The prayer had been brief, and poor Jack had listened to it with heedless resignation; but it had struck a chord in his bruised heart which continued to vibrate long after his visitor was gone. The next day "Cobbler" Horn found his cousin in a more serious mood. The poor young man told him something of his sad history; and "Cobbler" Horn spoke many earnest and faithful words. It became increasingly evident to "Cobbler" Horn, day by day, that life was ebbing fast within his cousin's shattered frame; and he grew ever more anxious to bring the poor young fellow to the Saviour. But somehow the work seemed to drag. Jack would express a desire for salvation; and yet, somehow he seemed to be holding back. The hindrance was revealed, one day, by a stray question asked by "Cobbler" Horn. "How about your will, Jack?" Jack stared blankly. "My will? Why should I make a will?" "Because you have some money to leave." "Ah! Whose will it be, if I die without a will?" "Mine, I suppose," said "Cobbler" Horn reluctantly, after a moment's thought. "Well, then, let it be; nothing could be better." "But is there no one to whom you would like to leave your money?" Jack looked fixedly at the already beloved face of his cousin. Then his own face worked convulsively, and he covered it with his wasted fingers. "Yes, yes," he said, in tones of distress; "there is some one. That is---- You are sure the money is really my own?" He seemed all eagerness now to possess his share of the money. "To be sure it is," responded "Cobbler" Horn. "That is quite settled." "Well, then, there is a poor girl who would have given her life for mine; but I have behaved to her like a brute. She shall have every penny of it." "Cobbler" Horn listened with intense interest, and at once gave expression to a burning apprehension which had instantly pierced his mind. "Behaved like a brute!" he exclaimed. "Not in the worst way of all, I hope, Jack?" "No, no, not that!" cried Jack, in horror. "Thank God! But now, do you know where this poor girl is to be found?" "I think so. Her name is Bertha Norman, and her parents live in a village only a few miles from here. When I gave her up, I believe she left her situation, here in the city, and went home with a broken heart." "Well, Jack, your decision will meet with the approval of God. But, in the meantime, we must try to find this poor girl." "If you only would!" "Of course. But, with regard to the other matter--you would like to have the thing done at once?" "The thing?" "The will." "Oh yes; it would be better so." "Then we'll arrange, if possible, for this afternoon. Perhaps you know a lawyer?" "No. Amongst all my follies, I have kept out of the hands of the lawyers. But there is the gentleman who rescued me from that den, where I should have been dead by now. Perhaps he would do?" "Ah, the agent of my lawyers in London! Well, I'll see him at once."