiance.

"I've got only this to say, judge. The shooting was accidental. If I'd
had a fair trial, I'd been let off. But everything's been against me
here."

There was a pause while the man passed the back of his hand over his
mouth and shifted his position nervously.

Judge Vernon waited a moment.

"Is that all you have to say?"

"That's all, unless--I think I ought to have another trial. I don't
count this fair, judge."

"You have been fully and fairly tried," replied the judge firmly.
Then, after a moment of silence, he continued: "Prisoner at the bar, I
sentence you to the penitentiary for twenty years. Bailiff, remove the
prisoner. Call the next case."

The prisoner made a movement as if he intended to utter a word, but his
lawyer behind him pulled him down into a seat; the bailiff came to the
little gate of the railing and beckoned to the prisoner, who was led
out. The machinery of the court went on, the next case was called, and
the usual stir of the courtroom rose again, in sharp contrast with the
moment's intense stillness that had just preceded.

The evening of that same day, as Judge Vernon sat down to dinner in his
residence up on the boulevard, his wife noticed an unusual seriousness
in his face. She did not speak of it at once, however.

"Where is Claude?" the judge asked, as his wife and two girls took
their places at the table. They all remained standing, for the judge
held to the custom which his father before him had observed, of waiting
until every member of his family was present before sitting down to the
table.

"He was invited out to a card-party at the Carltons'," said Mrs.
Vernon, slowly.

The judge frowned, but said nothing. They all sat down, and Mrs. Vernon
looked carefully across the table at her husband. It was then that she
spoke of his look of care, greater, it seemed to her, than usual.

"Have you had a trying day, John?" asked Mrs. Vernon, a little timidly.
She did not often venture to question her husband about his duties as
judge.

"Yes," Judge Vernon answered, almost curtly. Then he looked across
at his wife, and went on in a different tone. "The fact is, Eliza,
the condition of affairs out at Freetown is getting desperate. To-day
I sentenced one of the boys from that district to twenty years for
a shooting affray. That makes over fifteen criminal cases from that
neighborhood in two weeks. Crime and rowdyism of every description seem
to be on the increase there."

"Why don't you double up the sentences, father?" asked one of the
girls, a stylishly dressed young woman.

Judge Vernon looked at her, and smiled slightly.

"I'm afraid that doubling the sentences is not the cure for the crimes
committed. In fact, Isabel, I am afraid that the heavier the sentence,
the more the convicted criminals are regarded as heroes by their
companions and so regard themselves."

"There ought to be some law to prevent the dreadful state of things in
Freetown," said Winifred, the other girl, a little younger than her
sister. "Claude was telling me the other day that the hardest, worst
elements in the city are crowded into Freetown, and that it isn't safe
to walk through it after midnight. Just think of it! Right near the
best residence part of the city, too. I think there ought to be a law
compelling those folks to sell out to the white people!" continued
Winifred, whose ideas of law were somewhat vague and general.

"I'm afraid they are there to stay," said Judge Vernon, absently. He
seemed to be brooding over something, and even the light-minded Isabel
was afraid to interrupt her somewhat stern father when he looked that
way. He did not speak for some time, and then, as the girls were
talking over a theatre party to be formed for an evening of that week,
Judge Vernon suddenly asked again about his son.

"Has Claude finished that writing I gave him to do?" he asked his wife.

Mrs. Vernon looked down at the table, as she answered in a low voice,
"He has not touched it yet."

Judge Vernon looked angry. "Send him into the library when he comes
in," he said. He rose abruptly, and went into a little room adjoining
the library, used for a private reading-room by himself.

Isabel and Winifred looked at each other. The look said very plainly,
"I'm glad I'm not in Claude's place."

After supper Isabel went to the piano, and Winifred took up a book.
Mrs. Vernon sat down to some fancy-work. The evening passed on slowly.
It was an unusual thing for the girls to be at home. They found it very
stupid. At last they went up to their rooms, and Mrs. Vernon sat on by
her beautiful lamp, apparently deeply interested in her work. But she
was thinking of her son, and was not happy. Often she lifted her head
to listen while the fingers ceased to be busy, and as often she dropped
her head again and went on. The night was very still, and it seemed
impossible that events were rapidly shaping which would before morning
change the lives of more than one person in the city of Merton.

The prisoner had been taken at once from the courtroom to the county
jail. He had been put in the cage where a dozen other criminals were
confined. He had at once gone to a corner, and remained there in sullen
silence, refusing to talk with any one. The day had drawn to its close.
The lights in the corridors had been turned on, supper had been served,
and most of the men who had been walking about in the cage had gone
into their cells.

The jailer suddenly came down a short flight of stone steps that led
from the detention-room, and, unlocking the cage door, called out,
"Burke Williams!"

At first there was no answer. Then the figure of the negro rose and
came towards the door.

"What do you want?" the prisoner asked in a surly voice.

"Come out here!" called the jailer, roughly. "And keep a civil tongue.
You're wanted up in the detention-room. Quick, now! Move along!"

The prisoner came out, and the jailer locked the door, and, taking out
the keys, shoved the man along the short corridor towards the flight of
steps. The negro purposely delayed his going as much as possible.

"Move along!" cried the jailer. The prisoner pretended to stumble, and
the jailer roughly caught hold of his arm and pulled him forward. At
the same instant, as quick as lightning the prisoner seized the jailer,
and with the exercise of all his young strength threw him heavily upon
the floor. The jailer's head struck on the corner of the stone step,
and he lay there stunned.

With a rapidity that seemed impossible from his awkward movements
before, the prisoner snatched the keys where the jailer had let
them fall, and with one bound was up the stone steps and in the
detention-room. This opened from the jailer's office, and that had a
door opening directly on the street.

There was one man in the detention-office, and he had risen and was
near the door leading to the guard-room. The prisoner saw in an instant
that it was the attorney who had conducted his case. He had come to
have an interview with reference to some part of the case relating to
a motion for a new trial. In special cases prisoners were allowed to
confer with visitors in the detention-room.

The negro dashed through the room before the astonished attorney could
stop him. The jailer's door was locked, but from the bunch of keys the
prisoner chanced to choose the right one first. He thrust it into the
lock, turned the bolt just as the bewildered lawyer rushed upon him,
opened the door, shut it, and, bracing his excited strength upon it,
locked it again.

He was outdoors and for the moment free. He could hear the uproar from
within the jail as the assistant jailer and a companion rushed into
the office from the corridors where they had been busy clearing up the
prisoners' supper things.

[Illustration: THE ESCAPE.]

It was just at this moment that Judge Vernon sat down to dinner.




CHAPTER II.

JUDGE VERNON'S TROUBLE.


The escaped prisoner looked up and down the street an instant, and then
leaped across the short distance between the rock-pile yard and the
alley. A man on the other side of the street, attracted by the unusual
uproar in the jail, ran across just in time to see the figure of the
negro escaping up the alley. He disappeared in the dusk before the man
could determine which way he had turned when reaching the end of the
block.

The city lay about him in the gathering night. He knew that it would be
some time before the jail could be opened, as all the doors were now
locked and heavy bars closed every window. But the alarm would soon be
given to officers on the outside, and the pursuit would be swift and
thorough.

In his sullen rage he determined to seek refuge in his old haunts in
Freetown. The police would surely seek him there, but so they would
everywhere. Skulking close to buildings, dodging up alleys, seeking
every spot of darkest shadow, the man made his way rapidly toward the
district which had grown notorious in the criminal history of the city.
As he ran, his sinful heart beat alternately with anger at the justice
that pursued him, and with coarse joy at his temporary escape from it.

A little after ten o'clock Judge Vernon came into the sitting-room
where his wife still sat with her fancy-work. He walked back and forth
several times without saying a word. At last he stopped and sat down by
the table.

"Eliza, what shall we do about Claude? He is simply making a wreck of
his life the way he is living."

"I know it." The mother's fingers trembled as she rested them on the
work in her lap.

"It was only yesterday that I learned of his drinking at these parties
to which he goes so often. What are the fathers and mothers of Merton
thinking of, that they allow their boys to learn these habits in the
best society?" Judge Vernon spoke with a force that lost sight, for the
time, of the fact that he himself was one of the very fathers that he
so severely condemned.

