Too sick at heart to listen to her cousin’s rough words of comfort, Nell wandered up and down the house disconsolately, till at the last her walk brought her to the side-passage leading to the orchard. They had forgotten this third point of attack in their eagerness to save the hall; but here, too, though the door had fallen in, the bare walls and flagged passage had given no hold to the flames, which were burning themselves out harmlessly. Yet the girl went pale as her eyes fell on what the flickering light showed her at the far end of the passage, and she moved forward like one who strives to throw off an evil dream. Crouched above the smouldering wreckage, her hands spread white and slim to the glow, was Mistress Wayne; and she was crooning happily some ballad learned in childhood. She looked up as Nell approached, and smiled, and rubbed her hands gently to and fro across each other. "Barguest was cold, poor beastie, so he lit a fire to warm himself. Is’t not a pretty sight?" she said. Nell bent to her ear. "What of Ned?" she asked. Her voice was tremulous, beseeching, for she knew that such as these had power to read the future. "What of Ned? Will he come back safe to-night?" she repeated. "Safe? Why, yes—he’s kind to me; how should he come to harm?" *CHAPTER XII* *HOW THEY FARED BACK TO WILDWATER* Red Ratcliffe, soon as he had gained the moor, made for the shallow dingle where they had left the horses on their way to Marsh. He found his grandfather standing with one foot in the stirrup, striving vainly to leap to saddle; and he saw that the Lean Man’s face was scarred with fire, and his hands red-raw on the reins. "It has been a hard night for us," said the younger man. The words came dully, with terror unconcealed in them. Nicholas let his foot trail idly from the stirrup, and stumbled as he faced about; but his eye was hawk-like as ever, and his tone as harsh. "A hard night—ay. There’s a long reckoning now ’gainst Shameless Wayne. How comes it that thou rid’st alone?" "Wayne leaped through the fire and cut Robert down; and I——" "Fled, I warrant. What, could ye not meet him two to one?" "There’s witchcraft in it," muttered the other sullenly. "Didst see him fight that day in the kirkyard? Well, last night it was the same; he sweeps two blows in for every one of ours, and his steel zags down like lightning before a man’s eye can teach his hand to parry. I tell you, some boggart fights for the Waynes of Marsh, and always has done." The Lean Man nodded quietly. "Ay, is there—for I’ve seen the boggart.—There, fool, don’t stand gaping at me like a farm-hind at a fair! Help me to saddle, for I am—" he paused, and forced a laugh—"I am weary a little with the ride from Wildwater to Marsh. And lead the chestnut by the bridle; we must find him a fresh master, ’twould seem."