“I remember very well,” said Winthrop.

“Well sir! —­ the cotton reached Liverpool and was found good for nothing!”

“Literally?”

“Literally, sir! —­ wasn’t worth near the amount of my bills, which of course were returned —­ and Haye has sued me for the rest!”

Rufus’s face looked as if a spark from it might easily have burnt up the whole consignment of cotton, if it had happened to be in the neighbourhood.

“How was the cotton? —­ damaged?”

“Damaged? —­ of course! —­ kept in vaults here till it was spoiled; and he knew it!”

“For what amount has he sued you?” said Winthrop when Rufus had fed his fire silently for a couple of minutes.

“For more than I can pay —­ or will! —­”

“How much does that stand for, in present circumstances?”

“How much?  A matter of several hundreds!”

“How many?”

“So many, as I should leave myself penniless to pay, and then not pay.  You know I lost money down there.”

“I know,” said his brother.

Winifred brought her eyes round to Winthrop; and Winthrop looked grave; and Rufus, as before, fiery; and there was a silence this time of more than two minutes.

“My dependence is on you, Governor,” Rufus said at last.

“I wish I could help you, Will.”

“How can I get out of this scrape?”

“You have no defence in law.”

“But there must be a defence somewhere!” said Rufus drawing himself up, with the whole spirit of the common law apparently within him, energizing the movement.

“The only hope of relief would be in the equity courts.”

“How there?” said Rufus.

Winthrop hesitated.

“A plea of fraud —­ alleging that Mr. Haye has overreached you, putting off upon you goods which he knew to be worthless.”

“To be sure he did!” said Rufus.  “Knew it as well as he does now.  It was nothing but a fraud.  An outrageous fraud!”

Winthrop made no answer, and the brothers paused again, each in his meditations.  Winnie, passing her eyes from one to the other, thought Winthrop looked as if his were very grave.

“I depend upon you, Governor,” the elder brother said more quietly.

“To do what?”

“Why! —­” said Rufus firing again, —­ “to do whatever is necessary to relieve me!  Who should do it?”

“I wish you could get somebody else, Will,” said the other.

“I am sorry I cannot!” said Rufus.  “If I had the money I would pay it and submit to be trodden upon —­ I would rather take it some ways than some others —­ but unhappily necessity is laid upon me.  I cannot pay, and I am unwilling to go to jail, and I must ask you to help me, painful as it is.”

Winthrop was silent, grave and calm as usual; but Winnie’s heart ached to see how grave his eye was.  Did she read it right?  He was silent still; and so was Rufus, though watching for him to speak.