"Do you think it is the best society, John?" asked Mrs. Vernon with a
boldness that was not a part of her character.

"No! And yet we say we belong to it. And we let our girls and Claude
frequent these entertainments night after night. Eliza, I cannot
endure it any longer. The thought of Claude's growing into the wild,
dissipated, society fast young man is a horror to me." Judge Vernon
paused, and then went on with an unusual agitation in his voice and
manner. "Eliza, I have not been able to shut out the picture, since I
heard of Claude's drinking, of his appearance in court, in _my_ court
some day, charged with some crime. That picture has haunted me all day.
While I was sentencing that colored man, I kept thinking, 'What is to
prevent Claude, my own son, from standing here some day, here or in
some court, charged with some crime while under the influence of drink,
just as the negro committed his crime while under the influence of
liquor?'"

"O John, don't talk so!" Mrs. Vernon let her work fall on the floor,
and her face was pale and her lips quivered nervously. She had never
known her husband to break out so forcibly from his habitual stern
repression of feeling, and it frightened her.

"It is simply what we must face sooner or later. Our girls--." The
judge crowded down a rising passion, and for a moment there was perfect
silence in the room. "Each of our girls one of these days will marry
one of these society young men, such men as I am free to confess I
never would choose for them."

Mrs. Vernon was silent. She was astonished at her husband's words.

"I see things in my court, Eliza, that convince me daily of the need of
a great transformation in the city of Merton in its social life. I am
simply appalled at the number of divorce cases. I cannot shut my eyes
to the fact that the fast life lived by so many of the young people is
utterly ruinous to soul and body. Hardly a case comes up that does not
illustrate in some form the terrible influence of drink and gambling,
much of it learned at the very parties where Claude is a frequent
guest, at the very party, no doubt, where he is now."

He rose and walked up and down the room again. Mrs. Vernon sat silent
and agitated.

"And I cannot help thinking of the people in Freetown. In the very
heart of our Christian (as we call it) city there is a condition of
lawlessness and impurity that very few realize. I see the results of it
daily in my court, and my heart grows sick as I feel my powerlessness.
Somehow--" Judge Vernon turned to his wife with a look and manner she
had never known in him before. "Eliza, somehow I cannot help connecting
the crime in Freetown, the dissipation and immorality in that district,
with the same thing in what we call our best society. Somehow I am
oppressed by the feeling that this city will suffer some great calamity
even in its best homes because we have allowed such evils to grow up
uncorrected in the right way. It seems to me sometimes as I sit in my
place on the bench, that a judgment is hanging over this city, so fair
in its outward appearance, yet so wrong in much of its human life."

John Vernon, judge of the district court, had been a man who all his
life gave the impression, even to the members of his own family, that
he was a stern, self-controlled person, whose emotions were held in
check with almost Puritan or Spartan coldness. His wife wondered in her
heart at the unusual exhibition of his feeling this evening. Finally
she asked, "The prisoner you sentenced to-day, John,--he is one of a
large class, do you think?"

"More than half the crime that is committed in the city comes from that
class of young men."

"And you sentenced him to twenty years' imprisonment?"

"Yes; it was a brutal shooting affair. The other negro was lamed for
life. Will probably lose an arm and foot."

"It is horrible, as you say. I do not see what we are coming to. But I
do not see what connection there can be between the condition of things
among the negroes in Freetown and that of the white people in the
society we know."

Judge Vernon did not answer at once. Then he said: "Crime and
immorality never can be confined to one spot in a city. They spread
like contagion. In fact, they spread worse than disease, for we can
restrain and shut in disease, but vice, until it becomes crime, may
go unchecked anywhere. There is a sure contamination from Freetown
spreading through the entire city, and I cannot escape the feeling that
the best families in the place are in danger. Our own, perhaps. And
really, Eliza, when you consider the superior training and advantages
of the white race, have we very much to boast of when our own young men
and women grow up to be drunkards and gamblers and unloving husbands
and wives?"

He had risen again, and was nervously walking up and down. The clock
struck the half-hour. The sound had only died away when the door-bell
rung.

The judge walked into the hall and opened the outer door.

"It's you, Mr. Douglass? Come in."

"It is late to make a call, judge," said a deep, strong voice. "But
I was just getting home from the meeting of the Christian Citizens'
League; and, seeing a light, I thought I would just stop a moment. Have
you heard the news from the jail?"

The Rev. Howard Douglass came into the hall, and Mrs. Vernon, who had
risen and gone out there, greeted him.

"No; what news?"

"The negro, Burke Williams, has escaped, and is now at liberty. He
assaulted the jailer, and succeeded in locking the door on the officers
in the jail. The police are hunting for him now."

Judge Vernon listened in a greater degree of excitement than he had
shown even during his conversation with his wife.

"Come in here, Mr. Douglass. If you can spare the time, I should like
to talk over matters in Freetown. We are waiting for Claude to come
home. This news of Williams adds to the thought I have been having
lately about the people in Freetown."

Howard Douglass hesitated.

"It is rather late. But I am specially interested in the conditions
over there. In fact, the matter of what to do with Freetown was the
main subject of discussion at our League meeting to-night. Something
ought to be done over there, or we shall have a heavy account to answer
for at last, when the deeds of the body are summed up for judgment.
The Christian people of Merton will be held largely responsible, I
believe, for failure to help Christianize that spot."

[Illustration: CLAUDE VERNON'S RETURN.]

"I begin to believe the same," replied Judge Vernon gravely.

He had paused thoughtfully with the evident purpose of going on to
propose some plan, when they were startled by the sound of many heavy
steps coming up the veranda walk.

Before the persons outside could ring the bell, Judge Vernon had flung
the door open. Mrs. Vernon and Douglass stood close behind him. Looking
out on the lighted veranda, they saw a group of men, among them two
police officers, and carried on some rude couch, in the midst of the
group, lay the form of a man covered with a blanket.

One of the officers addressed Judge Vernon.

"Judge, this is a hard piece of news to bring to you. In hunting for
Burke Williams we found your son Claude lying near the end of Free
Street, wounded and unconscious. That fiend Burke probably did it. He
is robbed."

Mrs. Vernon pressed through between her husband and all the others.

"Claude, my son! Is he dead?"

"No, ma'am," replied the officer as he took off his hat. But he added
in a lower tone as the terrified mother drew the blanket from the face
of her boy, "No, not yet."




CHAPTER III.

HOWARD DOUGLASS'S PLAN.


It was Sunday morning at Merton after an unusually exciting week. And,
as the Rev. Howard Douglass went into his pulpit, and thoughtfully
looked at the large congregation that crowded the church, his mind was
filled with one idea, and that idea was the redemption of Freetown.

He had just come from Judge Vernon's. He had prayed in the room where
Claude Vernon lay, his young life wavering on the border-land of that
other country, where death is forever shut out, but where judgment
still is potent; and with the memory of that still, white face the
minister faced his people.

He had been spending the entire week in gathering materials for his
sermon, and the escape of the prisoner from the jail, the assault
on Claude Vernon, the son of the judge, and the uncertainty of the
prisoner's whereabouts, together with the flickering life of the young
man, formed a natural climax to what the minister had prepared. It
had been a long time since a sermon in Merton had produced such a
sensation. Yet it was quietly delivered, was full of figures, and was
not sensational in the common use of that word.

"What have we ever done to redeem Freetown?" asked Howard Douglass,
after giving the people a look at the place, fortified by undisputed
facts as to its needs. "It lies in the midst of a Christian city
practically uncared for. It is cursed and feared and criticised for
the vice and crime that flow out of it. But how much have the Christian
people of this town ever done to check or remove the source of that
evil? How much money have we ever spent over there? How much time have
we ever given from our receptions and parties and entertainments to
teach Freetown the way to eternal life?

"I am unable to escape the burden of personal responsibility whenever
I pass through this place. I believe the Judge of all the earth will
condemn the Christian disciples of Merton in the last great day if they
do not give up their endless round of pleasure-seeking and waste of
God's wealth, and personally throw the strength of their lives into the
solution of this problem.

