"It must be so—and, Ned, we’ve happiness to thank him for. His message was that, soon as he is dead, you are to come with your folk to wake beside the body. My kinsmen are rough, Ned, but they know grandfather’s wish, and when ye stand beside the bier with them, be sure the thought of death will soften them to the truce." "I promised him as much a week since, and I’ll keep faith, dear lass—for thy sake, if for no other." "Yet he fears the Cranshaw Waynes will still hold back. Ned, canst make sure of them? ’Tis his last wish, and I would not have him thwarted.—And now, dear, fare thee well. I dare not be away from Wildwater, lest he be wanting aught, or—lest he die, Ned, without my hand in his." Wayne turned about. "I’ll ride to Hill House now, and then to Cranshaw. They shall come with me, Janet; trust me to persuade them." "Ned! ’Twill be—’twill be to-night, I think. To look at him, he cannot live through the day." "Then to-night shall find us ready.—Why, child, what is’t?" She brushed the quick-rising tears away. "Naught—’twas naught—only, Ned, I’ve no friend in the world but thou when grandfather has gone." She was gone with that, and Wayne, after seeing her gallop into the mists, turned his mare’s head and made across the moor to Hill House, where he told them of the Lean Man’s message and the nearness of his end. Some were in favour of the truce, others refused to abandon their settled mistrust of Nicholas Ratcliffe; and last of all they rode with him to Cranshaw, there to take counsel of the Long Waynes. At Cranshaw it was the same; some were on Shameless Wayne’s side, others were hot against his plan; and Nell herself was the first to resist his counsel. "It seems the Lean Man’s dying wish is more to thee than father’s," she cried; "but, for my part, I can hear no talk of peace for the cry that rings day-long in my ears. No quarter, Ned—dost mind the cry?" "We have followed it far enough," he answered. "Has wedlock taught thee so little, Nell, that peace shows not worth the gaining?" "As I told thee,—neither wedlock nor aught else can wipe one picture out." "Well, I for one, Nell, am fain to see the end of all this blood-letting," cried her husband. "And art thou fain," she answered bitterly, "to see him wedded to this Ratcliffe girl?" "Ay, even that I’d welcome, though ’tis not long since I thought ill of it. But it should help to heal the feud—and, besides, they say she is no Ratcliffe in her honesty." "Have it as ye will. Mistress Janet is leagued with her kin, doubtless—but men do not believe these matters when their logic is a bonnie face." "Mistress Janet is well enough; all the moorside has a kindly word for her," put in one of the Waynes of Hill House; "but what if the Lean Man has not done yet with his accursed trickeries?" "Then we are armed, and in full force," said Shameless Wayne. "Would the Lean Man have bidden all of us to the feast, think’st thou, if he had meant trickery?"