"In Almaville, which represents the South at its highest point of civilization, policemen have wantonly shot to death Negro after Negro for seeking to elude arrest.

"The following article which we reproduce from one of America's most reputable journals, will speak for itself.

"'How lightly the wanton killing of a Negro has come to be regarded in some Southern communities is brought out by an incident of the week at Memphis, which hardly needs comment. An inoffensive Negro was hawking chickens about the street, when ——, who was not in uniform at the time, jumped to the conclusion that the chickens had been stolen, and arrested the man. While he went to put on his uniform he left his prisoner in custody of a nearby grocer, rightly named ——, to whom he handed his pistol, with the offhand injunction, 'If he tries to get away from you, kill him.' ——'s assertion that the Negro made a break for liberty is disputed by the testimony of bystanders, but at all events he fired on the Negro, wounding him so severely that he died the next morning. 'Well, you got him, didn't you?' said —— on his return. 'If I didn't, I almost,' answered —— with a smile. The policeman's only statement in palliation of the unprovoked killing was that the deputy to whom he delegated his authority had 'taken his instructions literally.' The most shocking feature of the affair is that —— has not been arrested, and the policeman is apparently to continue on his beat. The 'Commercial-Appeal' may well exclaim in bitterness, 'Life in this community is cheap; the life of a Negro is so valueless that it is freely taken without fear of future punishment in this world.'

"The question may be asked as to whether there are provisions for redress against police outrages. There are courts and commissions that may be appealed to, but two considerations render these institutions of slight value to Negroes. In the first place the sentiment obtains that the evidence of a Negro is not to count as much as that of a white man. With this much the start the policeman has still another advantage. The policy of repression has fostered the idea that it is all right for a white man to commit perjury in cases where there is a contest between a white man and a Negro. Witness the manner in which election commissioners have often been chosen because of their known willingness to swear falsely as to the contents of ballot boxes.

"So, with little sentiment against perjury when a Negro is involved and the extra weight attached to the word of a white man as against that of a Negro, the wrongs of the Negro more often than otherwise go absolutely unavenged.

"Public utilities are likewise administered by white men who often maltreat Negroes. In Almaville a street car conductor was sentenced to two years in the penitentiary for the killing of an inoffensive Negro who was asking him for correct change and at whom, according to his own sworn statement, he shot 'to see him run.'

"In this same city a Negro woman was kicked off of a street car by the conductor for pulling through mistake the cord that registered fares instead of the one that signalled for the motorman to stop.

"For this same offense a Negro in Memphis was shot in the back four times and killed by the conductor, who was allowed to make his escape.

"Many good white people of the South will ask 'If this state of terror exists among our Negro population, how does it happen that it has not impressed itself more forcibly upon the public mind?' Largely because the affected people are voiceless and because they grow weary of invoking the aid of courts and commissions that somehow find their way clear to sustain the side holding membership in the race to which they belong. The Negroes, therefore, meet in groups and exchange accounts of outrages and bitterly sneer when they read in the white newspapers of the South accounts of the ideal relations of the two races.

"The claim of some of the white people of the South that the Negro needs no power in his own hands to insure a proper regard for his interests ought not to be tolerated for a moment in view of all that has happened since the whites have had exclusive charge of the southern governments.

"It has long been a contention of the Anglo-Saxon race that the people should retain power to protect themselves against possible indifference, incompetence or outright meanness on the part of public officials, and if Anglo-Saxons refuse to commit their welfare unreservedly into the hands of fellow Anglo-Saxons, it seems clear that it is placing too great a strain upon human nature to expect ideal results when an alien race is involved. Not only does repression bear such fruit as we have indicated, but it also bears heavily upon the repressed in other directions.

"All history shows that a race stands in need of great men, in need of the contributions of their superior powers, and the inspiration that their names will carry from generation to generation.

"Grappling with the affairs of state affords unique opportunities for growth, while the honor of having served the state operates as a magnifying glass enlarging the inspirational force of individuals so honored. Thus a race having the privilege of committing great trusts to its members draws as a dividend men of enlarged powers and names which will inspire. These influences reapplied to the needs of the state serve mightily to pull the people forward.

"Again, to fix a limit to the development of a race is to run counter to the forces of evolution which are indisposed to recognize barriers of any kind. The human mind revolts at a 'ne plus ultra.' The Great Unknown has hid himself in the heart of things, and yet the fainting soul of man lingers forever at the barred door of His palace in a sort of rebellious worship, determined to learn of Deity even the forbidden things.

"The human mind is yet human when encased in a Negro body and if this mind chafes at limitations seemingly imposed by eternal forces, it will not submit to limitations arranged by finite creatures.

"We have no doubt arrived at the point in this discussion where it is in order to suggest a remedy for these ills. The offerings of the humane class of Southern white people who would like to settle the whole question upon the basis of the development of the Negro race along restricted lines, must, because of the danger that lurks in the principle of repression, be rejected as totally inadequate. Above all things, the government must go out of the business of repression, must cease tagging the Negro as an outcast among his fellows. The men who administer affairs must be made amenable to the sentiment of the whole body politic and not simply that portion represented by the white citizenship.

"One says: 'The nation felt all this and granted to the Negroes political power.' Explain to us those largely writ words 'Reconstruction Governments.'

"Right gladly do we respond to the task assigned.

"One whom the nation knows as perhaps the foremost living Southerner, who has acquired the art of speaking upon this whole matter in a way that seems to beget at least a respectful hearing everywhere, says: 'Few reasonable men now charge the Negroes at large with more than ignorance and an invincible faculty for being worked on.'

"To this we make reply, the overturning of slavery in the South was revolutionary and not evolutionary. There was no spiritual cataclysm to correspond with the political one. He who on one day ruled over the Negro was found spiritually unprepared to rule with him on the succeeding day.

"When, therefore, the Negroes were approached by two sets of men, the one set, composed of the former ruling class of the South, equipped morally and intellectually for good government, but wrong at heart upon the great question of human rights, the other composed largely of carpet baggers, scalawags and bad administrators, but true to the principle of equality before the law, it ought not to be surprising that a race fresh from the galling yoke of slavery should choose the set that would look after their liberties.

"This, we feel, fully explains the ills of reconstruction, and those that lament that they were thrust aside from leadership, should further lament that they were evidently not far enough away from the ruling of a race by a race to have charge of the momentous experiment of the joint rulership of races. The real blame for the unfortunate state of affairs falls, perhaps, upon those crushers of free speech in the South who, prior to the Civil War, allowed not the preaching of the doctrine of human rights which would have furnished men of the right temper and proper vision to take charge of the new order of things.

"But we gained much from those times that must not be lost sight of. We gained our racial awakening, the upward impulse. This was a supreme need of our country. For, what pen can set forth what would have been the outcome of a festering carcass of a dead race within our borders.

"The ballot put into the hands of the gloom enshrouded Negro sent a thrill of hope into his very bone and marrow, and the sense of responsibility and the beckoning of the high destiny of citizenship in a great republic begot such a fever of progress in the race that the problem is now that of dealing with the aspirations of the race rather than the more awful problem of trying to avoid the contaminating odor of a race dead to higher appeals, sinking and pulling the nation with it.

"And finally upon the question of reconstruction we find that perpetual disbarment is not visited upon the people of the mightiest city of the new world, because it has from time to time made mistakes and put bad men to the fore.

"Moreover, be it remembered that the Negro of to-day is not restricted to the choice of yesterday. Good men and true abound in both races in the South, who are now fully equipped to operate a truly democratic government.

"People of America: We were wrested by you from the savage wilds and thrown into your mould. Our bodies have been fitted to your climes, our spirits have been put in tune with yours. We love your institutions, and if your flag could speak, it would tell you that it has no fear of the dust when entrusted to our sable hands.

"The great burdens of your future need the cheer that we can bring, and your labors in the tropics now dimly foreshadowed, may put a premium on what we can yield. By the token of our patriotism and in sight of our willingness to yield all the blood or brawn or brain necessary for the advancement of our common country, we simply beg that you cast not away your ideals, that you do not unsettle the foundations of your democracy when you come to deal with us.

"Grant unto us equality of citizenship. Fix your standard for a man! If you choose, plant the foot of the ladder in a fiery test and engirdle each round with a forest of thorns. Do this and more, if your civilization and the highest needs of the unborn world require it. But when, through the fire and up the path of thorns, we climb where others climb, hurl us not back because of a color given us from above. Let one test be unto all men. Let the strong arm of the nation for its own good and for the ultimate good of humanity insist upon the observance of this principle wherever Old Glory floats. Let this be the guiding star of your policy toward us. This grave question settled, the vast army of Negro leaders absorbed in the momentous work of adjusting this external problem, will be free to turn undivided attention to the curing of those ills that are gnawing at the vitals of the race.

