“Yes; I remember.”

“I’d like to talk to that fellow tonight.”

So Chester talked at the street-meeting that evening, but to a very orderly lot of people.  After the services, many pressed around him and asked him questions.  One young man walked with him and the elders to the mission office.  They talked on the gospel, and Chester forgot his own heartache in ministering to another heart hungering for the truth.

The next morning, Chester tried again to remain in bed, but this time without success.  He was up in the gray awakening city, walking in the park, listening to the birds near by and the rumbling beginnings of London life.  After breakfast, he went again to the Church office.

“You must excuse me for thus being such a bother,” he explained to Elder Malby, “but—­but I can’t keep away.”

“I hope you never will,” replied the elder, encouragingly.  “It is when men like you keep away that there is danger.”

“What’s the program today?”

“Tracting.  Do you want to try?”

“Yes; I want to keep going.  Yesterday was not bad.  I felt fine all day.”

That afternoon Chester had his first trial in delivering gospel tracts from door to door.  He approached his task timidly, but soon caught the spirit of the work.  He had a number of interesting experiences.  One old gentleman invited him into the house, that he might more freely tell the young man what he thought of him and his religion, and this was by no means complimentary.  An old lady, limping to the door and learning that the caller was from America, told him she had a son there—­and did he know him?  Then there were doors slammed in his face, and some gracious smiles and “thank you”—­altogether Chester was so busy meeting these various people that he had no time to worry over those who now should be nearly to Kildare Villa in green Ireland.

While he was eating supper with the elders, which Elder Malby said he had well earned, a messenger came to the door.  Was one Chester Lawrence there?  Yes.

“A telegram for him, please.”

Chester opened the message and read: 

“Come to Liverpool in morning.  All well.  Tell me when and where to meet you—­Lucy.”

Chester handed the message to Elder Malby.

“Once more, don’t you see,” said the elder, smiling, “all is well.”

“Yes; yes,” replied Chester in a way which was more of a prayer of thanksgiving than common speech.

Early the following morning Captain Brown was rewarded for his gallant lack of inquisitiveness regarding the sending and the receiving of telegrams by Lucy coming to him with her sweetest smile and saying: 

“Captain Brown, was that horse and carriage you used yesterday yours?”

“Oh no; that belongs to my neighbor—­only when I am not using it.  Do you wish a drive this morning?”

“I want to meet the noon train from London at Lime Street Station; and if it wouldn’t be too much trouble—­”