But the Lean Man, quiet on the bier where he had gibed at death, paid little heed to them. The feud was stanched between Wayne and Ratcliffe; yet he had never a word to say, of protest or of sorrow. The feud was stanched; yet Mistress Wayne, while she plucked at the dead man's shroud as if to claim his notice, was sobbing piteously.
"My lover waits me at the kirkyard gate," she faltered; "but I dare not pass the vault-stone. Sir, it drips crimson as the sun that lately set behind Wildwater Pool. And hark! There's Barguest whining down the wind."
The rain still fell without. The clouds came thickening up above the house of Wildwater. And far off across the moor a whining, comfortless and long-drawn-out, fluttered on the brink of silence.
THE END
*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SHAMELESS WAYNE ***