"Those most interested in the internal development of the race can render the cause so dear to their hearts no greater service than by facilitating the adjustment of the outer relation.

"The campaign, then, is one that concerns not only the political forces of the nation, but the moral forces as well, since the pressing of this great wrong upon the hearts of an inoffensive, patient and aspiring people tends to their moral undoing, not only by the evil passions engendered, but also, as has been pointed out, by the withdrawing of so much of the attention of the race from internal development to the absorbing, exacting and, in some respects, narrowing task of battling against an alien aggression.

"From the depths of our dark night we cry unto you to save us from the oppression inherent in the present situation and clear the way for our higher aspirations.

"In behalf of the Negroes of the United States of America,

"ENSAL ELLWOOD."

Ensal finished the document, folded it carefully and laid it upon his desk.

"Now Earl," he said, "let us print millions of this address and see to it that a copy thereof gets into every American home. Furthermore, let us see to it that it is translated into the various languages of the civilized world that the whole thought of the human race may be influenced in our direction. Earl, our cause is just and we must learn to plead it acceptably. That is our problem. Eschew your plan and join hands with me."

Earl was silent for a few moments and then said:

"This is all very good, Ensal, but it needs a supplement. Charles Sumner's oratory and Mrs. Stowe's affecting portraiture of poor old Uncle Tom were not sufficient of themselves to move the nation. There had to be a John Brown and a Harper's Ferry. Preserve that paper and send it forth. The blood of Earl Bluefield and his followers shed upon the hill crowning Almaville will serve as an exclamation point to what you have said in that paper," was Earl's comment.

Earl now arose to go. Ensal stood up facing him.

"Ensal, clasp my hand in farewell," said Earl feelingly.

"Earl, knowing the mission upon which you go to-night, criminal in its utter folly, I would not for my life put my hand in yours," responded Ensal.

A flush of anger overspread Earl's face, his lip quivered and he was upon the eve of uttering some biting remark. He suppressed his anger, however, and departed, determined upon making his offering of blood. True American that he was, Ensal was determined that the offering should be the output of brains, rather than of veins.



CHAPTER XXIII.

They Grapple.

Almaville is asleep, watched by the quiet moon, now about to disappear, and the far off silent stars.

Upon the bridge from which hundreds had seen little Henry Crump driven to his death; where the majesty of the law had been trampled under foot in the murder and mutilation of Dave Harper—upon this bridge now stood Ensal awaiting the coming of Earl who had to pass that way to reach the place of rendezvous agreed upon by himself and followers.

At about one o'clock Ensal, standing in the shadow of the framework of the bridge, saw Earl walking rapidly in his direction. As the latter was about to pass, Ensal laid a hand firmly upon his shoulder.

Earl looked around quickly to learn the meaning of the firm grasp and recognized him. There was a look of determination in Ensal's eye that caused Earl to feel that important developments were sure to follow.

"Earl, my friend, you shall not commit this blunder," said Ensal.

"Blood must be shed at some time and it might as well be shed now as at any other time," said Earl, staring Ensal in the face as though he might have reference to his (Ensal's) blood.

Ensal's grasp tightened, and he said, "I tell you frankly, Earl, you will have to disable me before you get to that crowd to-night."

"Turn me loose," said Earl, in a quiet, determined, yet kindly tone. "Ensal, you and I have been friends all of our lives. We sat in school together and hunted birds' nests in the woods side by side. I have sought your counsel from time to time and you have served as a check to me in many instances. But my mind is fully made up now, and it will not pay for even such a friend as you are to stand in my way. I warn you, beware!"

Ensal decided that it was time to act. He quickly pinioned Earl and backed him up against the iron railing. He had just heard the city clock strike one and felt that he could hold Earl in his grasp for one hour, at which time a policeman would come along, whereupon he could deliver Earl over to the officer. With Earl out of the way he felt that he could get around and dissipate the forces that he had organized.

Earl remembered that in Ensal's earlier days, he had suffered a fracture of his left arm, and in his struggling Earl now weighed heavily on that arm which began to weaken. Ensal soon saw that he was not going to be able to pinion Earl for the hour to intervene before the coming of the officer. So deciding, he concluded to stake all on a fall. He felt that if he could get Earl down and get the famous neck hold, which they had practiced so much in their youth, he could succeed in holding him in that way.

To and fro the two men swayed, each man feeling that the welfare of millions depended upon the outcome of this duel of the muscles.

At last Ensal gained an advantage and Earl was thrown. Earl pretended to be making violent efforts to hurl Ensal off of himself, but this was merely a feint. By skillful maneuvering unknown to Ensal he got hold of his pistol and sought to so aim it that he could shoot Ensal through the heart. Concluding that he now had the pistol at the right angle, he pulled the trigger. The trembling condition of his hand could not insure a steady aim and the pistol falling down sent the bullet crashing into his own side. Ensal leaped up, but Earl lay motionless upon the bridge.

It was now only a few moments before the policeman was due at that point and Ensal was in a quandary as to what to do. He was not long in doubt, however. Lifting the wounded man, he half dragged and half carried him to one end of the bridge where there were steps leading down to the river. He disappeared down the steps and hid under the bridge just in time to escape the eyes of the officer.



Ensal did what he could to staunch the flow of blood. He then tried to think. He did not care to expose Earl to the fury of a white mob by revealing the conspiracy. He preferred to heal the racial sore himself without calling a doctor, whose remedy might be worse than the disease. But if he kept Earl's illness secret and Earl died, he was himself liable to be arrested on the charge of murder. He concluded, however, to take the risk of handling the matter himself. He would have Earl nursed back to health and then demand that he leave Almaville on the ground that he was an unsafe leader for the people under existing conditions. He now felt the need of a confederate and his mind ran to Tiara, who was yet living in practical seclusion.

"By the way," said he to himself, "she lives near the river."

Taking possession of a boat which he found moored near by, Ensal put Earl into it and rowed until he was opposite Tiara's house. After considerable effort he succeeded in arousing the inmates.

Tiara attired herself and came out upon the back porch and listened to Ensal's story. She dared not look him in the face too often. Her eyes told too plainly of her suppressed love.

As humble as was Ensal's opinion of himself he was compelled to admit that the net result of this short interview was a decided conviction that Tiara was not altogether indifferent to him, that he held no mean place in her regard. But he was the more mystified as to why she had so persistently refused to allow him to call.

But all this is aside. Tiara accepted charge of Earl and in her faithful hands we leave him for the present.



CHAPTER XXIV.

Out of Joint With His Times.

"Jedge, I'd lack to mek' er few dimes. Ken I peddle limonade nigh de co't 'ouse do', sah, yer honah?"

The judge looked with a kindly eye upon the rather small, aged Negro, who made the above request. The look of the man was so appealing and his voice so sad of tone that the judge was moved to grant the request.

"Thank 'ee, jedge, thank 'ee," said the Negro, bowing low, his face and whole frame testifying to his immense joy at being allowed to sell lemonade at the court house door.

"His family must be starving," thought the judge, as he resumed his walk to the court house, haunted by the pleading look in the Negro's eye.

"He asked for that insignificant favor with as much soul as a man could put in a plea for his life," mused the judge, as he continued to think of that haunting look.

"That Negro would hardly tell me, but I would like to know what dark cloud it is that so patently casts its shadow over him," thought the judge, turning to cast a look in the Negro's direction. The Negro saw him turn and greeted him with another profound bow and humble laying off of his hands.

The judge entered the court room, which was now crowded with people from far and near. That day was to be a great day with them. The lynchers of Bud and Foresta were to be tried, but that was not what excited their interest.

The Congressman from the district in which Maulville was located had just died, and his successor was soon to be chosen. There was but little free discussion of political matters in that district, the white population generally rendering unswerving allegiance to the Democratic party, while the Negroes were equally as ardent in the support of the Republican party, each race claiming that so far as it was concerned the exigencies of the situation permitted no other course. In the absence of a political arena in which young statesmen might display their prowess, the court house became the nursery of statesmen in the South.

Thither then the people were flocking to-day, ostensibly to witness the trial of the slayers of Bud and Foresta, but in reality to pass final judgment upon the claims of the young prosecuting attorney who had announced himself a candidate to succeed the deceased Congressman. The ability of the young man was unquestioned and his exposition of the fundamental principles of the Democratic party was all that could be desired, they felt, but they wanted to hear him on the one question that was the final test of his acceptability, his attitude on the race question.

The court assembled and the crowds poured in. The prosecuting attorney, H. Clay Maul, son of Gen. Maul, after whom the town was named, arrived early and took his seat, his earnest face wearing the look of a determined man sure of his course. Well did he know how much was involved for himself personally in what was to transpire that day, but he had vowed on the previous night, which he had spent at his mother's grave, that he would do his duty regardless of its effect upon his own future.

