“Yes,” said Guy, gently; “but that has nothing at all to do with you. That is only a nervous affection, wholly physical. It has no existence whatever for you.”
“But you said you had seen the ghost?”
“I believe,” said Guy, choosing his words carefully, “that I have gone through experiences, not new in our family, and to which our constitutions make us liable. It’s an unusual kind of thing, but there are other cases on record. As to what agency causes these delusions and visions—I use both words advisedly—I am not prepared to say. As to the Waynflete traditions, it is my belief that there is some connection between these experiences and the place where they occur, and the people to whom they happen, somehow, where nerves and Spirit and the hidden forces of Nature meet. I know no more, and I don’t think they’ll fall to your share.”
The definite words, the composed manner steadied Godfrey’s spirit. He had felt the brush of the unseen wings, and he was able to recognise what Guy meant.
“There is something more,” said Guy. “It is under these forms of experience that I have had to resist temptation. Temptation is common to man, but some of us are made so as to know when it tears soul and spirit—yes, and body, asunder. But it’s just as hard, no doubt, for other people to keep their heads above water as for me. But,” he paused and hesitated; then went on in still quieter tones, “whatever men, in all ages and all places, have meant by spiritual experience, what they meant when they said that they were ‘tempted of the devil,’ that I have known, and I know. And I know, also, what they meant when they said that the Lord had delivered them out of his hands. And I thank God for the knowledge, even if it came by fire! Remember that! But as for you, the devil, or what he stands for, would give you just as much trouble in Queensland as here. You’re not married to Jeanie yet, nor even engaged to her. And you promised not to leave me alone with the ghosts.”
Guy’s manner was so reticent and calm that Godfrey hardly grasped at once all the force of what he had said. He leant his head on his hands, and was silent for some minutes. Then he said, not very steadily—
“If I left you now, I should be a deserter. But I nearly did. And you know what I did do—as to you—and what a fool I was at Christmas. Some day I shall knock under.”
“No, you won’t,” said Guy; “you’ll stick to your colours. You’ll stand by me.”
Godfrey nodded; he still sat with hidden face. Guy laid a hand on his shoulder.
“Poor old lad!” he said. “I’d rather fight seven devils, more wicked than the first, than have my angel fail me! But, Godfrey, stick to this. Never mind what the fate or the curse may be. We have to fight it, and, God helping us, we can. And I’ve no reason to suppose that the fight would be over, even if we had cut our throats, and been—gathered to our fathers. If it were, it would be a dirty trick to turn tail and leave the fiends—or the bailiffs—in possession at Waynflete.”