Newspaper Page Text
Mi Isabel Weyland, a wid iw, is threat-
oiird with tho debtors’ prison. Her chiof
on (liter. Mrs. Brymer, suggests a way out
i.l' tho difficulty, marriagre with an im
prison. 'ii d -. t >r. who tor a paltry sum will
assume Mrs. Wevland’s debts also, thus
relieving, her under the English law as it
then was. lie proves te be a young law
yer. AI -.Van lira, and in pity she pays his
small debt front what little there is left of
la r fortum—not enough to free iter—sets
him fr and agrees to marry a criminal
n lid. mi . d to die. in three days as tho
n ans to obtain the desired freedom.
An attempt is made to induce her to
vu d a li- gro murderer, her outraged woni-
ly instinct rejK Is. and she leaves the
l-i is m under tin protection of the parson.
Spcnoing iter last penny toward discharg
ing: her debts, she flees toward Lrondon's
suliurbs, to escape her other unsatisfied
imditors. She encounters a rich, but in
sane. old gentleman who imagines tier
to be tiis dead granddaughter and will
not p rmit her to depart. Here she takes
up an ideal abode, safe from the pursuit
of rot engeful credit.* \
t*
CHAPTER. FIVE
HONE ever such sunshine
as on that cloudless morn
ing? Surely trees and
grass were never so vivid
ly green!
Thus thought Oliver Mc
Namara as he walked out
of prison, a free man, not
many days after Mrs.
Wevland's visit. The gift
bestowed by her own
hand had clothed him in
body and mind and prepared him for
the greater good fortune awaiting him.
The poor fellow had been so weak
and so bewildered by the sudden al
ternation from despair to hope, that
he could not. reflect on all her gener
osity had meant upon that memorable
day. Afterwards he nad chided him
self for receiving money from one
plainly in sore straits herself. She
1 UcnHy. Hm her words to Mrs
Brymer, found some other way.
The food purchased with her gold
pieces would have choked the young
man could he have guessed what way
his benefactress meant to take. When
his glad release came to him and he
found himself the happy possessor of
a. bank account, however small, he
little knew that my lady’s sparkling
eat rings paid for his clothing' that
a cherished bracelet, furnished his
lodgings, and tnat he was eating up
dav by day trinkets that had caressed
the hands and throat of her whom
he worshiped as a scarcely realized
vision.
He believed that his good fortune
came from her gentle and gracious
hand and he longed ardently to be
assured of her welfare and prosper
ity. Doubtless these blessings attend
ed her. else- how had she compassed
such a miracle for himself?
And yet, at intervals as he contem
plated the ring, evidently an heirloom,
there came to him a thought, a fear,
and no week did he allow to pass'
without making certain that his doubts
were groundless.
Each visit that he paid to the
debtors’ prison made the place and the
law that created it more hateful to
both mind and heart. Each time his
exit from its loathsome scenes made
him long the more ardently to see its
cruelties abolished and its wretched
inmates set free.
At last this thought became the ab
sorbing one of his life; and then Will
gradualy joined hands with Wish, until
the moving impulse of all his thought
and speecli was the determination to
do all that lay in his power in whatso
ever direction to abolish or at least
to mitigate its horrors.
As he had predicted, there were
friends in numbers to gather about
him, now that fortune smiled once
more. Many were young enthusiasts
like himself, and finally the little leav
en began to work: there grew rapidly
all over the country a sentiment
against, the injustice, the futility, the
absurdity of confining a debtor where
there was no possibility of his doing
aught to discharge his obligations.
Thorough earnestness in any cause
is always recognized and respected,
and it was due to this, no doubt, that
Oliver found himself on the high road
to prosperity with little extraneous
aid. Fortune, ever ready to smile on
the prosperous, lent him of a sudden
one day a helping hand. At a dinner
he chanced to meet General Ogle
thorpe. soldier, statesman and philan
thropist. The great man was pleased
10 greet him most kindly.
"My dear young sir, I am very glad
to make your acquaintance. I have
been much interested in your words
and works in regard to that unfor
tunate class who are imprisoned for
debt. I am very pleased to know you.”
