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"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.

"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