Magdalene, and now and then there came a
glad thanksgiving of overflowing joy. Toyner tried to repeat what he
heard, hoping thereby to give some expression to the need within him;
but all that he could think of was the craving for strong drink that he
knew would return and that he knew he could not resist.

He heard light footsteps, and felt a strong arm embracing his own
trembling frame. The preacher had come to kneel where he knelt, and to
pray, not for him, but with him.

"I cannot," said Bart Toyner, "I can't, I can't."

"Why not?" whispered the preacher.

"Because I know I shall take to drink again."

"Which do you love best, God or the drink?" asked the preacher. "If you
love the drink best, you ought not to be here; if you love God best,
you need have no fear."

"God." The word embodied the great new idea which had entered Toyner's
soul, the idea of the love that had power to help him.

"I want to get hold of God," he said; "but it isn't any use, for I shall
just go and get drunk again."

"Dear, dear fellow," said the young preacher, his arm drawing closer
round Bart, "He is able and willing to keep you; all you have to do is
to take Him for your Master, and He will come to you and make a new man
of you. He will take the drink crave away. He knows as well as you do
that you can't fight it."

"I don't believe it," said Toyner.

Then the young preacher turned his beautiful face toward the blue above
the trees and whispered a prayer: "Open the eyes of our souls that we
may see Thee, and then we shall know that Thou canst not lie. Thy honour
is pledged to give Thy servants all they need, and this man needs to
have the craving for drink taken out of his body. He has come at Thy
call, willing to be Thy slave; Thou canst not go back on Thy promises.
We know Thou hast accepted him, because he has come to Thee. We know
that Thou wilt give him what he needs,"--so the short sentences of the
whispered prayer went on in quick transition from entreaty to
thanksgiving for a gift received. Suddenly, before the conclusion had
come, Bart stood up upon his feet.

"What is it, my brother?" asked the preacher. He too had risen and stood
with his hand on Toyner's shoulder.

They were alone together, these two. The great crowd of the congregation
had already gone away; those that remained were each one so intensely
occupied with prayer or adoration that they paid no heed to others.

"I feel--light," said Toyner.

"De