"How shall we redeem Freetown? It is not an impossibility. It is not a
vague dream of what may be. It is within the reach of actual facts. It
can be redeemed. The place can be saved, even as a soul by itself can
be saved by Jesus. But it is God's way to save men by means of other
men. He does not save by means of angels, or in any way apart from the
use of men as the means. What will you do to redeem Freetown? I have a
plan. I want you to listen to it."

He then rapidly sketched his plan. People all over the church leaned
forward and listened excitedly. Here and there heads nodded in assent,
but for the most part there was simply a fixed attention that did not
at once show that it had reached the minister's conclusions.

The sermon was over, the last hymn sung, the benediction pronounced,
and people were going out of the church.

As they went out, they were talking over the minister's plan for
redeeming Freetown.

"What do you think of it?" asked Deacon Culver of his neighbor, the
Hon. William Brooks. Mr. Brooks was one of the most talented lawyers in
Merton.

"I think it is largely visionary. Mr. Douglass is enthusiastic and of
an imaginative temperament. But he does not take everything into the
account. I doubt if he can make his plan work."

"At the same time something ought to be done, don't you think?" asked
the deacon, a little timidly, for he had a very great respect for his
neighbor's great legal attainments.

"O, no question about the need," replied Mr. Brooks somewhat
impatiently. "But whether what Mr. Douglass proposes will do anything
or not, is a question."

"Don't you think we ought to give it a trial, at least? It is better to
try something than let matters continue as they are at present. We are
none of us safe. What is to prevent your boy or mine from meeting the
same experience as Claude Vernon?"

"I hear that he was under the influence of liquor at the time he was
assaulted. It is said he walked home through Freetown to save time, but
that he would never have done it if he had been sober," said Mr. Brooks
in a low tone.

"I'm afraid it's true," replied Deacon Culver. "It looks a little as if
we white people needed some plan to redeem us, don't you think, Brooks?"

Mr. Brooks walked on for some time without answering. Then he turned
toward the deacon, and said impressively: "Deacon, our social life here
in Merton is in a dangerous condition. There is no use to hide the
fact that we are in a serious case. Something ought to be done. I was
talking with Judge Vernon last week, and to my great surprise I found
that he believed as I do. He did not say much, but his few words showed
plainly how deeply he felt about the matter."

The deacon sighed. He had reason to feel anxious over his own boy who
was just entering college.

The two men walked on in silence. At last the deacon said: "Mr.
Brooks, I shall give all I can to make Mr. Douglass's plan a success. I
believe he is right when he says the best way to make Merton right, our
own homes included, is to work for the redemption of Freetown. I never
felt before to-day how closely all the sins of the world are bound
together. I for one have done very little to make any part of the city
what it ought to be."

"If you say that, how much do you think I have ever done?" said Mr.
Brooks with a short laugh. "At the same time, I cannot feel as you do
about that plan. It is a remarkable plan in many ways, but I believe it
will fail. I am willing to give something toward it, but I doubt very
much if it ever amounts to anything."

The two men parted, and each went into his home thinking seriously. The
conversation was in one sense a good example of the way in which the
congregation had received the minister's plan. Some opposed it. Some
had no faith in it. Some were ready at once to give money to make the
plan a success. Others thought it would be a sheer waste of time and
expense. Still others, however, were so surprised at the proposed plan
that they confessed to a need of more time to think it over.

At Judge Vernon's that afternoon a remarkable scene was taking place.

Claude still lay in his room, his condition unchanged. Judge Vernon,
his wife, and the girls were in the next room. The doctor was talking
with the family.

"There is something mysterious about this assault on Claude," said the
doctor. "The wound on his head was evidently caused by a blow from
behind, but the contusion on his face might have been made by the blow
of a fist directly in front of him."

"The police officers seemed to think there was no doubt that Burke
Williams assaulted him," said Judge Vernon slowly.

"They may be mistaken. They sometimes are."

"Why, who else could have done it, doctor?" exclaimed Isabel excitedly.
"We all know the colored people have done just such things repeatedly.
They are simply awful. They ought to be punished. I for one believe
they were a good deal better off in slavery. It's where they belong."

"Isabel!" said Mr. Vernon.

"It's what I believe. The miserable creatures! Of what use are they?"

"I feel the same," cried Winifred. "I think every negro in Freetown
ought to be transported to Africa, so we could get Merton forever rid
of them. There's no question in my mind that this wretch Williams is
guilty; and, if Claude dies, he ought to be hung."

Suddenly the family was startled by a voice from the room where Claude
was lying.

"Mother!" he called.

The doctor stepped into the room, followed by the rest.

Claude still lay with his eyes closed. Mrs. Vernon went up and kneeled
by him. He feebly moved one of his hands. His mother took it, and,
bending her head over it, placed her lips upon it while her tears fell
fast.

"Do you know me, Claude?"

"Yes. Tell father and the rest--Burke Williams--Freetown--."

He seemed to choke for a word, and there was a moment of awful
stillness in the room. They waited, but he seemed unable to speak, and
lapsed into his previous condition of stupor, leaving them smitten into
wonder and praying that he might be spared.

"Do you think we had better rouse him, doctor?" the judge asked after a
while.

"It will do no harm. He was trying to tell us about the affair in
Freetown."

They tried to rouse him from his stupor, but failed. It was growing
late in the afternoon; and, as the sun went down, they all waited and
prayed.

[Illustration: "_Have you heard the news?_"]

The evening service at Emmanuel Church was over, and the Rev. Howard
Douglass was just going out of the church with his wife, talking with
a small group of church-members, as he went, about the plan to redeem
Freetown.

As they came out upon the steps, a man came walking up hastily.

"Have you heard the news?" he called out. "They have caught Burke
Williams. He was hiding in a barn up in Freetown."

The little company of church people stood still. The minister looked
grave.

"That is not all," said the man. "I just came by Judge Vernon's. His
son died a few minutes ago."

The Rev. Howard Douglass turned to the people around him.

"Let us go back into the church and pray," he said.

They turned and entered the building. The sexton had begun to put out
the lights. They kneeled in the rear of the church and prayed for the
living. And over the city of Merton, in the thought of Howard Douglass
as he kneeled there, the Spirit was brooding, yearning that men might
listen to the words of eternal life, and turn from their sins and be
redeemed.




CHAPTER IV.

THE CARLTONS' TROUBLE.


It was two weeks after Claude Vernon's death.

The Carlton house was lighted brilliantly, and a gay card-party was
in progress. The rooms were beautifully decorated with carnations.
Great vases of Niphetos and Perle roses stood on the marble mantels.
Festoons of costly vines were hung about the walls, and a fountain of
perfumed water played in the wide hall. A band of mandolin musicians
was stationed in a handsome alcove near the stairway. As one entered
this richly adorned mansion, everything pleased the eye, the young
people were laughing and jesting, the groups about the different
tables were animated groups of happy color; and, if there was another
world outside, of vice and sin and need, no hint of such a world was
suggested by the surroundings of this party of pleasure-seekers.

Yet there was a cloud on the face of the mistress of all this gayety.
Mrs. Carlton herself was evidently disturbed and unhappy. Even her
accustomed habit of self-control, that mask which society often compels
its slaves to wear, could not conceal her real feelings.

"What is the matter, Louise?" asked one of her friends, Mrs. Lynde, as
she stopped by the hostess near the staircase; "are you ill?"

"No, but I'm worried about Inez and her father. A telegram just came,
saying they would be here on the one-o'clock train. Of course I feel
badly about Claude and all that. It seems almost unfortunate that
the party should come so soon after, and all this other----. I feel a
little nervous about it; but of course I could not foresee events."

"Of course not. You owe something to society. This will be the event of
the season."

"Do you think so?" Mrs. Carlton spoke anxiously, but her face lighted
up with the selfish pleasure of a woman who has reached a point
where the one great object of her life is to win the distinction of
surpassing all other society leaders in social ways.

"There is no doubt of it. See if _The Sunday Caterer_ does not say so."
And Mrs. Lynde passed into the next room.

Mrs. Carlton looked pleased; and, as she mingled with the young people,
her face seemed to lose its anxious look.

But, when the last game had been played, the refreshments served, the
last guest had gone, and she was alone, she betrayed at once the unrest
and excitement she had been unable to conceal during a large part of
the evening.

