Spirits Do Return
The Project Gutenberg eBook, Spirits Do Return, by Mrs. Ida Belle White
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Title: Spirits Do Return
Author: Mrs. Ida Belle White
Release Date: June 10, 2018 [eBook #57302]
Character set encoding: UTF-8
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Spirits Do Return
IDA BELLE WHITE
SAMUEL L. CLEMENS
THE WHITE PUBLISHING CO.,
3411 East 27th Street, Kansas City, Missouri.
IDA BELLE WHITE
Kansas City, Mo.:
Franklin Hudson Publishing Co.
WHO HAS BEEN MY GUIDE AND INSPIRATION;
WHOSE EXPERIENCE AND TALENT HAVE
ENABLED ME TO BE OF ASSISTANCE
TO THOSE WHO ARE SEEKING
I DEDICATE THIS BOOK.
|The Place of Trouble.—The Convict’s Story||9|
|Prison Life.—Mysterious Influences||25|
|The Ghost of a Woman||37|
|Accused of Murder||50|
|Discharged from the Hospital||62|
|“My Brother a Convict!”||72|
|The Brother Sentenced to Hard Labor||80|
|The Superintendent Tries to Solve the Mystery||87|
|Pat Allows the Prisoner to Escape||97|
|The Mystery Deepens||104|
|Another Dead Man||119|
|An Attempt to Bribe the Prisoner||129|
|The Convict’s Prayer||143|
|“Thank God, He Is Innocent!”||152|
|A New Prisoner in Cell No. 78||159|
|A Clear Conscience Better than Money||196|
|The Murderer Arrives||215|
|Prayer-Meeting in Prison||244|
This book was written through the inspirationalspirit of the well-known writer, SamuelL. Clemens—“Mark Twain.” As I have neverbefore written a book, the reader will see thatI have had help from an unseen force—fromthe Spirit World.
I was told through a trumpet seance meeting,in the spirit voice of “Mark Twain,” toget the materials and he would write me abook—or, rather, that he would inspire me andI could write it, but he would give me thewords to write, which he has done.
I was not in an unconscious condition. Ican turn from my writing and converse as ifI had not been at work through the power ofmy guide. I can give abundance of proof ofthis statement, also for the statement made inthe seance meeting by the spirit from Heaven.
“Mark Twain” has given me encouragementfrom time to time in regard to my book, andhe has promised to write many more for me.
Ida Belle White.
(Mrs. J. L. White.)
SPIRITS DO RETURN
The Place of Trouble.—TheConvict’s Story.
I passed by the house and within I hearda noise. I stopped and listened, and I heardscreams. The voice sounded like that of a ladywhom I once knew. I was puzzled to knowwhat to do, but finally decided to enter. Tomy surprise, I did know the lady. I apologizedfor intruding, saying that I was attracted bythe terrible screams and thought I recognizedthe voice.
The lady replied: “You are very kind, butI think I shall be able to settle my troublewithout your help.”
“I am very sorry, dear madam; I meantwell,” I said.
I took my departure, yet I felt that I shouldnot have done so under the circumstances, forI knew that the talk the dear lady made wasthrough fear, as the master over her was standingnear.
I was greatly depressed, because of the wayin which I had left the place of trouble. I hadgone only a short distance when I decided toreturn. I did so, and, to my surprise, I foundthe dear lady dead, as it is called.
I was horrified. The brute had fled. Whatwas I to do? Go also and leave the poor deadwoman? I decided to do so. When at somedistance from the scene, I was hailed and confrontedby the real murderer and an officer,who accused me of the terrible crime.
What could I do? I knew that I was notguilty, but I failed to make the officer believe it.
I was taken to jail because of the crimecommitted by the one who had me arrested.But I had been seen coming from the houseand I had dropped my handkerchief while wipingthe tears from my eyes.
It was thought to be a plain case withconvincing proof—of circumstantial evidence.Thrown in jail, I was at a loss to know whatto do. I was not guilty, but to prove it wasthe next thing, and the most important thingto do. I hailed the turnkey as he passed, andasked for an attorney. I was favored with theservices of one. I did some good thinking asto how I should prove my innocence.
“Well, my friend,” said the attorney, “Ihave come to see what I can do for you. Isee you need help. You do not look like avery bad man or a criminal.”
“I thank you, sir,” I replied. “I am noteither, but why am I accused of murder?”
“Murder! You a murderer? Oh, no, Ihope not!”
“I am not, but how shall I make the courtunderstand that I am innocent?”
“Well, my friend, explain your case.”
I explained matters, and he remarked: “Ido not see how the court could find an innocentman like you guilty. I am going to show thecourt without trouble that you are not guilty.Have courage; I shall get you out of here assoon as possible.”
The day of the trial was at hand. I hadbecome haggard and worn from the terriblestrain, from the uncomfortable cell which I hadoccupied. My case was called. All ready, Iwas told to take my oath, and then I was swornto tell the truth and nothing but the truth.If I could make the court understand that Iwas innocent, I would soon be a free man.
“Will you tell the court all about this case?”said my attorney.
I proceeded to do so, but, to my horror, Iwas proved guilty to the jury and sentencedby the judge.
What was I to do? I went back to jail towait for a new trial. If that failed, it meantten years in prison at hard work. I had beenconvicted on circumstantial evidence, my handkerchiefbeing found in the house of the murderedwoman. I tried to console myself withthe belief that in some way I would be helpedout.
I had remained in jail three months whenone night I was thinking of the advice my poorold mother had given me, and that was: “Whenin trouble, pray, pray, pray!” I began to pray,and as I prayed I felt encouraged. After that,I prayed often, hoping that my prayers wouldbe answered. At last I could see that I wasfortunate to know within that I was not thereal murderer; then I thought that I shouldpray for the murderer, and I did pray as Inever prayed before.
Oh, what a terrible thing it is to be accusedof a crime so great as that and be innocent!
A new trial was denied me. What was Ito do? God knows I was innocent, but I couldnot make men believe so here on this earth.The day for the journey to the penitentiary wasat hand, and I must go for another’s crime.
As the turnkey called us from our little, darkcells he said: “Please get ready, for we willhave to take the morning train to your home—forsome of you a home for some time to come.”
That included me; that meant a home forten years—and innocent! I had no appetitethat morning, for I was thinking of the injusticedone to many innocent men, and I wasone of them.
We were locked together—shackled—andstarted away