After the lapse of nearly a quarter of an hour, Billy crept back to the door, and lifting the latch quietly, whispered to his wife, “Is the passon gone?”

“No, Billy,” I said, “here I am.  Come in out of the wet.  I am so glad you have come back.”

“What d’yer want with me?” he inquired.  “I want to talk to you about your soul.  I have been thinking much about you lately, Billy.  They call you a ‘lost soul.’”

“What’s that to you?”

“Ah, a great deal,” I said, “because I have a message for lost people.  I am not a doctor for the body; my business is about the soul.”

“I ain’t so bad as all that yet,” he replied.

“But you are bad enough, Billy—­bad enough.”

“Yes, indeed,” interposed his wife.

“You hold yer tongue; you’re no better.”

I beckoned to her to be still, and went on to say, “You are bad enough, Billy, for an old man.  How old are you?”

“Up seventy years.”

“Seventy years!” I repeated.  “Well, now, that’s a great age—­that’s the age of man.  Threescore years and ten!  It is like giving you notice to give up the keys of the old tabernacle.  I wonder why God spares your life?  I am afraid you have been a cumberer of the ground all this time, Billy.  Do you know why the good Lord has spared you for so long?”

“I can’t tell,” he said, getting more and more impatient.

“Well, do you know, I think I can tell you.  He is such a loving and merciful God, He wants to have mercy on you.  You could not have greater proof of it, could you?  You set a horribly bad example; you do nothing but drink, and smoke, and swear.  You have asked God to damn your soul over and over again, and yet here you are still.  Why is this?”

He did not answer, but seemed interested; so I went on to speak of the forbearance of God towards him.  I said, “Billy, do you know that I think the Lord wants to have mercy on you?  He wants to save you!” As he listened, I went on to tell him that God loved him, and gave His Son to die for him.  Then I proceeded to speak of the wonderful patience and long-suffering of God—­a kind of crown upon His love; and what a shame it was to sin against such love as this.

Poor Billy looked at me with tears in his eyes, and said, “You are a dear man!”

“Dear man!” I answered.  “What, then, is God, if I am ‘dear’ only for telling you of His love?  Ah, Billy, take and give your heart to God at once.  He is waiting for you.  It is a shame to refuse such a God.”

I knelt down and began to pray for him.  He soon fell on his knees too, and sobbed aloud; then he commenced to pray in his own way.  He needed much teaching, so when he rose from his knees I said to him, “Now, Billy, I have been to see you; it is your turn to some and see me next.  When will you come?”

“This afternoon,” he said.  “Very good; come this afternoon.”  And he did.  More than that, this poor “lost soul” found peace in my study, to his great joy; and he was not ashamed to acknowledge it openly, nor afraid to praise God for His great goodness.