It was half-past twelve, and she sat down in the hall reception-room,
and waited for her husband and daughter. As she sat there, her mind was
busy with thoughts that made her grow increasingly unhappy.

Her husband had been called abroad six months before, and had taken
their only child, Inez, with him. She was nineteen years old, and had
been studying art at home. When Claude Vernon died, Mrs. Carlton knew
that Inez and her father were about to sail for home. Her last letter
from them had come from Athens. Mrs. Carlton had not written the news
of the tragedy at Judge Vernon's because she knew it would not have
time to reach them before they sailed.

This was what troubled her now. It was possible that Inez and Mr.
Carlton might reach home in ignorance of Claude's death. Mrs. Carlton
suspected that before she went away Inez had come to have more than a
girl's fancy for Claude. How far her feelings had gone the mother did
not know. How severely the blow would fall on her daughter she was
unable to conjecture. But, as she looked around the elegant rooms,
heavily perfumed with the evening's adornment, she could not avoid a
feeling of dread at what the home-coming of the father and daughter
might mean. With it all was also more than a vague self-reproach that
this party had followed so close upon the death of Claude Vernon.

She rose and nervously turned out the light in one of the rooms, as if
to shut out the sight of the evening's gayety. She even carried several
vases of roses into the library, and removed from the hallway some of
the carnations that had stood there. As she came back and opened the
door, feeling oppressed by the air in the house, a carriage drove up,
and the travellers greeted her gayly as they came up the veranda steps.

With the first glance at her daughter, whose face she sought even
before that of her husband, Mrs. Carlton knew that she was still
ignorant of Claude's death.

"Why, mother, you have been having a gay time during our absence. 'When
the cat's away, the mice will play;' isn't that so, father?" cried
Inez, as she flung her arms about her mother, while Mr. Carlton said
something with a laugh, and kissed his wife as she turned to him from
her daughter's embrace.

"I've been having a little company to-night," Mrs. Carlton answered
slowly. "Just a few of our friends. It was such a disappointment that
you came just too late for it."

"Who has been here, mother?" asked Inez, as she put her arm about her
mother and playfully drew her into the dining-room.

[Illustration: INEZ COMES HOME.]

"Don't you and Frank want something to eat?" Mrs. Carlton desperately
fought against the inevitable disclosure that must come.

"Yes. I'm hungry. We rushed every minute of the way from New York.
Didn't even take time to read the papers. What's happened since we've
been away? But you have not told us who was here."

Inez, still talking, sat down at the table, and Mrs. Carlton ordered
one of the servants to bring in refreshments.

Mrs. Carlton murmured over the names of several people.

Her manner was so agitated that her daughter and husband both noticed
it.

"What's the matter, Louise? Are you ill?" asked her husband.

"No, but I'm very tired," exclaimed Mrs. Carlton. She was almost
hysterical in her nervousness as she saw no way of escaping the
dreadful news. The more she looked at Inez, the more she was struck
with a new look on the girl's face. It was the look a girl would carry
who had recently come to know what love is.

"Mother," Inez rattled on, "you have not given the whole list of those
who were here; was, was--Claude Vernon here?"

The girl looked at her mother with a blush on her face, and then
suddenly with an impulsive gesture she said, as she held her hand out
over the table: "Mother, I must tell you! Father knows. Claude asked me
a week before we sailed from Havre. We are engaged. We--."

She paused, seeing that in her mother's face which drove the color out
of her own. Mrs. Carlton sat there in miserable silence. She hoped
she might faint. She hoped for anything that would relieve her of the
horror of the occasion.

"Mother!" cried Inez, "what is it?" She ran around the table, and Mr.
Carlton at the same time came and supported his wife.

"O, it is too terrible! I cannot! I cannot tell it!"

"What! Is it Claude? Is anything the matter?" cried Inez, swiftly
imagining evil where she loved the most.

"Yes! Yes! O my God! O child! Claude is--."

"He is dead!" said Inez calmly, but in a strange voice.

Mrs. Carlton threw her arms about her daughter and sobbed hysterically.
When she finally recovered to realize what the news meant, Inez lay
unconscious in her mother's arms. She had fainted.

Mr. Carlton took her and laid her down, and telephoned for a doctor.
As he came back into the room, his wife flung her arms on the table,
weeping aloud. She was unmindful of the fact that one of her hands had
struck a vase of roses and upset it. The flowers lay across her arm,
and the vase lay in broken fragments across the table.

It was the morning after the party at the Carltons', and Rev. Howard
Douglass was talking with his wife about the subject which now absorbed
nearly all his thought.

"If we could only get the society people interested in the plan! O,
if we could only get the money that is used simply for parties and
entertainments, we could carry out the plan of redeeming Freetown with
every prospect of success."

He spoke anxiously, and his wife listened sympathetically.

"Now imagine," he continued, "a woman like Mrs. Carlton ready to throw
the weight of her social influence on the side of our attempt to uplift
and change Freetown. She is a leader in social circles. She has money
and friends and leisure and ability. And yet she spends her time and
strength in the regular round of parties and receptions year after
year. The money spent on her party last night might go a long way
toward building the foundation of our social-settlement hall."

"That's true," Mrs. Douglass said thoughtfully. Then after a pause she
went on. "Howard, somehow I have felt lately as if a change was to
come over that woman's life. Have you thought that Inez Carlton was
beginning to think a good deal of Claude Vernon before she went abroad?"

"No," replied Mr. Douglass, somewhat startled.

"I have. If the girl comes home to receive the news of his death, it
will change her life and her mother's possibly."

"I have never thought of such a thing. The woman seems wholly given
over to her social life. It seems to me like an awful waste of God's
time and money to spend them as she does all these years. If we could
in some way make her see the needs of Freetown! We need money and
influence to do what ought to be done over there."

He was still talking when the bell rung. He was near the stairs, on his
way to his morning's work in his study.

He opened the door, and a messenger handed him a note. It read as
follows:--

 "_My Dear Mr. Douglass_:--Mrs. Carlton and Inez would like to see you.
 Can you call at the house this morning? We are in trouble.

  Very truly yours,
  "FRANK L. CARLTON."

The minister handed the note to his wife without a word.

"Perhaps the Lord is leading her in some way of his own," she said, and
the words sounded in Howard Douglass's ears repeatedly as he hurried
toward the Carlton mansion, not knowing why he had been summoned there.




CHAPTER V.

CALLERS AT MR. DOUGLASS'S.


"Have you heard the strange news?" asked Isabel Vernon of her sister
Winifred several days after that night when Inez Carlton had fainted in
her mother's arms.

"No. Don't make me guess; tell me," replied Winifred languidly. She was
engaged in untying some knots in a skein of embroidery-silk. Isabel had
just come into the room. She looked strangely excited.

"Did you know that Claude was engaged to Inez while she was abroad?"

Winifred dropped her work on the floor. Her face trembled, and her
whole manner showed excitement.

"I knew he cared a good deal for her. But not that way."

"He did. I have been to see Inez. But that is not the strange news I
have to tell."

Isabel showed the marks of the recent death of Claude. She trembled
while she spoke, and her face was pale and drawn.

"Inez and her mother are going to help Mr. Douglass in his work in
Freetown!"

"What?"

"Inez told me so this morning. She--she wants us to help her."

There was a silence in the room. Winifred clasped her hands together,
and her lips trembled with inward passion.

[Illustration: WINIFRED AND ISABEL.]

"Does she know that Claude was probably killed by that--that awful
wretch in Freetown?"

"I don't know. I suppose she has heard. I could not talk with her. Mrs.
Carlton is not the same woman. It is all so horribly queer. I do not
understand it."

"What do they intend to do?" asked Winifred vaguely.

"O, I don't know. They are going to help Mr. Douglass build that
social-settlement hall he talks so much about. I don't like to think of
it."

"How did Inez look?" asked Winifred, after a little.

"O, I don't know. Don't ask me. The whole thing is dreadful."

"Do you think she cared very much for Claude?"

"What do _you_ think, when she is ready to work for the people that
caused his death?"

Winifred shuddered and Isabel was silent. Neither of them could think
or talk of Claude's death without a feeling of repulsion toward
everything connected with the work in Freetown.

