Nell Wayne, prisoned close in the little room at Wildwater which looked out from its narrow, cobwebbed window upon the waste of Ling Crag Moor, watched the sun lower hour by hour—watched him change from white to yellow, from yellow to full sunset red—watched the heath grow gloaming-dim and lighten again at the bidding of the white-faced moon. But still her captors made no sign, and still she was racked with fear lest each moment should bring Ned on a forlorn hope of rescue. The very nearness of the moor, with its far-reaching air of freedom, seemed but an added mockery; yet every now and then she turned anew to the window, and rubbed it freer each time of dust and cobwebs, and looked out eagerly in search of the help that would not come. From time to time she wondered what had chanced to the girl who had made her such fair promises of deliverance; and then she told herself that Janet, after all, had been but mocking her. "’Tis sharp," she murmured, fingering the dagger which Janet had left with her. "There’ll be time, it may be, for two fair strokes—one in Red Ratcliffe’s heart and another in my own. Love of the Virgin, do I care so much for life, when all’s said? The days have not run so smooth of late that I covet more of them." A bat, fluttering unclean out of the pregnant night, swept against the window-pane, startling the girl out of her musings. For a moment it hovered there, and the moonlight showed her its dark wings, its evil head and twinkling, star-bright eyes. "’Tis a vampire," she whispered, crossing herself. "They say the pool breeds such. What if it should break through——" She lost her fanciful terror and turned sharply to the door; for the Lean Man’s voice mingled with Red Ratcliffe’s in the passage without, and her brother’s name was on their lips. "I tell you, sir, Wayne loves the girl," said Red Ratcliffe testily; "he had liefer do himself a wanton hurt than Janet, and ’tis a fool’s bargain to let Nell Wayne go in exchange for her." "And I tell thee, puppy, that thou know’st little of Wayne nowadays. We’ve killed his courtesy, and there’s naught he’ll stick at—naught. I said he would find a way out—I said ’twas useless striving——" "And useless it is like to be if we meet him always in this spirit." "Fool! We have met him all ways—with light hearts and with heavy, with force and guile, with many men and few—Give me the key!" he broke off roughly. "This girl goes scatheless—and for her safer conduct I’ll take her down myself to Marsh." Nell caught her breath as she listened to the voices, raised high in dispute, which spoke to her of safety. Was she mazed with the long confinement, or were the voices real? "Then you are willing, sir, to accept so curt and uncivil a message as Wayne sent hither?" went on Red Ratcliffe, sullenly. "You are willing to give them cause for boasting—ay, and to put your own life in their hands by going to Marsh? The messenger we sent returns not—will Wayne do less to you?"