"She has set us on our legs," Guy went on; "but the place is a sink of wickedness, and poverty-stricken into the bargain. I have had letters from Clifton, and I know. Now, I've come to see that it's no good saving my own skin, or my own soul either, while that's the case. We have got really to restore Waynflete, but I can't do it alone. If I get too bad, in mind or body, to carry on the business, it would have to be sold, and then _He_--No, stop. I love the very breath of the air of it! Why, Godfrey, we should be contemptible scoundrels to give in while there's breath in our bodies, or sense in our brains." Godfrey still sat silent. If Guy was handicapped, how heavily had he handicapped himself! Still, devotion to his brave old aunt's purpose, the inheritance which, after all, was bred in his bone, began to stir within him. He got up and held out his hand. "I'll help," he said hoarsely. Guy's hand, all bones and blue veins, met the firm muscular fingers in an equally vigorous clasp. "That's good!" he said. "We'll do it." "But, Guy," said Godfrey, after a silence, "you know, if I'd known about it, I never would have left you alone with a ghost--never!" Guy laughed. "Never mind that now," he said. "Go down to the mill, and get John Henry Cooper to tell you how things are. He's made of just as sound stuff as his father, and is a good deal sharper. We'll pull round. But you must get your hand in. Some one must be able to go about and investigate openings and offers, and I can't at present. As for Jeanie, you'd better let that slide, I should say, for a bit. Old Mat won't be very encouraging, when he knows how it is with us." Godfrey went to the mill, and heard John Henry Cooper's business statements almost in silence. Then he said-- "I am here now to do what Mr Guy is not strong enough to manage. He will direct everything." "Ay, sir, so best; you'll not better Mr Guy's notions of business requirements; but it's nothing but your place to do your utmost for the business," said Cooper, composedly. As Godfrey went back to his brother, it struck him how strange it was that the two narratives to which he had just listened should apply to the same person, that the sharp, keen struggle for success in life, and the awful mystical combat with an unknown power, should hang on the same indomitable will. "Guy," he said, "it's all right. Cooper's going to show me about wool samples to-morrow, and--and--I wish you'd let me black your boots for you!" "If you like," said Guy, with his odd little smile. "You shall do all the dirty work for me. There's plenty of it in a mill." PART THREE, CHAPTER TWO. "A LITTLE HINT--A MYSTIC FLASH." "Mill House, Ingleby,-- "December 27th. "Dear Miss Vyner,--