Cuthbert laid his hand on the fingers that were clutching the arm of the chair, and said gently, "I am very glad you have told me. You'll feel better soon. It is very bad for you to suffer without any help." Guy clung to the warm, human clasp, it was unexpectedly comforting. Then he whispered, "I don't drink, you know, _yet_. But he'll drive me to it. He's ruining my life!" Cuthbert did not speak for some moments. Then he said, "Of course, there is more than one view to be taken of these things." "Oh yes, I might be mad--or lying." "Well, I don't feel driven to those conclusions. Do you mind being questioned a little?" "No; I think I should like it. I've felt so much alone." "Yes. You feel more afraid of the terror that seizes on you unexpectedly, than of the--thing itself?" "Yes," said Guy, hesitating; "at least, I mind _feeling_ he is there, more than seeing him. That's a detail." "Try to tell me what you mean by _feeling_." "I can't. It's another sense." "And do you feel nothing else with this sense?" "No," said Guy, decidedly. "Nothing. And, many things that I could like--" "Yes. Try and tell me. I think I shall understand." "Yes; oh, you're so kind. I've always felt he never would come where you were. Some people fret me, even in the next room. But, music now-- that might lift one away from him, but he stops it; he always stops what I care most for. I could bear it, but my body won't; that betrays me." "Yes, that wants careful looking to. Now, my boy, try and tell me what your own view of the matter is. What you think most likely to be true about it." Guy looked up with pitiful puzzled eyes. "Ask me more questions," he said. "Ever read up the subject?" "No, I began; but I daren't--" "You feel sure it is something besides your own nerves?" "Yes." "Something or somebody outside yourself?" "Outside myself? I don't know that." Guy suddenly caught Cuthbert's hand again and pressed it hard against his forehead, as if to steady his brain. Then he spoke more clearly. "I don't know if what comes over me is my ancestor himself, or the fiend that tempted him, or my own worst self. As for the vision, I'm not so much afraid of _that_." "Then what you want is to be able to resist this influence?" "Yes, before it ruins me, body and soul." "Well, you must let me think it over. Depend upon it, I'll not leave you alone to fight the battle. Now, you'll sleep to-night?" "Oh yes, I am not frightened now," said Guy, simply. "Well then, we'll go to bed, and talk it over again to-morrow. But you must come up to town with me and see a doctor, you need only tell him that your nerves have had a shock. But I wouldn't avoid the general subject. Such experiences are not altogether exceptional." "Nervous affections, in fact," said Guy, dryly.