Oliver answered with becoming
modesty and with a frankness that
won upon the general.
“I have on hand various plans which
my multiplex duties will scarcely per
mit me to mature without aid—real
interested, enthusiastic help is what I
“The ring—that ring ! Wnerz did you get it? Wiere is she?"
wait. 1 believe i would find it in. you
I have had in mind for some time to
seek your acquaintance. Now, if your
time permits, I would be glad to see
you at some near date for a confer
ence.”
Tlie young man expressed his pride
and pleasure at such a request and de
clared himself quite at. the general's
service.
At the appointed time the two gen
tlemen met and wore soon deep in
the discussion of a plan that affect
ed not only a much-to-be-pitied class in
England, but had not a little to do with
America’s subsequent development.
A splendid working pair the two
made; the general, grave, calm, in
tensely thoughtful and cautious; the
younger man with all the fire, enthusi
asm and impulse of youth—youth with
a clear conscience, an untiring brain
and perfect physical health. McNa
mara was a horn orator, and Ogle
thorpe. recognizing this, asked his ait!
in polishing up the important speech
that was to put their labors to five
test.
At the next session of parliament
Oliver sat with a group of sympathiz
ers and listened to General Ogle-
tliorpe'g brief but forceful argument
in favor of prison reform. With tin-
bounded pride and pleasure the young
lawyer heard ideas, sentiments and
even whole phrases of his own flow
forth in the general's cairn, clear tones
to meet with hearty applause.
They heard the culminating motion
that a committee lie appointed to in
vestigate matters in the debtors’ pris
ons; they helped applaud the passage
of the motion; but when General Ogle
thorpe himself was l-imr-d as chairman
of this committee their enthusiasm
knew no bounds.
There was much work to be done,
even after the pitiful, the shameful
conduct of these prisons was made
public. The workers spared neither
time nor effort till the thing was ac
complished. the grant of land in Amer
ica our own fair Georgia made; the
appropriation of 50.000 pounds voted
in, and men. good and true, named to
carry all into effect.
In an of this Oliver was actuated
most strongly by a motive half hid
den from his own consciousness. Those
who knew him attributed his earnest
ness to the memory of his own incar
ceration, but this was not wholly
true. Could he have analyzed his
most compelling thought it would
have been that all this was done, in
a way, for her. But for some fortuitous
chance, she might have been one of
those sufferers for whom he was at
work.
He looked ttpon the ring as some-
tiling sacred, and cherished it accord
ingly. And in his inmost heart he
had a sure feeling that some day
they must stand face to face.
His thought carried him no further.
Indeed it was scarcely a formulated
idea, but an upholding, upraising faith
that, was unconsciously the mainspring
of his life. True love is sometimes
thus potent through a mere word ox-
glance.
His state of mind or heart was
brought home to him quite suddenly
one evening. Having some important
business connected with the colony
scheme, he was in conference with an
astute old lawyer, one Peter War
wick. Oliver was going over some
points upon a map and in the course
ot his talk chanced to stretch out his
hand to hold the parchment in place.
To his great surprise, Mr. Warwick
pounced upon his wrist with a sharp
exclamation, and bringing the hand
within the radius of the light gazed,
upon it breathlessly.
“My dear sir,” began Oliver, in some
confusion.
“The ring—that ring! Where did you
get it? Where is she?”
“Who?” gasned Oliver.
“Why, Isabel Dunstan—Isabel Wey
land. Where is she and how did you
get this ring?”
’Isabel!” repeated Oliver dreamily.
’’Isabel!”
“Yes. Isabel. You must know her.
Tell me instantly. I have been search
ing for her this year past. Never did
have anything baffle me so. Com
plete disappearance. Absolutely no
clew. Seemed to have evaporated. And
here is twenty thousand pounds wait
ing for her to step up and take it.”
' chat!' cried Oliver.
“Yes, that’s it. Her father relented
at the last minute and left her half
as he should have done. Now, where
shall 1 find her?”
The oid man's excitement had
quieted down somewhat and Oliver
told him frankly all he knew.
