Shameless Wayne: A Romance of the last Feud of Wayne and RatcliffeSutcliffe, Halliwell
General
Shameless Wayne: A Romance of the last Feud of Wayne and Ratcliffe
Sutcliffe, Halliwell
Scotland -- Social life and customs -- Fiction; Vendetta -- Fiction
"Not again," he said, his arm dropping lifeless to his side. "There’s no
peace along that road when once—God curse the girl! I have said nay,
and will say it to the fiftieth time; why should she haunt me like my
own shadow?"
He looked at Rolf, slumbering deep by the hearth; and he laughed sourly
to think that one man could sleep while another moved heavy-footed with
his troubles across the creaking boards. He sat down again, and watched
his cousin listlessly; and little by little his own head dropped
forward, and his eyes closed, and Janet and he were wandering, a dream
boy and dream girl, up by the grey old kirkstone that kept watch over
lovers’ vows among the rolling wastes of heath.
He stirred uneasily, and Rolf’s voice came vaguely to him from across
the hearth. "Get up, Ned! The hall is full of smoke—the flames are
whistling up the house-side——"
"Where’s the little bairn? She must be looked to. Nell has wit enough
to save herself," said Shameless Wayne sleepily.
Wayne of Cranshaw shook him to his feet. "They’ve fired the door! Get
out thy sword, Ned, and step warily."
Ned was full awake by now; and as he rushed to the main door, his
thoughts were neither of himself nor Nell, but of the house that had
weathered fire and flood and tempest through a half-score generations of
Waynes.
"The flames sing from without. There’s no fire inside as yet. We can
save the old place still," he cried, swinging back the heavy cross-beam
that bolted the door.
"Stop, thou fool!" said the other, checking him. "Dost think the trap
is not set plain enough, that thou should’st go smoke-blinded on to a
Ratcliffe sword-point? We must try the side door leading to the
orchard."
But Nell was downstairs by this time, with Mistress Wayne close behind
her. "Ned, the kitchen-door’s a-blaze, and the orchard door," she
gasped—"and see—the oak is beginning to crack yonder, for all its
thickness."
Shameless Wayne threw off his cousin’s grasp, and drew the staples and
turned the cumbrous key. The sweat stood on his forehead, and iron and
wood alike were blistering to the touch. He jerked the door wide open,
and over the threshold a live, glowing bank of peats fell dumbly on to
the floor-boards. He strove to cross into the open, but could not; and
athwart the red-blue reek he saw the Lean Man’s eyes fixed steadfastly
on his.
"God’s mercy, this is what Barguest came to tell thee of," said Mistress
Wayne, standing ghost-like and strangely undismayed in the lurid light.
"What, thou saw’st him!" cried Nell, her eyes widening with a terror no
power of will could stifle. "Ned, keep back! Keep back, I say!— Ah!"
as he tried to cross the flames and fell back half-blinded—"thanks to
Our Lady that they lit so hot a fire."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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