"I will, I will!" returned Mrs. Birtwell with prompt assurance.

"Oh, thank you. It's so good of you. My poor girl! I may never see you
again."

The start and glance of fear he now threw across the room revealed to
Mr. Elliott the true condition of their visitor, and greatly alarmed
him. He had never been a witness of the horrors of delirium tremens,
and only knew of it by the frightful descriptions he had sometimes
read, but he could not mistake the symptoms of the coming attack as now
seen in Mr. Ridley, who, on getting from Mrs. Birtwell a repeated and
stronger promise to care for Ethel, rose from the sofa and started for
the door.

But neither Mr. Elliott nor Mrs. Birtwell could let him go away in this
condition. They felt too deeply their responsibility in the case, and
felt also that One who cares for all, even the lowliest and most
abandoned, had led him thither in his dire extremity.

Following him quickly, Mr. Elliott laid his hand firmly upon his arm.

"Stop a moment, Mr. Ridley," he said, with such manifest interest that
the wretched man turned and looked at him half in surprise.

"Where are you going?" asked the clergyman.

"Where?" His voice fell to a deep whisper. There was a look of terror
in his eyes. "Where? God only knows. Maybe to hell."

A strong shiver went through his frame.

"The 'Home,' Mr. Elliott! We must get him into the' Home,'" said Mrs.
Birtwell, speaking close to the minister's ear.

"What home?" asked Mr. Ridley, turning quickly upon her.

She did not answer him. She feared to say a "Home for inebriates," lest
he should break from them in anger.

"What home?" he repeated, in a stronger and more agitated voice; and
now both Mr. Elliott and Mrs. Birtwell saw a wild eagerness in his
manner.

"A home," replied Mr. Elliott, "where men like you can go and receive
help and sympathy. A home where you will find men of large and hopeful
nature to take you by the hand and hold you up, and Christian women
with hearts full of mother and sister love to comfort, help, encourage
and strengthen all your good desires. A home in which men in your
unhappy condition are made welcome, and in which they are cared for
wisely and tenderly in their greatest extremity."

"Then take me there, for God's sake!" cried out the wretched man,
extending his hand eagerly as he spoke.

"Order the carriage immediately," said Mrs. Birtwell to the servant who
stood in the half-open parlor door.

Then she d