“Then she's living and we’ll find
her!” cried the peppery old fellow.
“Why, God bless her! When she was
but a slip of a lass sue nursed my
little girl through the smallpox be
cause everybody else deserted us.
Risked not only her life, but what’s
far more to a woman, her handsome
face. Old Peter can’t forget that. My
Nell's almost a woman, but she hasn’t
forgotten. Come around and let her
have a look at that ring.”
“Was it an heirloom?”
“Yes, given her by her mother.
. There isn't another cameo in England
like it. I could have sworn she would
A; • /par,’ with it white she was nlp-e
and in her senses.”
Oliver suddenly felt himself reel. An
awful thought had come to him. Why
had she given it away?
But, no! She was alive; he felt it;
he knew it.
“She is alive,” he cried, “and we’ll
find her!” And the compact was
sealed.
They did their best but all in vain,
band hopes the change will do a heal-
No little bird whispered to them to
look over a certain high stone wall
in a retired part of the city, where a
lady, still girlishly sweet and young,
paced the flowery walks or fed her pet
birds whose cages stood open all the
summer long.
They might have heard her harp
had they but lingered a moment at the
gate while she sang sweetly to an old
man, who listened in dreamy happi
ness.
The fragrance of the roses came to
them, no doubt, many a summer day,
roses artfully reproduced by slender
white fingers in pieces of exquisite em
broidery still cherished by certain
American families as heirlooms of
their lovely ancestress. Isabel—'buy.
the name’s another story.
CHAPTER. SIX
Isabel Weyland sat again at a win
dow gazing sadly into tlie future. Fate
had wrought another crisis in her
checkered life and she must face the
problem of tomorrow. The months
had rolled their varied course once
around the calendar, and yet another
half year had flown. She had felt no
wish for change; many womanly re
sources had occupied her happily even
during the dreary weeks of winter;
and as one peaceful day slipped af
ter its fellow, she grew to have no
fear and little anxiety for the future.
Then of a sudden Mr. Richmond began
to fail and within a week he sank;
pcacefuly to sleep, a smile on his lips,
and her hand clasped feebly in his
own.
Yesterday he was laid to rest and
today she looked with unseeing eyes
upon a changed world.
Where should she go? What should
she do? She felt her bereavement as
keenly as the true Jeanne might have
one. The old man had been her an
chor in this quiet, pleasant haven;
now she was again adrift.
The calm happiness brought to Mr.
Richmond by her continued presence
had by degrees restored his disordered
faculties to a normal balance. He
gradually came to understand that she
was not really his Jeanne, but he seem
ed .o love her none ine less. Arid
when he realized that his time had
come, he made a will, leaving her in
her true name a considerable sum in
available funds, so that she was at
least relieved of all financial trouble.
Her first step was to move into quiet
lodgings until she could pay off those
old debts which had made shipwreck
of her life. Inen she felt free to plan
for the future.
The faithful Francois had become
her devoted slave and lie acted as
her go-between in all her affairs. One
day he came to her with his usual
melancholy so deepened that she could
but inquire the cause.
“It is sad, sad, mamzelle,” the old
follow replied, shaking his head
mournfully. “I have been to see a
friend in the . Marshalsea. He was
thrown there for a debt a year ago
and his wife and daughter were with
him. Day after tomorrow they were
to have sailed for America with Gen
eral Oglethorpe to begin life over,
again in that land of gold and sun
shine. They were so happy—so hap
py, mamzelle! And/ so gratefui to
General Oglethorpe and to the young
man who has had the actual work in
hand—McNamara his name is, I be
lieve.”
“A lawyer?” asked Isabel with sud
den interest.
“Yes, mamzelle. and an able one,
too. They say he spent some months
himself in one of those vile dens and
since some friend procured his re
lease he has worked and talked of
nothing else but help for the unfor
tunates the law shuts up there.”
“Do you know his first name?” his
listener asked eagerly.
“No, I do not; but he’s a fine look
ing gentleman—and a true one, or I'm
no judge.”
'You saw him. then?”