The first case to be called was that of the man designated by the mob to apply the torch. The chief concern of the defense was in the matter of securing a jury. They expected the judge to do his duty, and the prosecuting attorney to put forth his best efforts to convict. But their reliance was in a jury in whom the race instinct would triumph over every other consideration and cause it to bring in a verdict of not guilty.

It was at last young Maul's time to speak and he arose, slightly nervous. He hesitated an instant before beginning. All the hopes of his deceased father concerning him, all the dreams of his boyhood, all the blandishments of fame and power came surging to his mind and his Ego said, "Spare thyself. Thy sacrifice will be in vain."

Overcome by conflicting emotions that gathered in his bosom at this moment, he waved his hand to the audience as if to say, "Wait," and sat down. His eyes were directed to the floor and his hand still outstretched to the audience, giving the people to understand that he was yet to be heard from.

Every eye in the room was now upon him, and all were conscious that a supreme struggle was going on in his bosom. At last he stood up, a smile of triumph upon his face. And thus it was that a son of the New South came into his spiritual inheritance.

The audience was more eager now than ever to hear every word of the forthcoming speech, and as it forever fixed the status of the young man with his fellows, we give enough of it to our readers to warrant them in passing judgment on the judgment of the people of Maulville, Miss. Said he:

"Upon an occasion such as this, in order that we may the better get our bearings, it might pertinently be asked as to why, in the evolution of things, you, honorable Judge, you, esteemed gentlemen of the jury, and myself, your humble servant, are here to-day addressing our attention to a crime which was in no wise directed against us personally.

"We are here to take care of the interests of society, to guard it against the influence of a savage deed whose foul breath blown upon our civilization threatens it with utter decay. Availing myself of the latitude accorded one in your court, honored Judge, I shall seek to point out all the involvements in the case which we have before us.

"God has given unto us, or, to be more exact, has permitted us to wrest from the Indian and from creeping snake and prowling beast, a goodly land. Here we raise a product that supplies a need of the world that cannot be so acceptably filled up to the present time by any other quarter of the globe.

"The world at large, therefore, has a vital material interest in the manner in which we conduct ourselves on this spot. We have in our midst Negroes who have a superior adaptation to the labor of the fields, and it is to our interest and to the interests of mankind generally, that they be treated properly, as in their humble way they do this their share of the world's work.

"Crown Murder king here to-day, if you will, and his bloody sceptre waved over our fields will drive the Negroes therefrom, keep us poor, and sadly disturb economic conditions in the most remote corners of the earth. The material interests of civilization at large, therefore, appeal to you for the administration of justice in our part of the world.

"But civilization has even higher interests involved. We must bear in mind that these are no longer days of isolation, that the deeds of Maulville have been canvassed throughout the earth. Man has been battling upward through the ages, and his savage instincts have sought to mount the ladder with him as he climbed. It has been one of the hardest of man's battles to leave behind him these depraved parts of his nature, and evidence that you carry your savagery with you will make the battle harder for the whole of the human family. And so the moral health of the world demands that every community have a pest house where the isolation and treatment of the morally diseased may forestall an epidemic.

"Coming nearer home, I would call your attention to our sister states to the north of us. These states are bound up with us in a political system. Destiny has made us one people, and by the outside world we must be reckoned with as a unit. Under these circumstances, the thought must unavoidably develop that that for which all are to be held responsible must, when the need arises, be made the subject of inquiry and action on the part of all.

"For the honor, then, of the other members of our political compact who form a part of our shield against the outside world, and to enable them in view of the attached responsibility, to accord, with a clear conscience, full deference to our claim to the right of local self-government, it is incumbent upon us to act worthily here.

"Gentlemen, our own larger interests are involved in this matter. It is our privilege, and our duty as well, to contribute our best heart and brain to the care of the interests of our nation and to the guidance of the world. But if our statesmen walk through the halls of Congress emitting from their garments the scent of burning human flesh, when they would put forth their souls as great magnets for mankind, the tender, sensitive world-heart will recede from their touch, and leave their hollow, resounding voices reverberating through space. Thus shall we lose our share of great world leaders.

"Gentlemen, the lives of white men will be placed in jeopardy by a miscarriage of justice here to-day. The jury that refused first to hang a white man for killing a Negro, seared its conscience, lowered its estimate of the value of human life, and now, without due process of law, the white man who kills any one is almost uniformly exempt from the death penalty. The maltreatment of Negroes according to immutable laws precedes but by one day the like maltreatment of whites.

"Need I to tell you of the patient dark faces that sit in their humble cabins to-day and quietly await your verdict which will make their lives secure, or subject to the caprice of the man with murderous instinct.

"Gentlemen of the jury, remember that the interests of your children are involved in this case. The capital on which they are to begin life is necessarily that which they draw from your social manifestations. They saw that holiday crowd that gathered here on the day of the burning and some of those hot human ashes fell in their innocent faces. What happened here that day will be talked over by them in their childish sports. Let us give to them a fitting conclusion to the recital. We have made it possible for them to say that the deed was done. Let us avoid contributing to their hardness of heart, by causing them to say that the deed was spurned.

"Having at length put before you the claims of society whose mouthpiece I am this day, I am now ready to deal more specifically with the case before us.

"I have no hesitancy in asserting that the evidence before you, gentlemen, is of a sufficient character to justify the conviction of the defendant. The case is so plain that it seems like arguing an axiom to discuss it. I will not impugn the intelligence of this jury by a review of the evidence in so plain a case. But knowing the deadening miasma of race prejudice that hangs over, envelops and stifles us so often, I shall dwell briefly upon the nature of the crime committed by the defendant.

"A Negro, acting upon that instinct of self-preservation that ramifies all nature, shot down his would-be murderer, no other course save the surrender of his life being open to him. Have we gone back to the days of the cannibal kings, when it was deemed a virtue for a subject to lay down his life to satisfy a whim of his master? Have we, the proud Anglo-Saxon race, fallen so low that we are to ask that the Negro meekly lay down in our pathway, while we enjoy the pleasant sport of boring holes through his body? If this is not what we mean, how do you account for that writhing form, the form of that Negro, whose only offense was that he sought to preserve from the violence of man a life granted unto him by his Maker?

"And now I come to the crowning horror of the ages. Our poets have sung in loftiest strains of the devotion of woman.

"A Negro wife, true to that impulse of the woman's heart that has made this old world worth living in, that has taught men that the fireside is worth dying for, that impulse—devotion to a loved one in distress, led that girl to journey by her husband's side through bog and swamp, bearing up bravely under the scorching heat of the sun and wilting not in the dead of night amid the gloom of the beast infested forest.

"Ah! gentlemen, that girl deserved better of us than what we gave her. And I declare unto you that as the ages roll by, the people of the earth are going to make of those cruel flames that wrapped themselves about her nude body a fiery chariot of glory to carry the blessed memory of her devotion from age to age.



"Such will be the verdict of the future; but, gentlemen of the jury, you are this moment the mouthpiece of your age and we are concerned about your verdict.

"Gentlemen of the jury, the evidence in this case, the revolting nature of the crime and every consideration of society demands a verdict of guilty. We have reached the apex of infamy in the crime which lies unavenged at our doors.

"Let us retrace our steps beginning here to-day. Seeing whither our present policy as a people toward the Negro has led us, let us adopt another course.

"Is it a crime for me, one of your sons to invoke loyalty to our national constitution? If so I commit that crime. Let us accept the Negro as a partner in our government, and acts such as these will not occur. Nor in so saying do I abate one inch of my stand for white supremacy. As long as there are distinct races there will be racial aspirations for first place. But I crave not the first place born of the prestige of sitting upon a throne whose base is forever lapped by the waves of the blood of the innocent and the helpless. I stand for white supremacy in intellect, in soul power, in grasp upon the esteem of others through sheer force of character. But all this aside. Justice whom you cannot afford to banish from your borders calls upon you to pronounce over this defendant's head the verdict of guilty."

Young Maul's speech was now over, but he did not sit down. Having declared himself in the manner that he did, he knew that he was henceforth to be a political outcast, a pariah. He had not stood up for the extension of the caste idea to the political system and knew that its ban would henceforth be upon him. Yet in spite of the dreary future which his speech had carved out for him his soul was at ease, for he was conscious of having advocated that which was best for his people. Grasping his hat he strode out of the room, not waiting for the verdict of the jury.

"It is a pity that our section can find no place for so true a soul presided over by so bright a mind," thought the judge, his eyes following young Maul, as the latter passed out of the court room, and through the court house yard, looking neither to the right nor to the left. The people understood his going. He was saying that he had done his duty and personally could be absolved from concern as to results.

