For a moment they stood and looked at one another; and no Wayne had ever crossed sword more hotly with a Ratcliffe than these two women of either house crossed glances. For theirs was no chance feud, bred by a quarrel as to precedence in sheep-washing; it was the age-old feud that lies heart-deep between woman and woman, the feud that hisses into flame whenever love for the one man blows on the smouldering fire. "You come to mock me, doubtless," said Nell at last. "_That_ would be to mock my own pride, Mistress. I came with quite other thoughts." "I am honoured that the lady of the house sees fit—in a late hour, perchance—to give welcome to her guest." "Lower your voice, I beg. There’s a pair of sharp ears at the door, and what I have to say will not bear listening to.—Hark ye, Mistress! I am going to pluck you out of this, and quickly." "How, you? I do not understand—I——" "Nay, ’tis for no love of you I do it, but because they mean to use you as a lure to bring your brother up to Wildwater." Nell lost a little of her upright carriage. "Is that why they brought me here?" she asked slowly. "For that—and with a thought of their own pleasure, doubtless, afterward. Shall I save your brother, Mistress, or will it defile him to owe safety to such as me?" Nell turned to the window again, and did not answer for a space. Then, "Go," she whispered faintly—"but I would God it had been any one but you." "And _I_ would God I might save him alone, leaving you to nurse your pride in a cold lap. But fate is hard, Mistress, and compels us to travel over the same bridge; ’twould be well to hold your skirts, lest I touch them by the way." "Go, go! Say I wronged you—say anything, so only you keep Ned out of danger." Despite herself, Janet could not but mark how little this girl thought of her own safety, how much of the brother who, at worst, had only life to lose. "I shall have to leave you here awhile. Have you no fear?" she asked. "None, save that Ned will knock at the gates while you stand dallying here." Janet turned to the door, then faced about, her bitterness craving a last word. "Remember, whether I lose or win, that ’twas all for Ned I did it. I would have seen you shamed, and gladdened at it." Some hidden softness slipped into the other’s voice. She had endured suspense and misery, and now that help had come she weakened at the thought of peril. "Nay," she whispered, "you are a woman as I am, Mistress, and you know, as I know, how frail is the casket in which we keep our jewels. For love of her that bore you, you could never have looked on gladly and seen——" Janet glanced curiously at her. "You are right," she flashed, taking a dagger from her breast. "Mistress, I would have fought for you, had blows been needful. Take this, and if any troubles you while I’m away—why, you know how to use it. Only, strike for the heart next time, if you are wise."