For a moment the girl’s eyes clouded and she could not look him in the face. He was so kind to her, so ready to take her part at all times; and she was rewarding his trust in sorry fashion. But that passed as she remembered the Lean Man’s cruelty, his guile, his resolve to do Shameless Wayne to death by any sort of treachery. Was it a time to stand on scruples, when she was fighting, not for her own life, but for another’s? Again her mother-love for Wayne swept over her, touching her fancy with a sense of fine issues that were to be compassed, here and now, by her own unaided wit. "I said, sir, that I was powerless to keep Wayne of Marsh from walking with me," she went on, her voice gaining depth and subtlety as she made forward with the tale that had been shaping itself in her mind all through the long walk home from Hill House; "but I could at the least make him pay for his ill manners in curious coin. _He_ to dare offer marriage to a Ratcliffe! My cheeks were red with shame, as if another man had offered less than marriage; but I would not let him see it. I lured him on, I played with him, I learned all that he had done, or was doing, or was about to do." "God rest thee, lass!" cried the Lean Man, with a boisterous laugh. "Who says thou’rt more or less than a very Ratcliffe? Thou didst lead the poor fool on, then, with a trail of honey? By the Dog, I never loved thee half as well as now.—What, Ratcliffe the Red, thou lookest moody! The old man was not fond enough to stomach any wild tale thou didst bring to him?—Well, girl, what didst learn from Wayne?" "That he was going to Bents Farm, to see that some repairs were rightly done." "Ay, it tallies," murmured Nicholas.—"Go on, Janet; we knew as much as that." "But did you know, sir, that Wayne had somehow learned your purpose? He was to have gone on Thursday——" "Did he tell thee that, or was it I?" broke in Red Ratcliffe. "Hark ye, grandfather! I let slip to her this morning the tale of what we meant to do, and she uses it now for her own ends." "Peace, sirrah! I have a long account to square with thee, and a quiet tongue may keep thee from adding to the reckoning. Didst let the tale slip? The more fool thou, when I had bidden thee speak of it to no man. Haply ’twas from thee that Wayne of Marsh learned what we have in mind?" "It matters little, as it chances, whether Wayne knows or not," said Janet. "He will go on Friday, sir, at noon, instead of on Thursday; for he told me as much, laughing to think how easily he could outwit you." "Haply the last laugh will be mine," said Nicholas grimly. "Didst learn how many of his folk he meant to bring with him? Being warned, he will not go alone, I warrant." "Nay, he professed to be a match for any four of you," answered the girl, a spice of the Ratcliffe devilry leading her to garnish her story with needless detail, "but for prudence sake, he said, he would take some two or three with him."