Shameless Wayne: A Romance of the last Feud of Wayne and Ratcliffe — John Shaqi
Shameless Wayne: A Romance of the last Feud of Wayne and RatcliffeSutcliffe, Halliwell
General
Shameless Wayne: A Romance of the last Feud of Wayne and Ratcliffe
Sutcliffe, Halliwell
Scotland -- Social life and customs -- Fiction; Vendetta -- Fiction
"Why, good. They clapped hands up yonder when I told them what
Shameless Wayne was doing while his cousin fought for him."
The lad reddened, but he would show no other sign of hurt. "There are
two chances come to every man in his lifetime," he said slowly, "and I
have lost but one. Get off your horse, and we’ll talk with a weapon
that comes handier than the tongue."
Ratcliffe looked down the rough slope of the moor, thinking to ride in
at his enemy and strike at vantage; but the ground was full of bog-holes
and no horse could cross with safety. "Nay," he answered; "when I fight
with you, Wayne of Marsh, there shall be no girl to come between the
fight—nor a farm-hind to help thee with his spade."
"You need not fear them, sir," laughed Wayne—"though, now I think of it,
old Hiram yonder would be a better match for such bravery as yours."
The other winced, but would not be goaded into fight; and there he
showed himself a Ratcliffe—for his race was wont to measure pride by
opportunity, and when they fought they did it with cool reckoning of the
odds in favour of them.
"Wilt try the issue with my sister, then, if Hiram seems too good for
thee?" mocked Wayne. "She can grip a sword-hilt on occasion, and——"
"She may have need to by and by," snapped Red Ratcliffe, pointing to the
dead man with the hand which held the bridle of the second horse. "This
morning I carried news to the Lean Man, and now I am bearing proof of
it—and weighty proof, ’od rot me, as I found when lifting him to saddle.
An eye for an eye, Wayne of Marsh—fare ye well, and remember that an old
tree we know of will bear red blossoms by and by."
Wayne made a few steps up the slope, but the horseman was already rising
to the trot and pursuit was useless. "Come, Nell," he said; "blows would
come easiest, but it seems I’ve to learn patience all in one hard
lesson."
Hiram Hey whetted his hands, soon as he was alone again, and began to
fill his cart. And many a slow thought ripened as he worked, though he
gave voice to none until Jose the shepherd returned from carrying his
lamb to the home farm, and rested his arms as before on the fence, and
gave Hiram the "Well?" which prefaced every interval of gossip.
"Begow, but I’ve learned summat, Jose, sin’ tha wert here," said Hiram
slowly.
"That’s a lot for thee to say, lad. I’ve thowt, time an’ time, ’at ye’d
getten nowt left to learn," responded the other, with lazy irony.
"Well, ’tis a rum world, an’ thick wi’ surprises, for me as for ony
other man. Who’d hev thowt, Jose, ’at th’ young Maister ’ud up an’ gi’e
me a talking-to, fair as if he war his father, an’ me set to liming a
field for th’ first time?—I tell thee, I war so capped I hedn’t a
blessed word to answer him wi’—though I’ve thowt of a dozen sin’ he
left."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account