"That may be," answered the girl, "but it is Wayne stubbornness, and I was reared on that. I stay, and Ned stays, and with God’s help we’ll worst the Lean Man yet." Shameless Wayne crossed to where his sister sat and laid a hand on her shoulder. "We’ll worst him yet, Nell," he said, and turned to leave them to their confidences. "Why, where are the lads gone?" he cried, staring at the open door, through which a gentle breeze was blowing. "They feared to miss their sport if they asked leave a second time," said Rolf, "and so they slipped away while thy back was turned to them." "Young fools!" muttered Shameless Wayne, as he went out. "Could they not keep to home when those who strew hemlock privily are within pistol-shot?—I’ll walk round the yard and outbuildings, Rolf, and see if aught else has gone amiss." "Hadst better have company," said Wayne of Cranshaw, moving to his feet. "Nay. The times are hard for love-making; take thy chance while thou hast it, Rolf, or it may not come again." Rolf looked after him, and wondered at his bitterness. But Nell, remembering Janet Ratcliffe, knew well enough which way her brother’s thoughts were tending, and she sighed impatiently. "’Tis well to love by kinship," she said. Rolf missed her meaning, being full of his own fears for her. "I’ve loved thee well, dear, and I fear to lose thee," he said, after a silence. "Wilt wed me out of hand and let me take thee safe to Cranshaw?" "Not yet, Rolf. I cannot." Her voice was low; but he gleaned scant hope even from its tenderness. "Think," he urged. "It is hard to have waited for the good day—waited through summer heat and winter frost, Nell—and then to see such danger lying on the threshold as may rob me of my right in thee. Thou know’st these Ratcliffe swine; a woman’s honour is cheap as a man’s life to them. Lass, give me the right to have thee in keeping day and night." "Some day, Rolf—but not yet." "Thou hast scant love for me, or none at all," he flashed, pacing moodily up and down the hall. "That is not true, Rolf, and thou know’st it; but I have love for the old home, too, and love for Ned. I’m young, dear, as years go, but there’s none save me to mother them at Marsh. What would Ned do, what would the lads do, if I left them to fight it out alone? And Ned"—she faltered a little—"Ned is very new to repentance, and who knows how the wind would shift if he had none to care for him?" "He would follow thee to Cranshaw—where I would have him be." "Nay, but he would not! If he stood alone, without a sword to his hand, he would wait here for what might come." Still he pleaded with her, and still she held to her resolve. And at last he gave up the struggle. "None knows what the end will be, but we must win through it somehow," he said. And then, her object gained, she crept close to his embrace, and, "Rolf," she whispered, "how can Ned fight the Lean Man and all his folk? Is it true that he is the first victim chosen?"