The storm was let loose now. The Long Waynes of Cranshaw had their say, and the Waynes of Hill House; Griff and his brothers watched from their corner, with eager faces that showed how they were spoiling for a fight. The Lean Man’s name flew hither and thither through the clamour; none doubted that the plot was his, and they cursed him by the Brown Dog of Marsh. Shameless Wayne stood aloof from all until the din had lessened; and when at last he spoke his voice was rough and hard. "Waynes, are ye ready for the lyke-wake? ’Tis time we got to saddle," he said. "Art mad?" cried one. "Is the warning to go for naught, that we should put our necks into so trim a noose?" "Let be, Ned. Wildwater is no good drinking-house for us," said another. "Would’st ride thy luck till it floundered?" snarled a third. Shameless Wayne beckoned to his four brothers. "Come hither, lads," he said quietly. They came and ranged themselves about him, facing the noisy throng. "Will ye ride with me to Wildwater?" he asked. "Ay, if thou mean’st to fight," answered Griff. And, "Ay, will we!" cried the rest. "Then saddle.—Who goes with us?" he went on, turning to his kinsfolk. They glanced at each other, angrily, sheepishly. If Griff and his stripling brothers were fain to follow this bog-o’-lanthorn chase, could they hold back? "Think twice about it, Ned, and keep thy strength to meet them in the open," said one of the Long Waynes of Cranshaw. "I go, and the lads go, whoever follows.—Hark ye, Waynes! These swine have fooled us; they have twice broken hospitality—once in drinking with me here, and once in offering us a friendly cup at Wildwater. Will our sword’s rest light in the scabbard, think ye, if we hold back for one single day?" "Ned is right," struck in Wayne of Cranshaw; "and we shall take them at unawares. They count us unprepared. The first blow will be ours." He crossed to his cousin’s side, and others with him; and those who still thought the enterprise foolhardy could not for shame’s sake stand aloof. "Waynes," said Ned grimly, as they clattered to the door, "they think us over-gentle, these Ratcliffes; but to-night, I warrant, we’ll be something better than our reputation. _Kill_." "By the Mass, we shall see fair sport at last!" cried Griff, his face afire with eagerness. Mistress Wayne laid a hand on Ned’s arm as he was following the rest. "I—I want to come with thee," she faltered. "To come with me?" he cried impatiently. "Thou look’st fitter for thy bed, foolish one." "Say it is fancy—only take me. I’ll not fear the bloodshed—I’ll not give one cry—take me, Ned!" "But, bairn, what should I do with thee?" "Hast heard what they say in Marshcotes—that I am thy luck, Ned? Thou’lt win to-night if I am near at hand." He reasoned with her, stormed at her, all to no purpose; for the little woman could be obstinate as himself when she believed that his safety was in case.