That same evening Howard Douglass was going over the details of his
plan with his wife.

"Now that Mrs. Carlton has offered to help, we can begin at once on the
social-settlement hall."

"It is like a story. Who would have thought that Mrs. Carlton would
ever offer to do such a thing?"

Mr. Douglass thoughtfully spread some papers out over the table, and
then wrote something before he spoke.

"Yes, it is simply a miracle of changes in her case and that of Miss
Inez. Mrs. Carlton has offered to give two thousand dollars toward the
building. I have suggested that she use her influence to get other
society people in Merton to have a share in the work. In fact, the
redemption of Freetown ought to be a part of the whole city's life.
The work to be done is so large that no one church or person or
organization can do it. If we can only get the help of all the people
who have means, we can do wonders in Freetown."

There was silence again as the minister wrote. Presently he looked up
and said, "Do you want to hear the plan as I have it on paper?"

Before his wife could answer, the bell rung. The minister started to
say something about so many interruptions just when he was busiest. The
minister was a man, and therefore not quite perfect yet. His wife gave
him a look that seemed to remind him of something, and a smile broke
out over his face.

"Maybe it's angels unawares," she said, as he walked toward the door.

"Maybe it is, Mary. Don't you think their visits are very few and far
between?" said the minister. But he was good-natured as he opened the
door.

The sight of the people who stood outside startled him.

"We don't wonder that you are surprised," said Judge Vernon. "The fact
is, that we are a little surprised at ourselves. But we all seemed to
reach your door at the same time without knowing that the others were
coming; and, if I'm not mistaken, we have all come on the same errand."

"Come in," said the minister somewhat bewildered. And there came into
the house Judge Vernon, the Hon. William Brooks, Deacon Culver, and Mr.
Carlton.

When they had greeted Mrs. Douglass and were seated, Judge Vernon said
gravely, "I came to see Mr. Douglass about the work in Freetown."

"That is what I came for," said the other men in turn.

The minister looked bewildered yet. It was so seldom that anybody ever
came voluntarily to see him about doing anything of that sort that he
hardly knew what to say. The last men in the city that he expected to
see, with the exception of his deacon, were the three men who were now
in his house. Judge Vernon had never called on him. The Hon. William
Brooks was a shrewd politician and an able lawyer, but his connection
with the Emmanuel Church had never gone any further than attendance on
services and financial support. Mr. Carlton was almost a stranger, and
belonged to another denomination. So the Rev. Howard Douglass might be
excused if he looked and felt somewhat surprised.

But he was able to enjoy the unexpected co-operation of these men, and
in a few minutes they were all in the midst of a great discussion over
the minister's plan.

"In brief," the minister was saying at the close of an hour's talk,
"the plan includes:--

"1. A building constructed on purpose for the work we need to do. This
will cost anywhere from two thousand to three thousand dollars.

"2. This building must be equipped for kindergarten work. It must
contain a day-nursery for the babies of mothers who are obliged to go
away from home all day to labor, a kitchen where cooking can be taught,
bath-rooms, a reading-room, smaller rooms for classes in sewing or
music, a dispensary, an office, and a basement fitted for teaching
trades.

"3. The plan also includes a list of premiums or prizes given to the
people of Freetown to encourage neatness, thrift, and industry. These
prizes are to be offered for the best gardens, the finest individual
collection of vegetables, the neatest-looking front and back yard and
alley, the neatest interior of a house, the best flower-beds, the
largest and best fruit-garden, and the most improvements on any place
in a year.

"4. The plan also includes the establishment of regular Sunday work, a
Sunday school, preaching services, good music, and distribution of good
reading-matter at the houses during the afternoon.

"5. To make the plan succeed, we must have money enough to endow the
institution. It must be permanent in its character in order to produce
results. As much money must be put into it as is put into a business
of any sort where we expect to get large results. Over $50,000,000 are
invested in the bicycle industry in the United States. The redemption
of Freetown is of much more importance to the human race than all the
bicycles in the world. It is useless to expect to lift up the people
over there unless we can get and use large sums of money. I have
estimated that it will take from $2,000 to $3,000 a year to maintain
the work in Freetown on a successful basis.

"6. The last point in the plan is the most important."

The minister paused in his reading, and looked around at the three men.
They were all very much interested, and Judge Vernon and Mr. Carlton
seemed to be specially excited. Mr. Douglass went on.

"What is absolutely necessary to the success of this plan is the
voluntary residence in the heart of Freetown of some of the best men
and women in Merton. That is, the house must contain, all the year
around, Christian men and women who are willing to live for certain
weeks or months with the work, direct it from the centre, and give
their talents, their strength, their wisdom, personally to a solution
of the terrible problems over there. We can get money to build the
house; we can get premiums to carry out our plans for encouraging
industry; we can get enough money, probably, to endow the work.

"The question now is, Can we get _people_, the best and best-known,
and most able to go over there and live with the people? That, to my
mind, is the heart of the problem. When the Christian world is willing
to give itself to the redemption of the unchristian world, it will
be redeemed. When Christian Merton is willing to give itself for
unchristian Freetown, it will be redeemed. The question really is, How
many of the best men and women are ready to go and live for a while in
that house?

"Here in Merton are hundreds of men and women who spend night after
night in parties, amusing themselves; how many of them will take that
time to help redeem a part of the city? Here in Merton are scores
of able, capable men who spend hours in political discussions or in
attendance on political gatherings; how many of them will do anything
personally to help restore lost souls? Here in Merton are hundreds
of young people who have health and ambition and high aims; how many
of them will suffer personally to relieve suffering? What is needed
in this work is not a few weak, uneducated, unequipped good people,
but the best we have in the social and literary and political life of
Merton.

"There is no question in my mind that the success of the whole plan
will depend on the kind of people who are willing to go and live in the
social settlement and, by their living, personal presence, touch at
close quarters the sin and misery and crime of that lost part of our
city. The question is, Who will go?"

Mr. Carlton had not said a word since the first greeting. He now spoke
in a voice that showed great emotion. The rest leaned forward and
listened eagerly. Over them all the Spirit of God brooded in eager
expectation.




CHAPTER VI.

SOME MOMENTOUS DECISIONS.


"We are ready to live in the settlement house," said Mr. Carlton
slowly; "Mrs. Carlton, Inez, and myself."

His announcement was received by the others in perfect silence.

At last Judge Vernon spoke in a tone that revealed very strong emotion.
"It may not be possible for all of us to do as Mr. Carlton has decided.
Not all the people in Merton can become residents in Freetown. But I
came here to-night to say this: I will reside in the house a part of
the time and give my personal attention to whatever part of the work
over there I can help most."

Again there was silence. The Rev. Howard Douglass said afterward that
all during that evening's experience he felt so astonished at the
unexpected volunteers for the work that he was like one who sees things
in a dream.

The Hon. William Brooks had listened with head bent and a look of
strange hesitation on his face. He now lifted his head, and looked
directly at the minister.

"Mr. Douglass, the Sunday that you spoke about this plan for redeeming
Freetown I walked home with Deacon Culver here, and in a talk with him
I criticised the plan and expressed my doubts as to its success. I came
here to-night to offer my services to make your plan a success. You are
entirely right when you say that money alone cannot do this work. You
are right when you say that people must go and live there themselves."

He stopped suddenly, and the Rev. Howard Douglass returned his look,
while the color rose in each man's face.

"Will you live there yourself?" The minister asked it as if the other
man had compelled the question. Indeed, he said afterward that it
seemed absolutely necessary to make Mr. Brooks commit himself directly
on that point.

No one spoke for a moment. The stillness was deep and full of meaning.

"Yes, I will," said the voice of the lawyer at last. Probably he had
never spoken three words that cost more or meant more to a large number
of souls.

No one spoke again for a moment. There seemed to be a tension in every
man's mind, but a great hesitation to expel it with the spoken thought.
Deacon Culver said at last: "Mrs. Culver and I will do our part. I am
fully in sympathy with the pastor's plan."

