And soon, indeed, there was a rush of feet across the courtyard, a rattle of swords snatched hastily from the scabbard, the hum of many voices. "Peste! The whole swarm has settled in the Marsh hive," muttered Nicholas, glancing doubtfully at Nell. "Was I a fool, then, to trust to the Wayne honour?" "No man has ever repented such folly, sir. If you raise the feud-cry to win peaceable entry, can you grumble that they come out armed to welcome you?" He hesitated, wondering whether to take Nell’s bridle and make a dash for safety. But the gates were flung wide open before he could turn, and Shameless Wayne stood bareheaded in the moonlight, a score of his folk behind him. Wayne stopped on seeing the Lean Man alone with Nell, and his sword, half-lifted, fell trailing to the ground. "Do you come in peace?" he asked. "I come in peace," answered the Lean Man bitterly. "Give me your captive, Wayne of Marsh, and take your sister." "Was this your doing, Nicholas Ratcliffe?" went on the other. "Was it you who carried Mistress Nell to Wildwater?" Nicholas found a sour pleasure in assuming a credit that was not rightly his. "’Twas my doing," he answered hardily. And the Waynes, seeing him stand fearless before the score of them, sent up a low murmur of applause. "Then mark well the oath I swear. By the Brown Dog, I’ll hunt you day and night, and night and day, till I force combat from you. Get ye gone, lean thief, lest I break faith and fall upon you now." "And if Ned fails, then I’ll take on the hunt," cried Rolf Wayne of Cranshaw, stepping forward. The Lean Man cast a scared glance across the courtyard at mention of the Dog. He could see the wide doorway of the house, dark in the mellow moonlight, and he recalled the hour when he had ridden down to fix the badge of feud above the threshold and had unwittingly crossed Barguest as he drove home the nail. A deadly faintness seized him; but the hated folk were watching him, and he forced the weakness off. "Hunt when ye will, and where ye will; I shall be ready," he answered, and led Nell’s horse with great show of ceremony into the yard, and put the bridle into her brother’s hand.—"Now, sir, make good your own half of the bargain." A shadow crossed Wayne’s face, as he turned and moved silently toward the house. Nell would have entered with him, but he checked her roughly. "I have a word for Mistress Janet’s ear," he said. On a sudden the meaning of her unlooked-for escape grew clear to her. Janet had gone of her own free-will to Marsh, and it needed but a glance at Ned’s face to tell her what had followed the girl’s coming. The joy of freedom, her gladness in returning to the home she had scarce looked to see again, died out; she was supplanted, and by one whom it was dishonour for a Wayne to touch. Janet was not in hall, but Wayne found her, after a hurried search, standing at the garden-door, plucking the roses that grew above her head and tearing them to pieces one by one.