"Mistress, ye’ve getten th’ second-sight," she said softly, putting an arm about Mistress Wayne. "God rest ye, for ye’ll stand ’twixt Shameless Wayne and trouble one day. Mistress Nell has done it, an’ I’ve done it, an’ so will ye, sooin or late; an’ yourn ’ull be th’ greatest help of all, for ye’ve seen th’ Dog, while we’ve nobbut heard th’ patter of his feet." *CHAPTER XIV* *HOW WAYNE AND RATCLIFFE MET AT HAZEL BRIGG* The days had gone heavily for Janet since the Lean Man made his bargain with the Ratcliffe men-folk. Fear for Shameless Wayne mingled with the dread that she would be forced into hasty wedlock with one of her cousins; and each day that passed brought nearer home to her the grim irony which had set Wayne’s life as the price of her own hand. Then, too, she had no trust in Red Ratcliffe, now that he knew her secret, and scarce a day passed but he pressed his suit home with threats of telling all to old Nicholas Ratcliffe. Trouble, indeed, seemed closing in on Wildwater during those bitter days of sun and snow and northeast winds, which, if they had dealt hardly with the low-lying lands, had swept over these upland wastes with swift and pitiless ferocity. The Lean Man was failing, body and mind, in some strange way which the girl could not understand: for a day or two he would be hard and keen as ever, and then, suddenly as if he had been stricken by some unseen blade, the life would go out of him, and he would watch his own shadow fearfully, shunning the eyes of his kin until the fit had passed. Janet was fond of her grandfather, so far as she could reconcile such fondness with her love for Shameless Wayne, and it added the last touch of disquiet to see him under the spell of what she could not but name witchcraft. Once he had come home from Marshcotes—the same day it was which had brought him across Mistress Wayne’s path as she went to heal Bet Earnshaw’s child—and his eyes had met Janet’s with a dumb appeal for sympathy. He had all but made confession to her then touching this spell which lay upon him; but the mood had passed, as others had passed before it, and the days wore on, from storm to calm, from calm to full break of spring, without a word from him that could give her any clue to the nature of his sickness. This morning, as they sat at breakfast, Nicholas was in gay spirits and very full of what must be done here and done there about the land. "Spring’s here at last, and we must make the most of it, lads," he cried. "Did Earnshaw bring any men with him to do the walling?" "Ay, sir, he brought six as shiftless as himself," laughed Red Ratcliffe. "Well, there’s a cure for shiftlessness, and I’ll ride that way this morning.—Janet, ’tis a twelve-month and a day since we had plovers’ eggs for breakfast, and they’ll be breeding now. Thou art fond of wandering abroad to no purpose; wilt take as kindly to it if I bid thee carry a basket on thy arm?"