When they had returned home, drenched and exhausted, Louis laid his hand upon Mr. Clare’s arm, and smiled into his face with white lips but strangely shining eyes. “Mr. Clare,” he said, “oh, Mr. Clare, I have my wish, that I tried not to wish for. He has been very good to me. I _know_ now that He is God, and that He could not—oh! He _could_ not stay in Heaven while we suffered and died on earth; He _must_ come down to help and save us!” “He is saving us now, Louis,” said Mr. Clare, “saving us by what seems the extremity of His wrath. ‘O Saviour of the world, Who by Thy cross and precious blood hast redeemed us, save us and help us, we humbly beseech Thee, O Lord’!” CHAPTER II. “POLLY, PUT THE KETTLE ON.” With the breathing of that first prayer and the attainment of Louis’ wish, the breach between the two parties at “Prices” became a self-evident fact; and though across the breach the bands of good-fellowship still held fast, even these no longer bound together the members of one household, but connected two opposing camps, the relations between which were manifestly strained. Karl Metzerott called himself a reasonable man. He professed to have no personal feeling in the matter, no personal grudge against Mr. Clare. “No interloper,” he said, “could ever be to ‘Prices’ what he, Karl Metzerott, had been; and as for present influences, he was abundantly ready to welcome any that were good. Had he ever opposed this man Clare until he came out in his true colors? cunning, canting priest that he was! As for Louis, what he chose to believe was his own affair; it was a free country, surely, as far as a man’s conscience was concerned; and if what satisfied his father was not good enough for him, it was nobody’s business but that of their two selves.” It was quite true that Mr. Clare was exerting all his powers, and putting forth his utmost influence; for one of those crucial questions had arisen which try men’s souls, and separate between the good and the evil.