he twentieth
time, she repeated her suggestion that a secretary should be engaged. At
first her brother waived this proposal aside; but at length it became
imperative that help should be sought. "Cobbler" Horn was like a man who
attempts, single-handed, to cut his way through a still-accumulating
snow-drift. The man must perish, if help do not come; unless "Cobbler"
Horn secured assistance in dealing with his letters, it was impossible to
tell what his fate might be. It was now simply a question by what means
the needed help might best be obtained; and both "Cobbler" Horn and his
sister agreed that the wisest thing would be to consult the minister of
their church. This, accordingly, "Cobbler" Horn resolved to do.

"Cobbler" Horn's minister officiated in a sanctuary such as was formerly
called a "chapel," but is now, more frequently designated a "church." His
name was Durnford; and he was a man of strongly-marked individuality--a
godly, earnest, shrewd, and somewhat eccentric, minister of the Gospel. He
was always accessible to his people in their trouble or perplexity, and
they came to him without reserve. But surely his advice had never been
sought concerning difficulties so peculiar as those which were about to
be laid before him by "Cobbler" Horn!

It was about ten o'clock on the Monday morning following his visit to the
lawyers, that "Cobbler" Horn sat in Mr. Durnford's study, waiting for the
minister to appear. He had not long to wait. The door opened, and Mr.
Durnford entered. He was a middle-aged man of medium height, with keen yet
kindly features, and hair and beard of iron grey. He greeted his visitor
with unaffected cordiality.

"I've come to ask your advice, sir, under circumstances of some
difficulty," said "Cobbler" Horn, when they were seated facing each other
before a cheerful fire.

This being a kind of appeal to which he was accustomed, the minister
received the announcement calmly enough.

"Glad to help you, if I can, Mr. Horn," he said.

There was a breeziness about Mr. Durnford which at once afforded
preliminary refreshment to such troubled spirits as sought his counsel.

"Thank you, sir," said "Cobbler" Horn, "I'm sure you will. You have heard
of the sudden and unexpected----"

"To be sure!" broke in the minister, leaping to his feet, and grasping his
visitor's hand, "Pardon me; I quite forgot. Let me congratulate you. Of
course it's true?"

"Yes, sir, thank you; it's true--too true, I'm a