“Yes; he was the first one my poor -
friend turned to in his trouble. He
came at once and did all that could be
done to console them.”
“But. you haven’t told me.”
“True. True, mamzelle. I find my
self bewildered and upset by the
shock; what must the father and
mother feel? You see. as I say they
would have sailed the day after tomor
row. Lizzie, poor lass, was so happy
over it. She was the daughter, just
38—and as sweet a maid as you would
care to see. This morning she over-
s.ept, and when her mother went to
waken her, she found her dead—quite
stiff and cold. Heart trouble, the
doctors say.”
’ten, how shocking! How truly ter
rible! The poor mother!”
“Shocking, indeed, mamzelle. She
will likely never get over it. Her hus-
&f>e First Legal Execution In the Philippines
By Claud B. \ealy
Written for CAe Sunny South
HE first legal execution con
ducted bv Americans in
the Philippine islands, at
which time the American
gallows was introduced,
occurred April 27, 1000, at
San Carlos. Pampanga
province, island of Luzon.
Benito Gonzales and Gre-
goria Morales, two Filipi
nos, died bv means of the
noose, after conviction for
the brutal and atrocious
murder of one of their fel
low countrymen—Jose Don Domingo, a
wealthy and influential Filipino and pres
ident of San Carlos.
W. Stacy Davis, an Atlanta boy who
served as a member of the hospital corps
in the Philippines and who has recently
returned home, witnessed and partici
pated in the execution, assisting in plac
ing the dead bodies in ‘he coffins. The
accompanying photograph was brought
back by Mr. Davis and is the only au
thentic views of the execution ever piiu-
thentic view of the execution ever pub-
story of the crime of the tw'o Filipinos
end cf their execution.
Never before in the history of the
islands had there been a legal death
hanging for any crime and the execution
marked an important and notable event.
Previously the bullet had formed the
means by which the natives exterminat’d
those convicted of crime. American sol-
dors gave them their first insight into
the An orientn death trap.
Gonzales was formerly president of San
Carlos, but rati a wav when it became
know'll that the* Americans would soon
occupy the town, lie was succeeded by
Domingo, who met death at the hands of
his predecessor, assisted bv Morales. The
two men were captured bv American sol
diers; were tried bv an American court,
convicted, anil given tho extreme pen
alty.
the trial was held at Baulista. 20 miles
from San Carlos and h“ iilquarters of tho
Seventeenth infantry. The two Filipinos
were confined there until the day before
the execution, when they were removal
to San Carlos. There they were placed
in a dungeon in a large convent. A Fili
pino priest remained with tlie doomed
men throughout their last night on earth
and the hours in the lonely dungeon
were jessed in observing the forms of
the Filipino religion.
I he Filipinos travel but little and have
small knowledge of affairs outside of
their own town, but the news that two
m‘’n were to he hanged
Thousands was so unusual that it
of Curious soon spread for miles.
Natives In the ear!v morning of
Viewed Ext- April 17 people from
ecution neighboring provinces be
gan arriving in crude
conveyances and on foot. San Carlos s
a town of about 25.0OI inhabitants, but
on that day there were many thousands
more within its borders.
The execution was set for noon. By
that hour the usually quiet and serene
town was swarming with Filipinos of all
classes and conditions. The presidents
of surrounding towns were there and, at
tired in costumes of wliite. presented a
picturesque sight. The people of San
Carlos turned out en masse and the
s-ght w as one perhaps never before wit
nessed in a Philippine province.
Despite the immense throng of natives.
no disorder was manifest! d and no dispo
sition was show’ll to interfere with :he
work of the soldiers. Precautions were
taker, how< ver. and the town was care
fully guarded by the Seventeenth and
part of the Thirty-sixth and Thirteenth
infant’-ies. The soldiers kept a closa
Continued on last page
J
:.;WM
C BsgS
iiiwi
hand hopes the change will do a heal
ing work for her, but her constant cry
now is that she cannot go so far and
leave her Lizzie, her baby, here. It
is passing pitiful to hear her.”
“Do you think, Francois, that I could
he of service to them in any way?”
