" returned the other firmly.

"You are right, sir," said Seaward, "I would not advise that you
should--at least not here, or now. I have been in the habit of reading
a verse or two of the Word and giving them a short address sometimes
about this hour. Have you any objection to my doing so now? It won't
detain us long."

"None in the world; pray, my good sir, don't let me disarrange your
plans."

"Perhaps," added the missionary, "you would say a few words to--"

"No, no," interrupted the other, quickly; "no, they are preaching to
_me_ just now, Mr Seaward, a very powerful sermon, I assure you."

During the foregoing conversation young Welland's thoughts had been very
busy; ay, and his conscience had not been idle, for when mention was
made of that great curse strong drink, he vividly recalled the day when
he had laughed at Sam Twitter's blue ribbon, and felt uneasy as to how
far his conduct on that occasion had helped Sam in his downward career.

"My friends," said the missionary aloud, "we will sing a hymn."

Some of those whom he addressed turned towards the speaker; others paid
no attention whatever, but went on with their cooking and smoking. They
were used to it, as ordinary church-goers are to the "service." The
missionary understood that well, but was not discouraged, because he
knew that his "labour in the Lord" should not be in vain. He pulled out
two small hymn-books and handed one to Sir Richard, the other to
Welland.

Sir Richard suddenly found himself in what was to him a strange and
uncomfortable position, called on to take a somewhat prominent part in a
religious service in a low lodging-house!

The worst of it was that the poor knight could not sing a note.
However, his deficiency in this respect was more than compensated by
John Seaward, who possessed a telling tuneful voice, with a grateful
heart to work it. Young Welland also could sing well, and joined
heartily in that beautiful hymn which tells of "The wonderful words of
life."

After a brief prayer the missionary preached the comforting gospel, and
tried, with all the fervour of a sympathetic heart, to impress on his
hearers that there really was Hope for the hopeless, and Rest for the
weary in Jesus Christ.

When he had finished, Stephen Welland surprised him, as well as his
friend Sir Richard and the audience generally, by suddenly exclaiming,
in a subdued but impressive voice, which drew general attention:

"Friends, I had n