“I’ll see tha blaze before I’ll ask thy help!” Baldwin almost hissed. “Tha’s seen me blaze just now,” returned Maniwel calmly; “or anyway tha’s heard t’ crackle. If a man doesn’t blaze i’ thi comp’ny it isn’t for lack o’ kindling. I’m going now; but I’m sorry for tha from my soul, and tha knows where to turn when tha comes to t’ far end.” He let his eyes rest for a moment on Baldwin who spat disgustedly into the fire, and with a word of farewell to Nancy left the house. On his way home he met Inman returning from the inn. “I fancy you’re wanted,” he said pausing in his walk. “Baldwin’s i’ trouble.” Inman raised his eyebrows, nodded, and sauntered on. CHAPTER XV IN WHICH THE VILLAGERS DISCUSS THE DISASTER NEVER had an unfortunate business man more alert and resourceful adviser than Baldwin found in Inman at this crisis. Promptly, yet with no lessening of deference—nay, with a greater show of it—the mate became captain of the ship and held the helm with a master’s hand. In the inn and elsewhere Inman made light of the disaster. It was hard luck, he admitted; but when a man had plenty left, and had always lived and was content to live, as if he had nothing, there was no need to make a fuss about the loss of a thousand or two. “It’s his heirs who may pull long faces,” he explained lightly; “and he damns them with a good grace, and doesn’t seem quite to know who they are.” Baldwin himself kept indoors, and only his workpeople saw his face and heard his voice, and if both were a trifle sourer the difference was not very marked. Inman, on the other hand, was friendlier and more approachable. He walked with a lighter step, and whistled softly as he worked, to the satisfaction of his master who looked upon these proceedings as a deliberate act of policy on his astute subordinate’s part; and also of the men, who appreciated anything that lightened and sweetened the usually sultry atmosphere of the shop. There was another reason for the master’s gratification, though it was one that was carefully hidden from everybody else, in the circumstance that his foreman’s energies were employed, and with apparently equal zeal, in two directions, one of which was to save the business from wreckage and the other to ensure the discomfiture of the Drakes. This latter object he pursued with an ingenuity and relentless determination that seemed almost superhuman to the slow-witted master, who never chuckled now except when news was brought that another scheme for his competitors’ downfall had hatched out successfully. “He’s nowt i’ my line, isn’t t’ lad,” said Swithin; “and never has been from t’ first night when he stole Jagger’s job fro’ him; but one thing I say and that I stand tul, ’at he’s turned out a rare friend for Baldwin in his time o’ trouble.”