He paused awhile before replying; then, "I have a tryst to keep with Janet Ratcliffe," he said, in a tone that challenged opposition. "A tryst to keep?" echoed Nell, lifting her brows. "How long is’t, Ned, since thou told’st me that was over and done with once for all?" "I told thee truth. The tryst was made when we were free to be lovers,—if we would—but now—dost think I’m minded to forget the blow that sent father where he is?" "Break tryst, Ned?" she pleaded eagerly. "’Tis unsafe, I tell thee, and——" "And thou fearest a pair of hazel eyes will cloud all else for me?" he finished. "Get home to Marsh, lass—and think something better of my manhood." "She’ll conquer him again," Nell muttered after he had left her. "He is mad to keep troth with any Ratcliffe. Well-away, why must Ned always run so close a race with dishonour?" *CHAPTER V* *A LOVE-TRYST* After seeing Mistress Wayne safe into her road and after meeting Red Ratcliffe by the way, Janet made all speed back to Wildwater, lest her grandfather should miss her from the dinner-table. She turned once again as she reached the wicket-gate; and again she looked along the path by which Red Ratcliffe was crossing the moor to Marshcotes. "Christ, how I hate him!" she repeated, and put a hand upon the latch, and went quickly up the garden-path. A haunch of mutton, just taken from the turn-spit, was hissing on the kitchen table as she passed through, and she had scarce time to doff her cloak and smooth her hair a little where the wind had played the ruffler with it, before Nicholas Ratcliffe’s voice came from the dining-hall. "Where’s Janet? Od’s life, these wenches are always late for trencher-service," he cried. "Nay, for I’m here with the meat, grandfather," said Janet slipping into the place at the old man’s side which was hers more by favour than by right. "Where hast been, girl?" he asked sharply. "I wearied of spinning and went out into the fields in search of appetite." "Well, have a care. The times are going to change soon, and ’twill be well for all Ratcliffe women-folk to keep close to home." "For fear of Waynes?" cried a lad from the table-foot, mockingly. "I thought, sir, we knew that they were courteous to foolery with all women. Have you not told us as much a score times?" "Besides, I could not hug the threshold from morn till night; I should die for lack of wind and weather," put in the girl, with a touch of wilfulness that never came amiss to old Nicholas from his favourite one. "There’s truth in that; and I should ill like to see thee go white of cheek, Janet, like yond fool-woman who came to talk with me just now. Have a care, is all I say—and if a Wayne say aight to thee at any time——" "I do not fear any Wayne that steps," said she, her eyes on her plate, and her thoughts on a certain spot of the moors where she had promised to keep tryst with Shameless Wayne that very afternoon.