"Mrs. Douglass and I have decided our course. We will make our home
for the time in the settlement. I need hardly say that we are deeply
moved by this unexpected beginning of the work. The Spirit of God has
certainly moved all your hearts. I have been guilty of questioning
God's power. What I have heard to-night shows me that nothing is too
hard for him." The minister's voice trembled; and, as he looked into
the faces of those men, he felt that the victory of good over evil was
possible. He saw already the redemption of Freetown a reality.

They sat long together, and talked over details of the plan. The longer
they counselled together, the more convinced they all felt that the
work they were about to do was a work of such tremendous power and
value that it could not be measured by money or mental effort.

[Illustration: _"Will you live there yourself?" the minister asked._]

During the conference it became evident that the same influences
had been moving those men to decide their relation to the social
settlement. The tragedy in Judge Vernon's home had affected him
profoundly. He read in the events which had led to his son's death the
lesson of personal responsibility for the redemption of Freetown. It
was learned long afterwards that Mr. and Mrs. Carlton and Inez had made
the complete change in their lives through the effect of that tragic
incident on Inez. No power of man could ever have wrought so complete
and astonishing a change. The divine Spirit had moved their hearts and
made them new creatures. The Hon. William Brooks had reasoned himself
to a logical acceptance of the minister's plan; and then, tired of the
indifference and selfishness of an observer of human wretchedness who
criticises others, he had suddenly determined to give himself, where
for so many years he had simply given his opinions. But although he
himself did not acknowledge it at the time, he also was led by the same
Spirit which can make proud men yield themselves and enter the Kingdom
as a little child.

During the next few days the city of Merton experienced a sensation
when it was told the news of that meeting at the house of the Rev.
Howard Douglass. There was nothing very remarkable in the fact that
Mr. Douglass and Deacon Culver had promised to go and live a part of
the time in the social settlement. But when it became known that Judge
Vernon, Mr. Carlton, and the Hon. William Brooks expected to work in
Freetown, and actually take up their residence a part of the time in
the house, everybody exclaimed in wonder.

Perhaps the best idea of the way in which the people of Merton regarded
the facts may be obtained from a conversation that occurred at one of
the society events of that winter.

It was in the house of Mrs. James Lewis, the wife of one of the
railroad officials. Mrs. Lewis was president of the United Clubs of
the women of Merton. Her influence in the city was second only to
that of Mrs. Carlton. The two women, each in her own circle, had been
leaders for many years. Mrs. Lewis was very literary, and had a talent
for organization. The United Clubs often gave a series of lectures by
well-known women speakers. Once every winter they met at the house of
Mrs. Lewis for a reception. It was this event that was the scene of
a spirited discussion over the news of Mr. Douglass's plan and its
unexpected volunteers.

"The plan is simply absurd," said the wife of one of the editors of
_The Daily News_. "It is one of those things that belong to dreams, but
have no place in practical life."

"But still, some of the best things in the world come from the people
who have visions. Do you remember what Mrs. Garnet said in her last
lecture? 'The ideal in life is always preceded by the visionary. Some
one must dream before any one will act.' There is a great truth at the
heart of that social settlement."

There was a pause for a moment in the room where the discussion was
going on. Before it was broken, Mrs. Lewis came to the door.

"Mrs. Lewis, what do you think of it?" asked the editor's wife.

"You are discussing Mr. Douglass's plan for redeeming Freetown? I
overheard a part of it. I'll tell you. He has been to see me about it.
Shall I tell what he asks us to do?"

"By all means!" exclaimed an excited chorus of voices.

"He wants the United Clubs of Merton to work for an endowment fund, so
that the social settlement will become a permanent institution."

There was silence a moment. The women looked expressively at one
another.

"That isn't what we are organized to do," finally said one of the
ladies.

"Wholly outside of our sphere. We are neither a charity nor a church
organization."

"It will break up our meetings for literary culture if we turn aside to
do benevolent work."

"But still," said another voice from a sweet-faced woman who had not
yet spoken, "still, isn't it a pity that we should get together so
often year after year simply to study the Greeks and Romans and the
arts and the sciences, and never study the city in which we live,
its needs, its condition, its degradation? It is possible we are not
studying the most important things of life in our clubs."

Mrs. Lewis looked at the speaker thoughtfully. "I have been thinking
of that also." Every one in the room looked surprised. Mrs. Lewis went
on: "We could raise a great deal of money in our clubs if we once
determined to share in this redemption of Freetown."

"We might change the name of our club to the United Missionary
Society," said a sarcastic voice. "I beg to be excused, ladies, if you
are going to take up Freetown and try to reform it."

"Look at Mrs. Carlton and Inez," said another. "Isn't that a seven
days' wonder?"

"No greater than Mr. Brooks or Judge Vernon. The judge must be made of
strange material."

"I was talking with Isabel--."

"But, ladies," cried Mrs. Lewis, "what do you think we ought to do
about the matter of helping Mr. Douglass?"

"What do _you_ think?"

"I am in favor of it. What have we ever done as a club for the real
uplift of the city where it needs the most help? We have a membership
in the United Clubs of nearly one thousand members. If each of us
gave one dollar, that would go a long way toward supporting the social
settlement for a year."

Again there was an expressive silence. There was assent on some faces,
disapproval on others. Mrs. Lewis was about to go on, when she was
suddenly called out of the room. The discussion continued after she
was gone. It grew more animated throughout the afternoon and evening.
The social settlement in Freetown became the one exciting theme of
conversation. There was one large element that seemed ready to go with
the president and pledge the United Clubs to the support of the work.
There was another decided group of women who refused to entertain the
idea of making such a radical change in the programme of regular club
life.

When the reception was over and every one had gone home, it was
entirely uncertain whether Mrs. Lewis would be able to use her
influence to persuade the United Clubs to take an active part in the
work of redeeming Freetown. Mrs. Lewis sat very thoughtful in her
house that evening. Several times she said to herself: "O, we might,
we ought. Surely we are not using our time and our strength to the
highest advantage." But, after all, she was unable to tell whether her
influence was strong enough to carry the majority of the clubs with her.

Meanwhile, the prisoner Burke Williams had been awaiting in the
county jail the carrying out of the sentence which condemned him to
the penitentiary for twenty years. According to the common law in the
case, he would be obliged to serve out the time for his first offence
before being tried for the second. But various plans had been tried to
surprise him into confessing the crime of Claude Vernon's murder, and
he was detained in the county jail beyond the regular time.

He was still in his cell, sullen and silent. The sheriff had at last
made his plans to convey the prisoner to the State prison on the day
when Judge Vernon was sitting in a case where another negro from
Freetown was under trial for a serious offence against the State.

Judge Vernon sat there pale and stern. His emotions were conflicting.
The man on trial again represented the lost part of the city, and
every time he looked at his stolid, brutal face the judge saw the face
of the other man, and pictured him on his way to his twenty years'
confinement. Could such a spot as Freetown be redeemed? Was it possible
to save such souls as these? The courtroom was crowded. The bailiff had
just arisen to proclaim the opening of court. Suddenly, near the door,
an unusual disturbance was noticeable. It grew in volume. All eyes were
turned in that direction. Judge Vernon half rose from his seat; and
the large audience, lawyers, officers, and spectators, seemed to feel
as by a united wave of intelligence that something very remarkable had
happened.




CHAPTER VII.

THE FREETOWN SETTLEMENT STARTED.


The confusion by the door of the courtroom increased. A word was passed
from lip to lip. Faces grew pale. The word went out over the waiting
spectators, and reached the bar and the county attorney.

The attorney rose, and, lifting his arm, he solemnly said, while the
confusion suddenly ceased: "Your honor, Burke Williams's case has been
called up to a higher court. He has committed suicide!"

Judge Vernon grasped the desk in front of him, and for a moment the
courtroom swam before him in confusion. He recovered himself, but the
excitement was so great and the tension on his emotions so strong
that he was compelled to adjourn the court for the day. As he passed
out of the room, the lawyers and spectators quietly made way for him.
His recent experiences had given him an added dignity that all men
respected.

The prisoner had hung himself to one of the bars of his cell. He had
left no confession. The mystery of Claude Vernon's death remained a
mystery so far as any actual proof was obtained, and the prisoner
himself had gone to meet the Judge of all the earth, to be judged for
the deeds done in the body. What that judgment is, only the last great
day can disclose.

