Unfettered

he settlement wherein Beulah was murdered, in order to

the natural charms of the Southland, the home of birds and flowers, grand with mountains, beautiful with valley

throbbed with a sense of shame over the perpetration of the crime and now sought to shake itself loose from the benumbing influences of an ever-pervading race feeling that was so powerful as to render inoperati

hemselves the right of exclusive control of public affairs. This act had been quietly submitted to by the Negroes, and the people of the North at that time appeared to be disposed to accept in great m

the indignation of the South, no arrests were made. The members of the mob were in some way related to practically every influential family in t

" This verdict brought the incident to a close, so far as society, acting through legally constituted agencies, was concerned. But the incident was not in reality closed; for when a given agency fails to ade

ves ostracized on every hand. Those who were engaged to

ity equal to that of prison stripes. If the perpetrators of the crime were not convicts, the diffe

Beulah's death. The 'Squire was the soul of honor, as he understood it, and while he believed it to be the design of God that the w

rd of the part that the young man had played in the matter. The hour was late; his son

heek once more before I find out whether or not he is guilty." His caressings awoke Alfred, a

se while his daughter was in there, and that you struck the blow that killed her. I

ok of deep remorse upon hi

ble to truthfully say that the statements are fals

nor and justice were throttling the love of his son. The moment was as excruciating as the soul of man ever kne

d, bringing with him the family pistol. He placed it on the lamp-stand that stood at the head of Alfred's bed. Without saying a word he left the room. He went to bed, but, alas, could not sleep. He lay througho

thus bear open disgrace? Alfred! Alfred! There is a pistol at the head of your bed." So saying, the 'Squire ret

g. He had been brought up from infancy by a "black mammy," and she had succeeded in imbuing his soul with her living fear of hell and her conceptions of a personal devil. As he sough

not a word to his son. That day he summoned all of his relations that were near by to gather

e Mullen and Alfred. These two now took their seats side by side. A huge leather back book was in the 'Squire's hands. His face wore a stern aspect, but one could tell that grief born of love was gnawing at his vitals. Since the previous night his hair had whitened and his brave eye had lost its glitt

y while he read, Alfred's ey

prowess of himself and the others assembled who had rendered excellent service to the cau

the blood of our illustrious family. If so be, then the record must read that Alfred Mullen, on a Christmas morn, murdered a Negro girl in the

s deed must go on record. If you decide that it s

Mullen upon pain of being killed; that you must never lay claim to kinsh

ves arose and, with becoming gravity, made speeches repudiating Alfred, insisting

ything to say. He made no reply; his head was still bowed. A vote wa

nce and in sorrow. Alfred, the out-cast, had gone. When the men entered the room Mrs. Mullen read in their c

e sternness of his voice. His heart, too, was sadly, cruelly torn by what

farious crime. They dragged out all of the kegs and barrels containing liquor, and emptied the contents on the ground. They then set the building on fire, a