"’Twas at dusk this afternoon, Nanny," she began afresh. "Father came riding up to the gate on the bay mare, and I was going to meet him, with a kiss for the rider and a coaxing word for the mare, when Dick Ratcliffe came galloping along the cross-road. He checked when he saw father, and swerved into the Marsh bridle-track and then—then, before I could cry out, before I could know him for a Ratcliffe in the gathering dusk, he had drawn his sword, and lifted it, and struck. I ran to help, and father reeled in the saddle. Nurse, I cannot shut out the picture; I cannot——" "Nor seek to; hold fast to it, Mistress—there’s no luck i’ forgetting pictures sich as yond. Dick Ratcliffe war off an’ away, I warrant, sooin as his blow war struck?" "Nay, for what could even he fear from one poor girl who had never a weapon to her hand? He watched with a smile on his face while I took father’s head in my lap and bent to hear his last hard-won words. ’Nell, tell our kinsmen ’twas a foul blow. Wipe it out, lass; give no quarter.’ That was what he said to me, Nanny; and all the while Dick Ratcliffe mocked us, till I got to my feet and cursed him; and then he rode away laughing. And I swore by the Brown Dog that father should not wait long for vengeance." The little old woman forgot no stroke of the bell; but the knitting fell on her lap, and she lifted a face as stern as Nell’s own. "Your father’s lass," she cried. "Put tears behind ye, an’ keep your hate as hot as hell-fire, an’ let th’ sun set on ’t ivery neet, an’ rise on ’t ivery morn, till th’ Ratcliffes hev paid their reckoning, three for one. Eh, dearie, if I hed your arms, if I hed a tithe o’ your strength, ’tis out I’d go wi’ ye this minute to begin the reaping—to begin the reaping." The wind was fluting eerily about the belfry-chamber. The rushlight made strange shadows up and down the walls, and the cobwebs floated like grey ghosts. "Hark!" whispered Nell Wayne, bending her ear toward the grating. "Didst hear that voice in the wind, nurse?" "Ay; ’twas the Brown Dog’s howl; he’s noan minded to let ye forget, ’twould seem, an’ them as once swears by him can niver rest, day or neet." "’Tis not the first time to-day, Nanny. Thou know’st Barguest Lane that runs behind Marsh House? He bayed there for a long hour this afternoon, and I was sick for father’s coming lest ill should have chanced to him. Once for a death, and twice for the slayer’s shrift—hast heard the saying, nurse?" There was a grewsome sort of joy in the girl’s voice. "I’ve heard th’ saying, Mistress, an’ I’ve heard Barguest, what some calls th’ Guytrash—but niver hev I known th’ deathsome beast howl for nowt." Nell moved quickly to the door; it seemed she had gained resolution from the baying of the spectre hound. "Why am I loitering here, Nanny?" she cried. "The Brown Dog calls, and I must go. Father will lie lighter if——"