Nicholas looked hard at him, and then at Janet, and pondered awhile. The girl's face was white, but she kept her trouble bravely from the old man's glance.
"'Tis well for all maids to have an arm about them now," said Nicholas slowly. "And thou hast played contrips long enough, Janet, with these clumsy-wooing cousins of thine.—Well, so be it. Shameless Wayne is more than the roystering lad we thought him, and if any of you can show wit and strength enough to trap him—why, Janet will have made the best choice among you."
"Is that a bargain, sir?" said Red Ratcliffe, stretching his hand across the board.
The Lean Man took his hand and laughed grimly. "A bargain—but I doubt old Nicholas will be the first among you, now as aforetime. What then, Janet? What if I win my own prize? Why, lass, I'll let none wed thee, but thou shalt play the daughter to me to the end."
All laughed at the grim banter, save Janet, sitting white and cold at her grandfather's side. Once she glanced at Red Ratcliffe, who strove hardily to meet her scorn; and then something of the Lean Man's spirit came to her.
"That shall be a bargain, sir," said she, with a low laugh. "If any kills Shameless Wayne, he shall wed me—but by'r Lady, I think the marriage will not be this year, nor next."
Nicholas half minded to rail at her, thought better of it. "'Twill be within the month, or my word goes for naught; but thou dost well, girl, to mock at them. See Red Ratcliffe glowering at thee there; yet last night he dared not look the Master of Marsh between the eyes."
"I'll look any man between the eyes,—but not when a boggart sits upon his shoulder and strikes for him," growled Red Ratcliffe.
The Lean Man shivered, as if the hall were draughtier than its wont, and rose abruptly. "Come, there's a long day's work to be got through," he said.
All was bustle for awhile, until the men had set out on their usual business of farming or of bringing game home for the larder. The women, after they had gone, stayed to chatter of this and that, and then they, too, went about their work—to the spinning-wheel, the dairy or the kitchen. But Janet, who had always lived apart from the common run of life at Wildwater, stood idly at the wide northward window of the hall, and looked out on the greening waste of moor. "Was not the feud bad enough?" she murmured. "Was there too little stood between Shameless Wayne and me, but this must be added to the rest? God's pity, but they could not have struck at me more cruelly, and Red Ratcliffe knew it when he made the bargain. To be wedded to him who kills Shameless Wayne."