The news of the suicide stirred the people of Merton deeply.

[Illustration: "_Burke Williams's case has been called up to a higher
court._"]

The whole affair, together with Howard Douglass's plan and its
reception by so many prominent people, called attention to Freetown as
it had never been called during the history of the city. For several
days it was the absorbing topic of conversation. People all over the
city discussed the situation. One of the most interesting discussions
was held by the Christian Endeavor society of the Emmanuel Church a
week after the suicide.

It was a regular business session, and after the reports had been
received, the president rose and said he wanted to present the case of
Freetown to the society.

"Mr. Douglass will be here before we finish, but it seemed to me it
would be a good thing if we could let him know something definite that
we can pledge to do to help the work. Some of us have been talking over
the work for several weeks, and I think we are ready to submit a line
of suggestions which the society can follow out if it thinks best."

"I make a motion," said one of the members who was a college student
and always wanted business to proceed in accordance with Cushing's
"Manual of Parliamentary Practice," "that we pledge ourselves as a
society to help in the work at Freetown in every way we can. We can
discuss plans in detail before passing the motion."

The motion was seconded by half a dozen eager voices.

"Now for suggestions," said the president.

The chairman of the Christian-citizenship committee rose.

"Our committee has held several meetings within the past month, and we
have agreed that we might do some good work in the settlement house by
having meetings to instruct the voters in Freetown along the line of
municipal politics. We could have classes in the history of political
movements, take up the city government, discuss the best plans for
electing the best men, etc. This plan has already been tried in
several social settlements with great success. Our committee pledges
itself to help in this way."

He sat down, and some one started a little applause. It swept through
the room, and ceased only when the chairman of the good-literature
committee rose.

"Our committee is ready to fit up the new reading-room in the social
settlement with magazines, papers, and books. Besides that, we
believe we can carry good papers to the different houses in Freetown,
and direct the reading by means of reading-circles, especially in
the winter. Our main object, however, will be to help make the new
reading-room attractive, and to serve as librarians or attendants
different evenings during the week, if Mr. Douglass says that is the
best way to serve."

"Any other suggestions?" asked the president, as no one spoke for a
moment.

The chairman of the lookout committee rose slowly. He was one of the
oldest members of the society and a good worker, but talking was hard
work for him.

"Several members of our committee think the cooking-classes in Freetown
are going to be very necessary. Referred to the other members of the
committee; the rest of them are girls."

He sat down amid applause. There were cries for one or two of the other
members of the committee.

"It's true!" said a tall, energetic-looking girl, as she rose and spoke
very decidedly. "It makes a great difference with the morals of people
what they eat. And some of us girls think the best thing we could do
to help in the social settlement will be to volunteer our services as
cooks in the housekeeping department, and teach the colored girls over
there the best ways, and help fit them for service. You needn't laugh,
because some of us _can_ cook. Our mothers have taught us how. And we
are ready to do our share."

She sat down amid a generous clapping of hands, and in the midst of it
Mr. Douglass walked in.

"I think we are ready to hear from the pastor now," said the president,
as Mr. Douglass sat down near him.

"No; go on, and let me know what you have been doing," said the
minister. He looked tired, but his face brightened as he looked over
the room and saw the faces of the young people. There was inspiration
in the life there.

The president gave an outline of the work suggested by the committees.
"It is only a beginning of what we can do, I'm sure," the president
said in conclusion; "but we want to be of use, and we are ready to
learn."

"Thank God!" cried Howard Douglass to himself softly, while his eyes
filled with tears. "'For Christ and the church.' Why, we can turn the
world out of the hand of evil into the arms of good if we only have
enough volunteer service like this."

He stayed a long time, talking over plans with the society; and, when
he finally walked home, he carried in his heart a great encouragement
that in the coming fight for souls in Freetown he had for helpers the
united, enthusiastic, whole-hearted service of his society.

The next few weeks saw the history of the new movement made very fast.

One of the daily papers of Merton volunteered to receive money for an
endowment fund, and even agreed to publish a series of articles on
social settlements, in order to awaken interest in the movement and
show that they were of practical value in the solution of great human
problems. This series was actually printed and eagerly read by the
subscribers. It was so popular that the editor followed it up with
another series on the proposed plan to redeem Freetown, accompanied by
sketches of the building, a description of its general plan, and a
detailed account of the premium list for the best houses and gardens in
the district.

The whole city became profoundly interested as the time drew near
for the completion of the settlement house and its occupation by the
volunteer residents. Perhaps no one event had ever stirred social
circles as this one. Mrs. Carlton's influence had been very large. So
far, her example in the way of financial help for the settlement had
not been imitated by any other society people. The winter had been a
very gay one. Even Claude Vernon's tragic death and Inez Carlton's sad
experience had not made any lasting impression on the pleasure-seekers
of Merton. Does an address at a funeral ever convert any one? It is a
question whether, out of all the social acquaintances that Inez had,
another girl was ready to give up her regular life of amusement to do
or to be anything different for the sake of helping suffering humanity.
They all wondered at Inez. She moved among them, quiet, reserved, the
dignity of a great sorrow suddenly acquired adding to the sweetness of
her character; but she was not like the Inez her once intimate friends
had known. Nothing develops deep character like sorrow, if the hand of
God is allowed to soothe and elevate it. And nothing is so selfish as
sorrow when God is shut out of a wounded heart.

There was, nevertheless, all through society a great feeling of real
curiosity to know how the Carltons, Judge Vernon, Mr. Brooks, and the
minister's family would manage the affairs of the social settlement,
and what the effects of their actual living there would be on the
people of Freetown.

In addition to this, the probable action of the United Clubs of the
women of Merton was still undecided. Would Mrs. Lewis be able to secure
the help of a majority of the clubs in assisting the financial side
of the work? It was a question. No one could answer it yet. Howard
Douglass, with a faith in future gifts for the work, went on with
the building. He had secured from various sources, notably from the
churches of Merton, enough money to warrant the care of the settlement
work for a year. What it needed, however, was a permanent endowment. If
Mrs. Lewis succeeded in enlisting the co-operation of all the clubs,
that endowment was practically assured. But when the building was
finally completed and ready for its residents, the United Clubs had not
yet decided their course.

Merton will never forget that day of the dedication of Freetown social
settlement. Freetown was stirred as by the hand of God. Howard Douglass
and his wife, Judge Vernon, the Carltons, Mr. Brooks, Mrs. Lewis, the
newspaper editors, the representative business men, the ministers of
the other churches, the leaders in social circles even, crowded into
the beautiful hall of the settlement that day.

Howard Douglass arose to offer the dedicatory prayer after the
preliminary exercises had passed. He prayed that the place where the
building now stood might be redeemed, brought back, saved for God.
Would his prayer be answered? Could Freetown be redeemed? The great
audience was swayed by one feeling, and through the room, as the prayer
went on, a breath of the divine Spirit swept, and all hearts present
felt its beneficent benediction.




CHAPTER VIII.

FIFTEEN YEARS AFTER.


  _Mr. Alfred Harris, member of the Associated Press Bureau, to
  Walter R. Stoddard, editor of The Boston Message_:--

  MERTON, FEB. 12, 1914.

"_My Dear Stoddard_:--I was sent here, as you know, to write up the
social settlement in Freetown; and I have done the best I could, and
am ready to start West to-morrow. But I feel tempted to let you know
something in this letter that I did not feel like putting into my
report.

"Merton is a city of about 50,000 people, a railroad centre, and a
place of good residence and business life.

"Fifteen years ago a district known as Freetown, settled by negroes,
had the reputation of being the source of more crime and social trouble
than any other part of the city. The son of one of the district court
judges was found one night unconscious, wounded, and robbed in this
district. It was supposed at the time that he was assaulted by a
criminal by the name of Williams, who committed suicide while in jail.
This was afterward proved to be false; as I shall speak of this later
on, I will not go into the details of it here.

"What I wanted to write about particularly was the personality of the
social-settlement work now finally established in Freetown.

"Rev. Howard Douglass and his church (the Emmanuel) proposed the
building of a house in Freetown where some of the most prominent
families in Merton agreed to live during all or part of the time, for
the express purpose of redeeming the place from sin and fitting it up
into a transformed human life.