The lawyers for the defense, feeling sure of the jury, saw no necessity for the making of speeches on their part. They waived their rights in this particular, and the jury, after being solemnly charged by the judge, was handed the case.

The Negro at the door selling lemonade had been an eager listener to all that was said in the case. He had now totally suspended his sales and, standing in the door was eagerly scanning the faces of the jurymen, who had announced that they did not need to retire, but could return a verdict on the spot.

"Come here, darkey, with your lemonade," called a white man on the outside to the Negro.

The Negro obeyed, though his heart for some cause was in the court room. Suddenly there was a tumult in the court room and the Negro dropped his lemonade bucket and ran to the door. He saw a crowd surging about the lyncher that had been on trial, and he cried out in startling tones:

"Gemmen, don't do dat. Don't kill de man. De boy whut wuz burnt, I'm his daddy. I jes' wanted yer ter 'nounce de man guilty so as ter tek de stain off'n de dead; but fur Gawd's sake, don' lynch de man."

The judge saw through it all at once and hastened to Silas Harper's side, for it was he, Bud's father. In sorrowful tones the judge said, "You are mistaken, friend. They are congratulating the man. They are not trying to hurt him. The jury has said that he was not guilty. You had better come and go with me. They might become enraged against you and have another lynching."

Silas Harper's jaws fell apart in amazement and his eyes took on the look of a terror-stricken, hunted animal. He meekly slunk along after the judge, and to an outsider would have appeared to be a criminal doomed to die.



CHAPTER XXV.

A Joyful Farewell.

Mr. Seabright sat upright in bed and rubbed his eyes. The gas was burning and there sat a man in one corner of his bedroom, turning a rifle over and over, in a cool manner, a keen look of satisfaction in his eyes.

"Am I dreaming? O, I am dreaming!" said Mr. Seabright, trying to thus reassure himself; but a man was sitting in a chair in the corner, all as plain as day.

"But I have had dreams that appeared as real," thought Mr. Seabright.

He pinched himself so as to further determine the fact as to whether he was awake or asleep. Being thoroughly convinced that he was awake, he quickly fell back in the bed and pulled the cover over his head. Remembering, however, the man's rifle, he pulled the covering far enough down to allow one terrified eye to keep track of the weapon.

"Mr. Seabright!" called the intruder.

"Sir," responded Mr. Seabright, in sepulchral tones.

"I think your wife belongs to that man Marshall's church," remarked the man.

Mr. Seabright nodded assent.

"Tell her that her pastor will hardly live till morning and that he would like to see her," said the man.

Mr. Seabright had now found courage to pull the cover down from over the other eye, and it now rested on his nose.

"Did you hear me," said the man, rather sharply.

"You will please excuse my boldness," said Mr. Seabright, tremblingly, "but you have a totally wrong conception of my disposition I fear, Mr. Stranger. You can get the full benefit of my services with only the butt end of that thing pointing my way, instead of the occasional shifting of the muzzle in my direction."

The stranger smiled coldly and said, "Tell her what I said."

Mr. Seabright now got out of bed and proceeded to the door opening from his room into that of his wife.

"Arabelle!" called Mr. Seabright through the partly opened door.

Mrs. Seabright, who was in the midst of a horrible dream, sprang out of bed.

"Arabelle, Percy G. Marshall is dying and would like to see you."

"O my God! Can I save him?" she cried, wringing her hands.

Excited though she was, it was not long before she was attired and rushing to the study of the church where she was told that she would find the dying man. The door of the study was slightly ajar so that she had no trouble in entering. There upon the sofa lay the dying man, his hand pressed to his side, evidently in an effort to staunch the flow of blood. It is the young man whom we saw repeating his childhood prayer after Mrs. Seabright in the Domain Hotel.

"I knew that it would come to this, mother. I wanted to live to tell you that," said the dying preacher.

"O my boy, my darling! O what has lain hold of me?" cried Mrs. Seabright, as she knelt by the bedside of the dying one and kissed his lips fervently.

A gasp and the spirit of the young man was gone. A loud scream rang out on the night air when Mrs. Seabright realized that it was all over with him.

"Wait, my boy, mother is coming."

Taking from her bosom a small vial she swallowed the contents, fell across the breast of the dead and joined him in the spirit land.

* * * * *

When Mr. Seabright had delivered to Mrs. Seabright the message of the intruder, he turned and looked at the man in a helpless sort of way. When Mrs. Seabright was gone the man remarked to Mr. Seabright:

"I been had my eye on your house for sevul years. It makes a good fort to shoot frum. It'll be turned to that use to-day. You'd better clean out, for a mob 'll be here soon."

"O my God! Have they found me out? O my God! my God!" said Mr. Seabright, wringing his hands.

"You may git now, I say," said the man.

Mr. Seabright sought to put on his clothes, but trembled so that he did not make much headway. His visitor, to expedite matters, assisted him in dressing.

"Take your money and the like. I won't need it where I'll be 'fore night," said the intruder.

Mr. Seabright took advantage of this offer to pile into a small valise all the money, valuable papers and jewels in the house that he could find. He went out of the rear door and passed back to his stable, and out into the alley.

Casting a look back at his house, he said: "Farewell, Hades!" Looking up into the heavens, he whispered as he ran: "In case, O stars, any inquiry is made of you as to my whereabouts, please let it be known, of course without specifying the exact spot, that I have gone to the land of the Eskimo. My face will soon be overgrown with a beard which I shall so dye that the keenest scented mob in all the world can not discern any difference between my humble self and the anatomy of the regulation Eskimo. So, farewell!"



CHAPTER XXVI.

Gus Martin.

Gus Martin, for it was he who was Mr. Seabright's visitor, saw to it that every window and door of the house was properly barred, and then repaired to the tower which commanded every approach to the house. To his very great surprise he found the tower a veritable arsenal with ammunition in abundance and death dealing devices of the most improved types. He perceived that the tower was protected by armor plate and was so constructed that one might fire upon others with practically no danger of being hit himself.

"Beyond doubt I shall go to judgment to-day, but I shall take along with me a putty good body guard," said Martin, as he settled himself back.

The day dawned beautifully, and Martin put a hand to his lips and threw a kiss at the sun. "To-morrow I'll know more about you than I do now," said he. "And some others will, too," he added.

At about eleven o'clock he saw leaping the front gate a tall raw boned bloodhound.

"It's a pity a pore dum' brute has got to lead this pursession; but if it mus' be, it mus' be."

So saying, he lifted his rifle to his shoulder and a shot rang out on the air. The beast leaped high up in the air, twisted his head to one side and plunged forward lifeless. Within a few more moments a second hound appeared, and he met a like fate. Soon there was a clatter of a horse's feet and an officer of the law came dashing down the street. As he got opposite the Seabright home a rifle shot rang out and his horse fell, throwing the rider against an electric light post, and stunning him for the time being. Martin aimed his rifle at the officer as he lay, then lowered it.

"Not yet. Ain't had the confab yet."

The people in the vicinity perceived that there was something unusual going on and began to crowd in front of the space facing the Seabright residence. It soon became known that Rev. Percy G. Marshall had been murdered and the murderer had been tracked to the Seabright residence. It was also surmised that the offender was a Negro, as the hounds had traced him from the place of the killing to a Negro dwelling, thence on to the Seabright house. The city of Almaville was soon in a ferment and the white people poured out to that section of the town. Several thousand people were soon massed in the neighborhood of the Seabright residence.

Martin had provided himself with a speaking trumpet and through it he now shouted, "You people are permitted to stand in front uv these premises, but you mustn't 'tempt to git over my front yard fence."

Some one suggested the getting of a trumpet to induce whoever the party was to allow officers of the law to come in unmolested. The trumpet was procured and the following dialogue took place.

The trumpeteer of the crowd shouted, "Whoever you are, we call upon you in the name of the State to surrender."

Martin replied, "I'm a nigger. Martin is my name. I have killed a white man fur a good cause. Before I give up I would like to have a little talk with the sheriff. Tell him to step to the neares' tellerphone place and call up Seabright."

The sheriff did as requested and Gus went to the telephone.

"Say, Mistah Sheriff, this is Gus Martin that saw Dave Harper lynched. If I give up to you will you perteck me?"

"I'll do what I can, Martin. Of course, you know what you have done."

"Will you lose your life trying to perteck me?" asked Martin.

"Well, uh—well, Martin, that's pretty hard to say, considering you murdered one of my race, you know."



"Ring off," said Martin.

Gus now called up the Governor's office.

"Governor, this is Gus Martin. Will you perteck my life if I surrender to this heah sheriff? I am 'cused uv killin' a white preacher."

"I can do nothing unless called upon by the sheriff of your county," said the Governor, and put up the telephone receiver.

