Shameless Wayne was likewise looking at the blackened walls, and Rolf saw that same light in his eyes that had been there when he stood at the vault-edge, and bade them bury alive the fallen Ratcliffes. Nell, too, was watching him, and she, who had never before feared him, knew now that there were deeps and under-deeps in her brother’s nature which she had yet to plumb. "What art thinking, Ned?" she asked, laying a timid hand on his sleeve. "Thinking?" he said slowly. "I’m thinking that Marsh was all but blotted out—and I am learning how I loved the place. Keep guard awhile here, Rolf. I have an errand that will take me to the moors." "Lad, thou’rt fay!" cried Wayne of Cranshaw, as his cousin moved toward the door. "Dost mean to seek the Lean Man out?" Shameless Wayne turned and smiled in curious fashion. "Nay, only to leave a message for him on the road ’twixt this and Wildwater." "Oh, Ned, I know what ’tis!" cried his sister, with sudden intuition. "For God’s sake, dear, leave that to the Ratcliffes; it is not—not seemly to tamper with the dead." She pointed across the black remnants of the peats that strewed the threshold, and shuddered knowing what lay so close against the house-wall there. Wayne flashed round on her, and the four lads, listening awe-struck from the far-end of the hall, shrank further back to hear the clear bitterness of voice he had. "All shall be seemly henceforth—all, I say! I’ll hunt the Lean Man as he hunts me—ay, and his tokens shall be mine. Hark ye, Nell! We’re over soft, we Waynes— Come here, lads," he broke off, beckoning to his brothers. Griff came and stood before him, the others following slowly. "Yes, Ned?" he asked, breaking a hard silence. "Ye were fools to stand up to Red Ratcliffe as I saw you do to-night. They would never do the like." "Was’t not well done, then?" said the lad, the corners of his mouth drooping. Wayne laughed exceeding softly. "Ay, ’twas done as I would have you do it. God rest you, youngsters, and when your turn comes to hold the weapons—strike deep and swift." He was gone without another word, and Nell looked at Wayne of Cranshaw in search of guidance. Rolf shook his head. "As well dam Hazel Beck with straws as stop Ned when the black mood is on him," he said. They heard him stop just outside the door, then clank across the courtyard; and soon the sound of hoof-beats was dying down the chill breeze that rustled from the moors.