“I fear not, mamzelle. There is
nothing to be done. Lawyer McNa
mara will see that the poor girl is put
away decently. Well, well,” he added
mournfully, “perhaps heaven is oven
better for the dear lass than America,
hut her parents will miss her sorely.”
Isabel was sitting in deep thought
and he stood respectfully waiting for
her to speak. Suddenly she drew a
long sigh and came out of her reverie.
“Your news has put an idea into my
head. Do you happen to know a par
son Gaynham around Southwark?”
“I know him well. I brought him to
my poor friends today; and, mamzelle,
let them say what they will, he is a
good man. He was as gentle as any
woman to that stricken mother.”
“Will you take a letter to him from
me?”
“Instantly, mamzelle.” he replied
with his deferential bow.
Later in the day the parson appear
ed in person in answer to Isabel’s note.
“My dear lady,” he cried, “may I
tell you how overjoyed I am at again
seeing you in the llesh—well and pros
perous, I hope?”
Isabel gave him her hand. She. too,
recognized the good heart hid beneath
the outer husk.
“I know what you feared,” she said,
“and you were not far wrong. But
fate saved me at the last moment by
pointing out another way. and a very
pleasant way it has been.”
“I am pleased, indeed, to hear this.
You have been often in my thoughts—
and in those of another, if I mistake
not,” he added with a meaning look.
“What can you mean?” cried Isa
bel, at a loss.
“Why, there is a certain gentleman
that wears a curious ring upon his
,little finger that- comes to our plat e of
entertainment at least every week. He
is not satisfied until he has seen ail of
our guests and then he draws a sigh
of relief and goes away content.”
“’Tis your fancy!” the lady cried, a
pretty color tinting her cheek.
“No; no fancy,” he maintained stur
dily, “but solid fact. He bus tried to
squeeze information out of the old par
son, but—” an expressive gesture fin
ished the sentence.
“They tell me he is quite prominent
in today’s affairs,” said Isabel, care
lessly.
“He is, indeed. They say that Gen
eral Oglethorpe has sought his aid in
all his benevolent projects for the
debtors.”
“And you say he’s active in this new
colony plan?”
“The leading spirit.”
“Ah, that will complicate matters a
bit for me,” she said, thoughtfully.
“Give me some details o- the plan,
please.”
The clergyman proceeded to outline
the beneficent scheme as planned by
Oglethorpe and his allids to assist the
imprisoned debtors to begin a new life;
the grants of land to he made to the
settlers, the government appropriation
which should secure them from want
until they could establish themselves
in their new homes. He expatiated on
that wise provision that all emigrants
must be of good character and must
have the consent of their creditors.
He grew quite enthusiastic over it all
and lauded both project and projectors
in unstinted terms.
As Isabel listened her wish grew and
strengthened.
“My friend,” she said, “I have learn
ed of poor Lizzie’s untimely death.
Now I want to ask if there would bet
any chance of my going to America in
her place.”
"You, madame? Surely you are not
in earnest!”
“Yes,” she smiled, “really in earnest.
I have not thought of the matter long.
111 admit, but I am very certain that
I wish to go.”
“Oh, youth! Youth!” sighed the old
man. “Well, my dear lady, if you are
sure you wish it. that is enough for
the old parson. The matter will be
very simple. I will see our lawyer
friend and when he knows—”
“But he must not know,” said the
lady quickly. “I particularly wish to
avoid that. I desire to go under this
girl’s name if possible. Of course I
mean to pay my passage, and a bonus
for the privilege, if necessary.”
“Well, well,” said the parson, some
what ruefully, “I don’t pretend to un
derstand the gentle sex, plural or sin
gular; but it does seem a pity—consid
ering all things—”
“If you think you can manage this
for me,” broke in Isabel, with glow
ing cheeks, “you will be doing me a
great favor.”
“I am quite certain that I can," re
plied the parson; “and I will be about
it. You shall hear from me at the
earliest moment. Adieu, my lady. I
will soon be able to wish you ‘bon voy
age.’ ”
(To Be Continued.)
3?
ft
ti | .
f $;
i«
ft