The Seabright residence had 'long distance' telephone connections and Gus called up the White House at Washington. He stated his case and the secretary to the President replied:

"We are powerless to act. The most that we can at present do is to create a healthy public sentiment against lynching."

"Ha! ha! ha!" laughed Gus through the telephone. "Is that all you can say to a man that risked his life fur your flag?"

Gus now called up the British legation to sound it on the question of proposing intervention on the part of the leading nations of the world. He was told that the problem was a domestic one and that foreign countries could not intervene. Gus returned to his trumpet and said,

"I have tellerphoned 'round the world and there ain't no justice nowhere fur a black man. We'll fight it out right here."

In the meantime five young men had formed an agreement that they would make the dash to the building. They had figured that Gus could not shoot all five before one of them could reach the lower door and be sheltered from the fire. They made the dash, but Gus was quicker than they fancied, and one by one they went down before his deadly aim. The city was in a frenzy.

We must leave the scene of combat for a while in order to be prepared for the dramatic turn events were about to take.



CHAPTER XXVII.

Tiara Mystifies Us.

Tiara was sitting on the front porch of her home gazing pensively out upon the blue hills that fringed the distant horizon.

On the day previous she had been able to pronounce the wounded Earl well and he had gone forth solemnly pledged to no longer rebel against the overwhelming desire of the Negro race to pursue steadily the policy of moral suasion, as exemplified by Ensal.

That morning Eunice had taken her departure and had for some reason or other refused to let Tiara know her destination.

Tiara missed Eunice, but there was a countervailing joy in her soul. Eunice gone, her period of exile was over, and Ensal—O, well, well; he could call to see her sometimes. That was as much as she would admit to herself, but there was an enlivening sparkle to those beautiful dark eyes whenever that individual came before her mind. She was intending that night to write him a note suggesting that he ought to call and receive an account of her stewardship in the matter of preserving Earl's life. That was a non-committal piece of territory on which a renewal of friendly relations might begin, she felt. The newsboy came riding along and tossed the afternoon paper upon her porch. She picked up the paper, opened it and glanced at the various headings. In an instant her interest in the paper was more than perfunctory.

She saw an account of the murder of Rev. Percy G. Marshall, and of the besieging of the supposed murderer that was still in progress when the paper went to press.

At that moment a white man was passing in a buggy. Tiara hailed him, grasped a hat and was soon in the buggy by his side begging him to speed her to the city, which the wondering man kindly did.

Directed by Tiara, the man drove to the edge of the crowd of besiegers. By brave struggling, her hat gone, her long hair down her back, her dress torn, she made her way to the front of the swaying, surging mass of frenzied humanity.

"Gentlemen," said she, "Let us stop this frightful slaughter. Suspend hostilities! Give me a chance and I will bring things out all right. All I ask is that you respect my prisoner."

Tiara's sweet, strong voice carried conviction and the crowd in silence awaited her action. Snatching a walking stick from a bystander and tearing a sleeve from her dress she made a flag of truce and mounted the steps of the gate.



Through his trumpet Martin shouted, "Flag uv truce held by the lady won't be shot at, purvided no one else comes with her."

The crowd now awaited with feverish anxiety the outcome of this new turn of affairs. Tragic as were the surroundings, the great throng found time to admire the great beauty, the magnificent form, the queenly carriage of Tiara, as bareheaded and with flag aloft she marched up to the citadel of the outlaw.

Martin met her at the door, let her in and ran back to the tower to see that no one took advantage of his absence to attempt to approach the building. But his precaution was unnecessary. It was a matter of honor with the great throng and none thought of violating the flag of truce.

Tiara followed Martin to the tower and spoke to him a few words in a low, earnest voice.

"Woman, is that true? And all this havoc to be laid at my door?"

"My God!" said Martin humbly. "My God," he murmured again. Steadily down the stairway he walked and flung the door wide open, saying to Tiara, who followed, "Well, I'm done. They may have me." Tossing his rifle in midair, he said, "I give up, gentlemen." Taking the white flag he marched down the sidewalk, stepped outside the gate and stretched forth his hand for the sheriff to handcuff him. No sooner was he thus fastened than the mob surged in upon him. A blow from a stick knocked him down. As he lay upon the ground the muzzle of a pistol was seen protruding from each of the side pockets of his pants. Leroy Crutcher, whose testimony had helped to stimulate the mob that lynched Dave Harper, was again on hand. Eager for a souvenir that would enable him to boast to the white people as to how he stood by them, he stooped down to snatch one of the protruding pistols. Martin had the pistols so set in his pocket that to snatch them would pull the triggers and cause them to fire. A shot rang out and ploughed into Leroy Crutcher's body and he fell a corpse.

The crowd swayed back from Gus in superstitious fear, taking him to be a remarkable personage to be able to keep up a bombardment in his condition. As no more shots came the mob felt reassured and drew near the prostrate form of Gus. His eyes looked up into scores of pistols now leveled at him, and as they rang out their death song Gus Martin smiled and died.



CHAPTER XXVIII.

Poor Fellow.

The whole of the night following the Gus Martin tragedy was spent by Ensal in sorrowful meditation, as he restlessly walked to and fro in his room.

The Rev. Percy G. Marshall had been an outspoken friend of the Negro. The white South, Ensal felt, had at one time seemed to fetter its pulpit, not allowing it much latitude in dealing with great moral questions that chanced to have an accompanying political aspect. Ensal had looked on with profound admiration as the young Rev. Mr. Marshall, by precept and by example, boldly led the way for an enlarged scope for the white clergy of the South.

Had the pulpit in question done its full duty in preaching against the institution of Slavery, it might have been eradicated by peaceful means, and the Civil War averted, was Ensal's firm conviction, and he further felt that the future well-being of the South and the happy adjustment of the relations of the races was largely dependent upon the extent to which the white preachers taught the brotherhood of man and invoked the application of the Golden Rule to all pending problems.

In all this work the Rev. Percy G. Marshall was a pioneer spirit, and by degrees the white pulpit of the South was growing more and more aggressive and emphatic. And now it was the irony of fate that this young minister should be slain by a member of the race for which he had imperilled his own standing among the whites.

In addition to his grief over the tragic death of the Rev. Mr. Marshall, there was another phase of the Gus Martin affair that gave Ensal deep concern. Gus was the child of the new philosophy that was taking hold of the race, which was as follows:

Faith in the general government was at a low ebb. Concerted action of a warlike nature on the part of the race was regarded as being out of the question, if for no other reason than that the Negro leaders were practically a unit in pronouncing such a course one of stupendous folly under the existing unequal conditions. Word was therefore being passed down the line that every man was to act for himself, that each individual was himself to resent the injustices and indignities perpetrated upon him, and that each man whose life was threatened in a lawless way could help the cause of the race by killing as many as possible of the lawless band, it being contended that the adding of the element of danger to mob life would make many less inclined to lawlessness.

Ensal saw where such a course would lead the race. Negroes were ordinarily approached in the name of the law and in that name disarmed. When the law had thus rendered them helpless, the mob would form and be presented with the object of its wrath bound hand and foot.

Resistance, then, to be effective would have to be offered to the officers of the law. The utter pitiableness of the lone Negro being sent by this philosophy to fight the organized power of modern society went home to Ensal's heart.

The night passed and dawn found him yet pacing his room. His mother summoned him to breakfast, but the all-night agony of his spirit had robbed him of an appetite. The mail man's whistle blew, announcing the morning's mail.

"I hope I will get a letter that will turn my thoughts into another channel."

Such was Ensal's solemn soliloquy. How little did he dream of what was in store for him. Going to his front gate he received the mail. To his great surprise, the handwriting on one envelope seemed to be that of Gus Martin. He quickly tore this letter open and read its contents. He looked around and about cautiously, as if to see if any one was observing him. He crumbled the letter tightly in his hand and started toward the house, when he began to sway to and fro. His head grew dizzy, he tottered and fell. His mother, who had been observing him through the window, suppressed an incipient scream that almost escaped her lips, and rushed to her son's side. She had seen the effects of the letter, and her first act was to attempt to gain possession of it for the possible protection of her boy. But even in his swooning condition he clutched the letter with so powerful a grasp that she could not wrest it from him. She now cried aloud for help, and neighbors came to her rescue.

Ensal was borne into the house, his mother keeping in close touch with the hand that held the letter. After some effort he was restored to consciousness, and his first words were,

"The letter! The letter! O my God! the letter!"

"You have it, my boy. It has never left your hand," said his mother.

"Thank heaven!" uttered Ensal fervently.

When Ensal seemed to be nearly restored to his normal state the neighbors retired.

