"Ned is right," put in Rolf; "we will go to the lyke-wake, and if the feud is to be staunched above his body, there’ll many a wife go happier to bed than she has done since the spring came in." Nell held out against them still; but they overruled her, and one by one the malcontents agreed to follow the counsel of those they counted as their leaders. "He’ll not last through the day, so Janet told me," said Shameless Wayne. "Best come with me to Marsh forthwith, and wait the messenger." "So thou’lt marry this daughter of the Ratcliffes?" said Nell, as she stood at the gate and watched her brother get to horse. "God willing, Nell—and one day thou wilt love her near as much as I." "Nay, I have done with loving. Ride on, Ned, and if they tell thee I have cared for thee—why, say they lie." He touched his horse and rode slowly out; and all the way to Marsh his thoughts were busy with this sister’s love that would fain have kept him close in prison. It was not the feud only then, that warped her nature. _I have done with loving_, she had said; and dimly he understood that even her husband had no place beside him in her heart. "Od’s life, these women! Who framed them at the start?" he muttered, as he gained the steep down-hill that led to Marsh. And then he remembered little Mistress Wayne, and wondered if she had rid her of the needless fears which had driven him out this morning in search of Janet. But his step-mother had left Marsh House and was already nearing the lane-top that took her to the moors. All morning she had wandered from room to room, from house to courtyard, to see if Ned were coming home. Why had she listened to her dreams, she asked herself? Why told him how Janet had stood on the verge of Wildwater Pool, entreating help? Visions might play her false and had done as much a score of times. Yet—what of Barguest? He at least was real; he at least— She put her hands against the gate to steady herself, and looked up the lane; for the sound of pattering feet was in her ears once more, and there was a coldness in the wind more shrewd than any that blew off the moors. And not only the sound of feet, and icy, upward moving breeze—for a dun and shaggy-coated hound crept out of the empty road, and swung up toward the heath. Mistress Wayne halted no longer now. There were many who had heard the Dog in Marshcotes, but none save she to whom he showed himself. It must be as she feared; Ned was in peril at Wildwater, and the Dog was leading her to him. Not once did she halt to ask what service she could render him; it was enough that he was in danger, and that Barguest sought her aid.