Loverlike, his face grew clouded. "I had thought to comfort thee a little, Nell."
"Nay, Rolf, I would not have thee take it hardly," she whispered, laying a quick hand on his sleeve. "Thou know'st I loved thee—yesterday. To-morrow I shall love thee; but to-night is father's. When Dick Ratcliffe of Wildwater has paid his price, come to me, for I shall need thee, dear."
"Dick Ratcliffe? What is this talk of paying a price, child? Was't Ratcliffe that did it?"
"Ay, and from behind. And they will say 'twas done for the feud's sake; and 'twill be the blackest lie that ever a Ratcliffe told. 'Twas done for fear, Rolf. The woman that father brought home a year agone, the woman I tried to call mother, could not keep true for one poor twelve-month; she met Dick Ratcliffe by stealth in the orchard, and father chanced on them there, and Ratcliffe fled like a hare across the pasture-field, leaving the woman to brave it out. Father swore to kill him, the first fair chance of fight that offered; and he knew it; and he saved himself by a treacherous sword-cut."
"'Tis my right, Nell," said Wayne of Cranshaw, gravely.
She shook her head. It was as bitter to rob a man of honour as of his precedence in fight; yet she could not grant him this. "Thine, if any man's," she said. "But father left the right to me, and before the dawn comes up cold above Wildwater I shall have eased thee of the task."
They stood there in silence. Rolf Wayne was eager to forbid the enterprise, yet fearful of crossing the girl's wild mood at such a time; and no words came to him. And she, for her part, was listening to the gaining shouts of revelry that came from the tavern just below; her brother's voice, thick with wine and reckless jollity, was loudest of all, and she could no longer doubt that Shameless Wayne was there, bettering the reputation that was given him by all the countryside. Wayne of Cranshaw heard it, and looked at the girl, and "Nell," said he, "could not Ned keep sober just for this one night?"
She did not answer, but drew her cloak about her, shivering.
"How the bell shudders, Rolf," she said, as the deep note rang out again and lost itself among the wind-beats.
"Was it thy thought, or his wife's, to bid the bell be rung?" asked Wayne.