"Mother, ask me not why, but prepare my things. I must leave America," said Ensal, in a tone so forlorn as to deeply touch the mother's heart. Drawing near to Ensal she threw her arms around his neck and looked into his eyes as if to read his soul.

Upon this holy scene where troubled son and anxious mother meet we will not obtrude, and so step lightly out of the room.



CHAPTER XXIX.

A Revelation.

The fact that Ensal was to resign his church and leave the country was soon known throughout Almaville and filled the hearts of the good people of both races with sore regret. Tiara was amazed.

"Am I no more to him than that," she asked herself.

Choosing an hour when she knew Ensal would not be in, Tiara called at his home to see his mother. Mrs. Ellwood received her in her bedroom. She dropped on her knees by Mrs. Ellwood's side, and said in tones that told of a sadly torn heart:

"Mrs. Ellwood, don't let your boy leave. We need him. I—, don't, don't let him go."

"I have plead with him, my dear, but his mind is made up, it seems," said Mrs. Ellwood sorrowfully.

"Perhaps he thinks that—that—that I am not—as good a friend to him as—ah! but he ought to—."

Tiara arose, clasped her hands tightly and bent her beautiful face toward the floor thinking, thinking. Tears began to gather as she thought of this culminating sorrow of a life so full of sorrows.

"Mrs. Ellwood," said Tiara, "when your son comes home, for my—well—please, oh please, beseech him to stay. Think me not immodest because I plead with you thus. I feel so sure; I know—somehow I know that if all were known between your boy and myself he would not leave the country, at least would not leave it—." Tiara paused and looked up at Mrs. Ellwood as she finished her sentence with the word, "alone."

"May heaven pardon my boldness," said Tiara, with clasped hands, lifted face and eyes straining for the light that would not come to her soul.

"I understand you, dear child. I must confess that I do not know what has come over Ensal."

The two women now sat down upon the bed, and, clasped in each other's arms, silently awaited Ensal's coming.

"Wait, dear," said Mrs. Ellwood. "I will bring you a copy of the farewell address which he has prepared. Girl, my heart is drawn to you and I love you, have loved you, and I always thought that Ensal loved you with all the ardor of his soul. But I don't understand. I will get the address. It might give us some light."

Mrs. Ellwood soon returned bringing with her the document, which was addressed to a Negro organization devoted to the general uplift of the race, a body that had been founded, and was now presided over by Ensal.

The paper ran as follows:

"FELLOW MEMBERS: I believe in the existence of one great superior Intelligence whom the Christians know as the God of heaven. I believe that this great being accords to men free moral agency, but gathers up all that we do and shapes it to his 'one far off divine event.'

"The Dutch slave trader that landed his cargo of slaves upon the banks of the James River was moved thereto by his greed for gain, we know. The Southerners who wrought upon their slaves and gave them the rudiments of civilization, wrought, we know, for the purpose of gain.

"The war which brought emancipation was not in itself a deliberately planned altruistic movement, but was precipitated upon the country, and waged primarily in the interest of the solidarity of the white race in America.

"In order that the Negroes might preserve their estate of freedom and thus obviate another martial conflict they were given the ballot, and, that the national life might not be corrupted by the putrid exudations from ignorant aliens to its civilization and its ideals, culture was provided for the liberated millions.

"The medley of motives working through all the past has at last produced in America the strongest aggregation of Negro life that has at any time manifested itself upon the earth.

"To say the least it is a striking coincidence that simultaneous with the turning of the thought of the world toward Africa and the recognition of the need therein of an easily acclimated civilizing force, that the American Negro, soul wise through suffering, should come forth as a strong man to run a race.

"In America we are confronted with a grave problem, the adjustment of our relations with a strong race. Some have suggested that our social absorption by this race is the only real solution of our difficulties.

"Fellow Negroes, for the sake of world interests, it is my hope that you will maintain your ambition for racial purity. So long as your blood relationship to Africa is apparent to you the world has a redeeming force specially equipped for the work of the uplift of that continent.

"Again, a seer linked to us by ties of blood, foreshadows that the paramount problem of our century will be the problem of the adjustment of the white to the darker races. If we disappear as a dark race this world problem must look elsewhere for special advocates. It seems to me that our situation is from every point of view eloquent with the voice of destiny.

"I go to introduce a working force into the life of the Africans that will make for their uplift. May it continue your ambition to abide Negroes, to force the American civilization to accord you your place in your own right, to the end that the world may have an example of alien races living side by side administering the general government together and meting out justice and fair play to all. If through the process of being made white you attain your rights, the battle of the dark man will remain to be fought.

"As I enter therefore upon the larger mission of the American Negro, it is with the confident hope that my base of supplies shall remain intact that our struggling kinsmen everywhere may ever find men of their blood piloting the whole strength of America into channels that make for the good of the whole human race.

"Yours in perpetual bonds of brotherhood, "ENSAL ELLWOOD."

The two had just finished the reading of the paper when the door bell rang.

"Ensal's ring," whispered Mrs. Ellwood, who now closed Tiara in the room and went to meet her son.

Armed with the knowledge of the fact that Ensal was strong in Tiara's regard, Mrs. Ellwood was ready for a determined attack. Mother and son entered the study, Ensal perceived at once that his mother had something of importance to say to him.

"My boy," she began, "I know of the noble purpose that moves in your bosom and have ever been proud of it. I shall not chide you now that it turns your face to the fatherland. But I would have you marry."

"No! no! no! mother. O no! never," said Ensal, losing all his wonted calmness, but kissing his mother to let her know that his displeasure over the subject did not extend to her for mentioning it.

"My son, I shall hold you in utter disfavor unto the day of my death if you, without just cause, declare war upon womankind. How can you, my son!" said Mrs. Ellwood reproachfully.

Ensal grew calm and looked long and lovingly at his mother. He saw that for some reason or other his mother had taken up the battle against him and that he was under the necessity of exonerating himself. Said Ensal:

"Mother, I am going to divulge to you a secret which I had firmly resolved to carry to the grave with me. I have withheld it from you, not because I mistrusted you, my dear, dear mother, but for the sake of another. In all my life, mother, I have seen but the one girl whom I have loved, Tiara Merlow—and she loved another!"

The mother shook her head and smiled knowingly.

"Ah, but I know, mother. The object of her love was a white man. Gus Martin saw him kiss her and killed him, killed the Rev. Percy G. Marshall. The letter which gave me so much trouble told me all, told me all! O my God! She loved another."

Mrs. Ellwood sat and looked at Ensal utterly dazed. She arose and, thoroughly weakened physically by the shock of Ensal's information, crept out of the room to Tiara.

"Darling," she gasped, "he says that you loved another—a white man—a preacher—Percy Marshall. Daughter, darling, deny it! Deny it!"

"O! God of Heaven, what shall I do! What shall I do," groaned the unhappy Tiara.

With one hand pressed upon her throbbing heart and the other laid upon her fevered brow the beautiful girl left the Ellwood home.



CHAPTER XXX.

Mr. A. Hostility.

It will be recalled that in a very early chapter we saw a cadaverous looking white man, wearing a much worn suit of clothes, making a sketch of Ensal's home, as the latter was going out to make arrangements with Mrs. Crawford for the introduction of Tiara into the best circles of Negro life in Almaville.

And now in the crisis of the relations of Ensal and Tiara he comes forward to inject his peculiar virus into the awful wound made in Ensal's heart by the disclosures of the Gus Martin letter. Tiara, burdened creature, was hardly out of sight of Ensal's home when this man made his appearance and was ushered into the study. When he had taken the seat proffered him, he said:

"Gus Martin wrote me a letter, enclosing a copy of a letter which he had sent to you."

"O heaven, be merciful. Let it not come to that!" said the agonizing Ensal, shocked that Gus had let another know of the matter that had so disturbed him.

"Your prayer is not directed to me, but I hear, understand, and will answer it. You do not wish the public to know of the contents of your letter. You would shield the good name of the girl. As I shall very shortly trust you with one of the gravest of secrets you will have a hostage which will of itself insure silence on my part. You and I, I am sure are the only two persons to whom Gus communicated the affair and between us we can take care of the secret."

Ensal stepped across the room and clasped the man's hand fervently and the two regarded themselves as mutually pledged to secrecy concerning that matter and whatever was now about to be canvassed.

"It is not necessary for you to know my name, nationality or anything that pertains to me. I am the incarnation of an idea. You may know me as Mr. A. Hostility," said the man.

"Is there any significance attached to your choice of an initial to represent your rather significant given name?" asked Ensal.

"Decidedly," said Mr. Hostility. "The A stands for Anglo-Saxon, the God-commissioned or self-appointed world conqueror. I am the incarnation of hostility to that race, or to that branch of the human family claiming the dominance of that strain of blood."

