"Yes, I will see her; but first, first, will you pray with me?" Mr. Home knelt down at once. The gray-headed and sinful man knelt by his side. Then the clergyman hurried away to fetch his wife. CHAPTER LIII. THE PRINCE OF PEACE. It was very nearly midnight when Mr. Home, entering the sitting-room where his wife waited up for him, asked her to come with him at once. "There is a hansom at the door," he said, "put on your bonnet and come. I will tell you all as we drive along; come at once, we have not a moment to lose." Charlotte Home, accustomed as Home's wife to imperative demands, only thought of a night's nursing of some specially poor patient. She rose without a word, and in two minutes they were driving, as fast as a fleet horse could take them to Prince's Gate. "Charlotte," said her husband, taking her hand, "God has heard my prayer, God has given me the man's soul." "Whose soul, my dearest?" "The soul of John Harman. Charlotte, I have prayed as I never prayed before in all my life for that guilty and troubled sinner's soul. I have been in an agony for it; it has seemed to me at times that for this lost and suffering brother I could lay down my very life. On Sunday last I went to conduct service in the small iron church. I tried the night before to prepare a sermon; no thought would come to me. I tried at last to look up an old one; no old sermon would commend itself. Finally I dropped all thought of the morrow's sermon and spent the greater part of the night in prayer. My prayer was for this sinner, and it seemed to me, that as I struggled and pleaded, God the Father and God the Son drew nigh. I went to bed with a wonderfully close sense of their presence. At morning prayers the next day, Miss Harman and her father entered the church. You may well look at me in surprise, Charlotte, but when I saw them I felt quiet enough; I only knew that God had sent them. For the first time in my life I preached without note or written help. I felt, however, at no loss for words; my theme was the Prodigal Son. I thought only of Mr. Harman; I went home and continued to pray for him. On Tuesday morning--that is, this morning--he was again at the church. After the prayers were over he waited to speak to me: he asked me to visit him at his own house this evening. I went there; I have been with him all the evening; he told me his life story, the bitter story of his fall. I am now come for you, for he must confess to you--you are the wronged one." "I am going to see John Harman, my half-brother who has wronged me?" said Mrs. Home; "I am going to him now without preparation? Oh! Angus, I cannot, not to-night, not to-night." "Yes, dear, it must be to-night; if there is any hardness left in your heart it will melt when you see this sinner, whom God has forgiven."