"And I want to do some good
before I go. What shall I do? Tell me."
There was a pause that lasted so long that those who had held
their breath to listen, again breathed deeply. When the answer
came, it was strangely deprecatory, uncertain, unassured.
"You," stammered the voice, "you must have courage to do what
you know to be just!"
For a brief moment, as though surprised, Mr. Hallowell
apparently considered this, and then gave an exclamation of
disappointment and distress.
"But I don't know," he protested, "that is why I called on you.
I want to go into the next world, Kate," he pleaded, "with clean
hands!"
"You cannot bribe your way into the next world," intoned the
voice. "If you pity the poor, you must help the poor, not that
you may cheat your way into heaven, but that they may suffer
less. Search your conscience. Have the courage of your
conscience."
"I don't want to consult my conscience," cried the old man. "I
want you to tell me." He paused, hesitating. Eager to press his
question, his awe of the apparition still restrained him.
"What do you mean, Kate?" he begged. Am I to give the money
where it will do the most good -- to the Hallowell Institute, or
am I to give it to Helen? Which am I to do?"
There was another long silence, and then the voice stammered;
"If -- if you have wronged me, or my daughter, or the poor, you
must make restitution."
The hand of the old man was heard to fall heavily upon the arm
of his chair.
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