The man drew his seat up to the table and, motioning for Ensal to take a seat on the other side, said "Come near me, friend."

Ensal did as bidden and sitting thus close to the man noted the almost maniacal look of intensity in his eye.

Keeping his eyes steadily on Ensal's face, Mr. Hostility lifted his hand to his inside pocket and drew out a leathern case. Laying it on the table he crossed his hands upon it and said:

"Will you hear me patiently? Gus Martin told me over and over again that you were a Negro who had dedicated your all to the welfare of your race. I began watching you years ago and I have carefully noted the trend of events waiting for the moment that would make our spirits congenial to each other, and I do believe that the dark shadow under which you stand will sober you into fellowship with my sombre soul."

"You seem to be bitter. I am more crushed than bitter," said Ensal.

"Yes, but bitterness is the next stage, and I am sure that consideration of a few things which I shall put before you will bring you to the next stage," said Mr. Hostility.

Opening the leathern case he said, "Look at this map."

Ensal bent forward and looked at a map of the world spread out before him.

"The world, you see, will soon contain but two colossal figures, the Anglo-Saxon and the Slav. The inevitable battle for world supremacy will be between these giants. Without going into the question as to why I am a Pro-Slav in this matter, I hereby declare unto you that it is the one dream of my life to so weaken the Anglo-Saxon that he will be easy prey for the Slav in the coming momentous world struggle."

"Do I understand that you are to talk treason to me to-day; for of course you know my people are tied up in a political system with the Anglo-Saxons," asked Ensal, with some warmth.

"Ah! That is the question? Are you a part of the American nation or a thing apart? I can prove that you are a thing apart—a fly in the stomach for whose ejection an emetic is being diligently sought. Now, hear me," said Mr. Hostility.

Always eager to hear what thoughtful men had to say with regard to his race, Ensal leaned back in his chair, determined to give earnest attention to this observer of American life, whose very hostility assured the acuteness of his observations.

Just at this moment Ensal's mother informed him that a committee was in their parlor, having come for the purpose of pleading with Ensal to reconsider his determination to leave America.

"Madam," said Mr. Hostility, "tell the gentlemen that there is a party closeted with your son, who has the one key to the Southern situation long needed by your race, and that I am sure your son will abide in America."

Mrs. Ellwood cast a look of warning at her son as she withdrew from the room. She was not at all favorably impressed with Mr. Hostility, and had been ill at ease ever since he entered the house.

Ensal said, "Excuse me a few moments, Mr. Hostility," and stepped out of the room.

Mrs. Ellwood, knowing that her son would follow her, stopped in the hallway, and when he came dropped a pistol into his coat pocket, saying in a whisper, "My dear boy, do be careful."

Ensal smiled sadly and kissed his mother.

"Tell the committee, mother, that my mind is fully made up and a discussion of my going would be utterly useless. Take the name of each, assure them all that I appreciate their interest and will call on them to have a social chat before I leave, provided, however, they agree not to seek to disturb my purpose in this regard."

Ensal's mother went to the parlor with his final word, and Ensal returned to Mr. A. Hostility.

Tiara was now at home praying that Ensal might not leave America yet awhile. Mr. A. Hostility was also praying to his evil genius for a like result.

Monstrous incongruity! How often do diverse spirits from widely differing motives work toward a common end!



CHAPTER XXXI.

Two of a Kind.

While Ensal was absent from the room Mr. Hostility had caught sight of a book which he perceived was the work of a rather conspicuous Southern man, who had set for himself the task of turning the entire Negro population out of America. He clutched the book eagerly and said to himself:

"I will further inflame the fellow with this venomous assault on his race. I will further ripen his heart for my purposes."

Upon Ensal's return to the room, Mr. Hostility called his attention to the book written for the express purpose of thoroughly discrediting the Negro race in America. The militant look that came into Ensal's eye pleased Mr. Hostility immensely. "I will get him! I will get him!" thought he.

Ensal did not speak for some time, allowing his weary mind to go forth upon excursions of thought begotten by the mention of the book. The movement for which this book stood, constituted what Ensal regarded as one of the most menacing phases of the problem of the relation of the races. He knew that in the very nature of things a policy of misrepresentation was the necessary concomitant of a policy of repression. Now that the repressionists were invading the realm of literature to ply their trade, he saw how that the Negro was to be attacked in the quiet of the AMERICAN HOME, the final arbiter of so many of earth's most momentous questions, and he trembled at the havoc vile misrepresentations would play before the truth could get a hearing.

Ensal thought of the odds against the Negro in this literary battle: how that Southern white people, being more extensive purchasers of books than the Negroes, would have the natural bias of great publishing agencies on their side; how that Northern white people, resident in the South, for social and business reasons, might hesitate to father books not in keeping with the prevailing sentiment of Southern white people; how that residents of the North, who essayed to write in defense of the Negro, were laughed out of school as mere theorists ignorant of actual conditions; and, finally, how that a lack of leisure and the absence of general culture handicapped the Negro in fighting his own battle in this species of warfare.

At last Ensal discussed the book with such warmth that Mr. Hostility greatly rejoiced. Leaning across the table, his fiery eyes glowing more fiercely than ever, he almost shrieked:

"Friend, aside from that book, knowest thou not unto what the content of the Southern policy is leading? Extinction, sir, extinction! Listen to me awhile."

"One could hardly be more absorbed than I am at this moment," said Ensal, rather glad of the warmth of the discussion that took his mind somewhat away from his personal grief.

"The Southern white man, when it comes to you, is a believer in caste. He believes or professes to believe that God, who created the worm and the bird, also created the Negro and the white man, and that the gulf between these respective orders of creations is just as wide in the one case as in the other. Follow this caste idea to its last analysis. The lower orders must give way to the higher. The mineral is absorbed into the vegetable and we get the herb, the cow comes along and crops the herb, the man comes along and eats the cow. The higher order is given the power of life and death over the lower. Can't you see that your race is simply preserved because it is not yet in the way of the white race?" said Mr. Hostility.

"Proceed," said Ensal.

"Even now, when have you heard of a white man's being hanged for the murder of a Negro, however cold-blooded the murder? Can't you see the awful significance of that fact? Over seventy-five thousand Negroes have been murdered in the South since your Civil War and I know of just one hanging of a white as a result. Again, the worst houses to live in are assigned to your people; the lower forms of labor, involving the most exposure and danger to life, are reserved for your folks. Phosphate mines and guano factories shorten human life wofully and your people are sought for these 'life shortening' jobs. Mark my words," said Mr. Hostility, rising and bending across the table, "when the Anglo-Saxon feels the need of it, he is going to exterminate you folks. Theories to the wind! When has a theory or sentiment of any kind been allowed to stand in the way of his interests?"

"Well, what are we to do?" asked Ensal, anxious to draw the man out.

The man dropped back to his seat. "Now that's right," said he; "'Where there is a will there is a way,' you Americans say." Reaching into his vest pocket he pulled out a bottle which was hermetically sealed. "There, there, lies your salvation," said he, tapping the bottle.

"How so?" enquired Ensal.

"This thing came to me like a revelation," said the man. "The way to attack an enemy is to get at him where you can do him the most harm at the least risk to yourself." A sinister smile now played upon the man's face. "Your color is the thing that operates against you Negroes. You can take what is your curse and make it your salvation."

The man was delighted with the interest that was plainly evident on Ensal's face.

"Listen!" said he, bending forward and speaking in low tones. "The pigment which abides in your skin and gives you your color and the peculiar Negro odor renders you immune from yellow fever. This bottle here is full of yellow fever germs. Organize you a band of trusted Negroes, send them through the South, let them empty these germs into the various reservoirs of the white people of the South and pollute the water. The greatest scourge that the world has ever known will rage in the South. The whites will die by the millions and those that do not die will flee from the stricken land and leave the country to your people.

"The desolation wrought will for a time disorganize this whole nation and the Pan-Slavists will have the more time to plan for the coming struggle.

"My scheme helps you and helps the Pan-Slavist cause and disposes of a common foe, a section of the white race. Of course, we will have you Negroes to fight in the last contest. But you would prefer being the ones living to make the fight, would you not?" asked the man, now nervously awaiting Ensal's next words.

Ensal was silent for a few seconds. Then he asked slowly:

"Do you make that proposition to me, a follower of the Christ?"

"I have anticipated you there. Did not God use plagues and a wholesale slaughter to solve the Egyptian race problem? Shall you be more righteous than God?"

"Really would you, a civilized being, propose to me a course that involves the wholesale destruction of women and innocent babes?" asked Ensal with mounting wrath.

"Did not your God tell the Hebrews to wage a war of extermination on the Canaanites?" asked the man.

