"Then we went to the kennels, and found the doors open, and all the dogs but one laid here and there. The white bitch was missing, but she has gone to some quiet corner, likely, to die."
"God's curse on them!" cried Shameless Wayne, getting to his feet. "Why should they fight with the poor brutes when they dare not face their master?"
"'Tis but one more argument," said Rolf quietly. "Come to Cranshaw, Ned; it is witless to forego a plain chance of safety."
"Take Nell and the women-folk, if they will go—but the lads and I stay here while there's a roof to the four walls. Dost think I have not smirched the Marsh pride enough in times past?"
"That's done with, Ned; none doubts thee now, and thou'lt lose naught by seeking a safer dwelling."
"The Lean Man wants me. Well, he knows where to find me. Did father play hide-and-seek, leaving the old place to be burned to the ground, when the feud was up aforetime?"
"He stayed—as thou wilt do," said Nell, her pride undaunted by any ebb and flow of danger.
"But, Nell, 'tis stubbornness—'tis folly—" began Wayne of Cranshaw.
"That may be," answered the girl, "but it is Wayne stubbornness, and I was reared on that. I stay, and Ned stays, and with God's help we'll worst the Lean Man yet."
Shameless Wayne crossed to where his sister sat and laid a hand on her shoulder. "We'll worst him yet, Nell," he said, and turned to leave them to their confidences. "Why, where are the lads gone?" he cried, staring at the open door, through which a gentle breeze was blowing.