"It is not exaggerating the facts to say that what was planned fifteen
years ago has been carried out with the most remarkable results. Let me
tell you a little about them.

"First, there was the building itself, built largely by the gifts of
Mrs. Carlton, who had been a social leader in Merton for many years.
Her original gift was three thousand dollars. She afterwards increased
it to five thousand. The building contained a large kindergarten and
assembly hall, a housekeeping department, a reading-room, a dispensary,
a nursery, bath-rooms, and rooms for sewing and industrial work, and
physical culture and music rooms. There have been some changes in the
original plan of the house, but it has remained practically the same
as when first built. I ought not to forget the rooms provided for
residents who take up their stay in the house on a co-operative plan
that has so far worked very satisfactorily.

"You will be interested to know something about the work done in this
house. The kindergarten has been, perhaps, the central force of the
establishment. Nothing has been so valuable in lasting results. A
volume might be written about it. No one in Merton any longer questions
the value of the kindergarten in the redemption of Freetown.

"The housekeeping department has resulted in the increased number of
faithful, competent cooks and servants who have been trained in the
house. It is the common rule now, so I was told, for the graduates
of the cooking and housekeeping classes in Freetown to be sought by
the best families in the city; and these servants have even set the
standard of prices for the best servants, and command higher wages
than any other girls in Merton who go out to service. If the social
settlement had not done anything else, it would be a great blessing to
the housekeepers of Merton. It has helped to solve a large part of the
servant-girl problem in this city.

"The children's nursery has been a wonderful blessing to the mothers of
Freetown. The mother who goes out to wash or work all day can leave her
baby at the settlement and go off, knowing it will be cared for even
better than the mother herself could do it. Formerly, many a child was
shut up in a cabin with other children only a little older, or turned
out into the street to play; and it was a wonder that more of them did
not die. As it was, many babies used to grow up miserably neglected,
and suffering was common and harmful.

"I did not mean to describe so particularly the details of the work
done by the settlement, but I have been so astonished by what I have
seen that I do not know where to stop when I once begin to write.

"I must mention one regular feature of the Freetown work; that is, the
premium list for physical improvement of the place.

"Premiums are offered every year for the best gardens, best-looking
yard, finest flower-beds, neatest interior of cabin, most fruit on a
place, most improvements during the season, etc.

"You would be astonished to see what has been done along this line.
Unsightly yards, dirty alleys, shiftless cabins, are a thing of the
past. One of the prettiest parts of Merton is Freetown. The parks in
front of the houses are arranged in original designs of flowers; the
yards are ablaze with roses; and shade-trees, fruit-trees, vines, and
lawns have so transformed the district that it is a favorite drive for
Merton people to pass through Freetown. All this may seem impossible,
but I believe you will see how it is within the reach of human effort
when I tell you a little more about how it has all been secured.

"In the first place, some of the most prominent people in Merton have
actually lived in this settlement house, and have given their time and
their strength and their brains to the actual redemption of the place.
For instance, there is Judge Vernon, whose son I mentioned. He has been
a resident a part of the time. It had been his custom once a year,
before the settlement house was built, to go off with two or three old
college classmates on a month's hunt or camping expedition. He has
frequently, in past years, given that amount of time to residence in
the settlement. He told me that his service there had proved as full of
recreation and stimulus as any of his previous vacations. He is a man
of great influence, and his example has been a wonderful one for other
men in Merton.

"By the way, I meant to tell you that it was found several years
after his son's death that the negro, Williams, who it was supposed
was the cause of it, was innocent. A confession made by one of Claude
Vernon's social acquaintances disclosed the fact that on the way home
that night he had quarrelled with another companion, while both were
under the influence of liquor, and blows were exchanged with fatal
results to Judge Vernon's son. His companion shielded himself behind
the bad reputation of the negro, and revealed the facts only on his own
death-bed.

"I mention this because it had a good deal to do with the change in
public opinion towards Freetown on the part of many families, notably
the judge's own. His married daughters, Isabel and Winifred, I have
met once or twice. They belong to the fashionable society here, and I
suppose have no great sympathy with the unusual interest taken by their
father in Freetown.

"The Carlton family is another remarkable help to the work done by the
settlement. Father, mother, and daughter have been for the most part
permanent residents. Miss Inez is a beautiful young woman of great
force of character. She has made her life-work the redemption of the
place. Mrs. Carlton has given much money to the work; but that is a
small thing by the side of her own personal attention to the work
itself. I was struck repeatedly with the unusual charm of her manner,
and wondered that a woman of such social distinction as she evidently
was had been willing to live in such surroundings. Her daughter also
impresses every one in the same way.

"Mr. Douglass, pastor of the Emmanuel Church, has, with his wife and
family, lived in the house a part of the time. He has been obliged
to work out the problem of the residence in connection with his own
church-work. His church heartily stood by him, notably his Christian
Endeavor society, which has furnished during these years some of
the best material in the city for residents. The young man who was
president of the society the year the settlement house was built is
now the head resident, and manages the business of the house when Mr.
Douglass is absent.

"One of the most helpful residents has been Mr. Brooks, a well-known
lawyer of Merton. He has given a large part of his time and money to
make the settlement powerful for good.

"Another important fact has made the redemption of Freetown possible.
The work has been well endowed. A short time after the dedication of
the house, Mrs. Lewis, president of the United Clubs of the women
of Merton, succeeded in gaining the co-operation of a majority of
the clubs to work for an endowment fund to place the settlement on a
firm basis. This work of the clubs has been very successful. Instead
of meeting for entertainments, receptions, parties, or ethical and
literary discussions, the women of fashion and social power have met to
work for a humanity that was in more need of being redeemed than they
themselves were of being improved in their minds, and the result has
justified the effort. Freetown settlement is permanent because it is on
a firm financial basis.

"I ought not to omit mention of the churches of Merton, which have
also, without regard to denomination, helped the settlement all these
years in many generous ways. In fact, nearly all the Sunday work there
is done by members of the different churches and Christian Endeavor
societies. This has been a wonderful aid to unite the denominations.

"The political aspect of Freetown has been completely transformed by
the political school started by the Christian-citizenship committees of
the Endeavor societies. This alone would prove of untold value to the
city.

"Fifteen years seems like a comparatively short time to redeem a place
such as Freetown was. But it is the personal life going into the heart
of the great need that has done it. Don't you think it is because
Christian people do not generally do their work on a large enough scale
that the results are so small? It is because so many prominent people
here, people of wealth and mental ability and social influence, have
been willing to give their lives to the redemption of Freetown that it
has been redeemed. I do not mean, of course, that everything is all
right in Freetown. But in a very true sense it has been redeemed. And
it is no miracle, unless we call love for lost souls a miracle. If you
are in doubt about all this, come out here and look for yourself. Mr.
Douglass has just called to take me over to see the exercises in the
kindergarten hall in honor of Lincoln's birthday.

  Very truly yours,
  "ALFRED HARRIS.

[Illustration: "_As he reached the corner, he stopped and looked
back._"]

An hour later Mr. Alfred Harris came out of the hall. He shook hands
with Mr. Douglass and the other residents, and started down the street.
It was his last day in Merton.

As he reached the corner, he stopped and looked back. The children came
out of the hall, and were standing about the minister and his wife.
Inez Carlton and her mother were standing on the steps just above the
group. The whole scene impressed the newspaper man profoundly.

An elderly man touched his arm.

"It's been worth while, don't you think?"

"O, it's you, Mr. Brooks. 'Worth while!' I should say so. Why cannot
the same thing be done in every city where the need is as great?"

"It can, if--" the lawyer paused thoughtfully.

"If--" said Mr. Alfred Harris, looking gravely at the lawyer.

"If the world will give itself to redeem itself."

He went on toward the settlement, and the other man went his way with
his head bent in reverie. Somehow he seemed to hear the words borne to
him from the settlement, "And the Word became flesh, and dwelt among
us."

Ah, yes! Shall the world ever be redeemed in any other way?

"And they shall call his name Emmanuel, which being interpreted is,
'_God with us_.'"


THE END.

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End of Project Gutenberg's The Redemption of Freetown, by Charles M. Sheldon