Ensal arose and pointing his index finger at the man, said with a voice vibrant with deep feeling:

"Now hear me a while. During the Civil War my race met the requirements of honor where-ever the test was applied—whether it was in the test of the soldier on the field of battle or the slave guarding the women and children at home.

"Nor has freedom altered this trait of Negro character," continued Ensal. "When discussion rages fiercest, Negro servants continue to abide in white families, with no thought of leaving or of being dismissed. Negro men sit in carriages by the side of the fairest daughters of the Southland and take them in safety from place to place. The Negroes do the cooking for the whites, nurse their babies, and our mothers hover about the bedside of their dying. This they do while their hearts are yearning for a better day for themselves and their kind. But the racial honor is above being tainted. Let the Anglo-Saxon crush us if he will and if there is no God! But I say to you, the Negro can never be provoked to stoop to the perfidy and infamy which you suggest.

"And as for you, sir, I pronounce you the true yoke fellow of him about whose book we have been talking, who, wearing the livery of the unifier of the human race, smites the bridge of sympathy which the ages have builded between man and man, who, inflamed racial egotist that he is, would burn humanity at the stake for the sake of the glare that it would cast upon the pathway of the one race. Is the issue clearly enough drawn between us?"

Mr. Hostility nervously folded his map of the world, restored his bottle of germs to his pocket, and stood facing Ensal in silence for a few seconds, his keen disappointment adding to the uncanny look of his face.

"Remember, we have each other's secrets," said Mr. Hostility meaningly in tones that showed his keen regret at the failure in this instance of his long cherished scheme. This somewhat recalled Ensal to himself.

"Yes! Yes! Fear me not. I do not need to impose anything whatever between your suggestion and our racial honor. That is simply unapproachable from that quarter. For that reason I am not tempted to repeat to others what you have said to me."

Thus reassured, Mr. Hostility made a bow of mock humility, directed at Ensal a look of utter contempt, and disappeared.

Ensal dropped upon his knees and prayed thus:

"O Spirit eternal, God of our fathers, move thou upon the hearts of the American people and bid them to lift thy children of the darker hue from their 'low ground of sorrow,' where all the evil influences of the world feel free to tempt them. In all the dark night that may yet await them, when men shall so beset them as to threaten the sustaining influence of patriotism, grant from the dawn eternal the lighted taper of hope that shall throw its beams athwart the darkness, and furnish a cheering glimpse of the fair end of all things. Watch with thine all seeing eye and nail with thine omnipotent hand the machinations of those who would poison human hearts and destroy the humane instincts that are the graces of our faulty world. Abide thou here forever and grant that the post of pilot of our planet be given unto this land unto which, though I depart, my heart is moored by the sweat of brow, flowing blood and anguish of spirit contributed by my ancestors. Grant unto this prayer the full measure of consideration that can be bestowed by divine will upon the heart pleadings of an earnest humble soul."



CHAPTER XXXII.

Working and Waiting.

Tiara had gone home from her painful interview with Mrs. Ellwood, and sought the seclusion of her room for the purpose of trying to think out a course of action. She was able, she felt, to make all things plain to Ensal, but in order to do this it would be necessary to make disclosures, which, if given publicity, would very materially affect the welfare of others. She felt that Ensal would sacredly guard her revelations, but her disclosures would be of little service to him if he could not use them to protect himself in case the charge against her became public.

Not desiring to put him in a possibly embarrassing position, Tiara concluded to bear her sorrow until such a time as she would be free to defend herself openly, if such a course became necessary. As to when she would be in a position to do this, Tiara was utterly unable to tell and, to add to the horror of the situation, there was absolutely nothing that she could do to advance her interests. Chance, blind chance, so far as she could see, had her fate in hand, and to all the pleadings of her heart as to what was to become of her, no answer came.

The time came for Ensal to depart, and the lips of Tiara were yet sealed by circumstances and did not utter the word that would have set all matters right with her, but wofully wrong with some others, perhaps. It soon became evident to Tiara that she could not stand the strain of a life of hopeless brooding and Ensal had not long been out of America before she began to cast around for a line of endeavor.

Before leaving America, Ensal had published the address which he had prepared in his contest with Earl, and Tiara chose as her mission the placing of a copy thereof in every American home, feeling that it would draw to conditions in the South a greater degree of interest on the part of the nation as a whole.

Not only did Tiara thus appeal to outside influences for an amelioration of conditions, but she also addressed herself to matters that depended upon forces operating within the race. She looked upon the dead line in the business world as being as baneful as that in the political world.

This spirit of caste in the upper grades of employment in the South forbade Negroes from working side by side with the whites. She felt that the most practicable manner of banishing this dead line was for Negroes to combine their capital and launch enterprises that would make it possible for their people to rise in keeping with the claims of merit, unhampered by the fact of their color. She felt that the infusion of hope in the industrial world, the breaking of the bands that hopelessly chained the Negroes to the lower forms of labor was a question of far reaching consequence, and in every way possible she brought the question home to the hearts of the people.

To do this work the more successfully, Tiara took the lecture platform and traveled from city to city, pleading her cause. She also took an active interest in the question of local option, seeking to suppress the liquor traffic wherever local sentiment could be educated to the point that made such a course possible. This work of temperance brought her very often before audiences in which there were white people and Negroes, and sometimes she spoke to audiences in which there were white people only.

It may be said with truth that Tiara was deeply concerned in all these matters and sometimes felt that it was perhaps destiny's way of forcing her out of a reserve that had hitherto denied the world the benefit of some of her powers. But while her heart was in this work, it must also be confessed that she never faced an audience but that her beautiful eyes surveyed it with eagerness, ever in search of some one woman face.

Her correspondence grew to be very large, and each batch of letters, before being opened, was looked over hurriedly in the hope of finding a certain woman's handwriting. A close student of countenances could have discerned over and over the signs of disappointment that her weary heart would often register upon her beautiful face. Days and months and then years dragged their way slowly along.

At last one day Tiara's patient waiting seemed about to be rewarded. An exclamation of joy, a happy little laugh, a beautiful face that told of a weary heart at last made glad, indicated that the letter which Tiara had long hoped for had come.

Tiara took the next train for Goldsboro, Mississippi, a small town in the interior of the state. It was not until the next morning that her train pulled up to her stopping place.

"Can you tell me where the Hon. Q. A. Johnson lives?"

"To be shuah, ma'am," said the Negro lad to whom Tiara had spoken. "Ef you'll git right in heah, you'll be dah befoh yer know it, ma'am," said he giving a Chesterfieldian bow.

As Tiara took the back seat of the double seated buggy, a young Negro man clambered upon the front seat by the side of the driver whom Tiara had accosted. He had a somewhat intelligent looking face and was evidently accustomed to good society, although his clothes on this occasion were ragged and dirty. This Negro had been on the train with Tiara since leaving Almaville, but she had been so absorbed in the object of her mission that she was oblivious to all that was passing around her.

"Whar you gwine?" asked the driver of his Negro companion.

"Scuse me, but beins you don't seem to be over prosp'rous, I specks you had kinder bettah pay in advance," said the driver, with a diplomatic smile that said, "Now, don't get mad. This is a business matter."

Without a word the stranger pulled out a bill and handed it to the driver, who took out his fare.

Tiara reached the Johnson residence, which was a large building, built on the colonial style and surrounded by as fine a set of trees as one could wish to see. Tiara went around to the kitchen and was taken into the dining room by the Negro woman cook.

"You will please withdraw as I desire to be alone when I meet Mrs. Johnson," said Tiara to the cook, with a pleasant smile.

Mrs. Johnson pulled aside the sliding door leading into the dining room and, catching sight of Tiara, uttered a scream of joyous surprise and rushed into her arms. Tiara gently disentangled herself in order to close the door which Mrs. Johnson had left open. Sitting down by Mrs. Johnson's side, Tiara took hold of her hand and talked in low, earnest tones for a few moments, watching her countenance the while.

"No, no, no, I could not think of that for a moment. No, no, no," said Mrs. Johnson, and in her heart there grew a great coldness toward Tiara for even suggesting such a thing.

As for Tiara her hopes fell to the ground, and with despair written upon every feature she arose to go. The two went to the back door through which Tiara had entered, Mrs. Johnson in an excited manner saying over and over again: "O no, no! Such a thing is not to be thought of for a moment!" words that pierced Tiara like a dagger each time they were uttered.

Sitting on a bench in the back yard waiting, as he said, for an opportunity to ask Mrs. Johnson for a job, sat the Negro who had ridden on the train with Tiara and had come to the Johnson residence as she came. Mrs. Johnson looked at him, felt herself grow weak, and swooned away. The Negro had looked scrutinizingly at Mrs. Johnson, and now arose hurriedly, evidently satisfied with his inspection. When Mrs. Johnson recovered consciousness, she asked wildly,