Mistress Wayne stood in the middle of the room, fearful a little and asking a mute question of her step-son.
"This shall be thy room. Nay, there's naught to fear!" he said. "Peep into the drawers yonder by and by, and thou'lt find pretty clothes to wear; but thou'rt tired now, and must lie down on the bed. So! Now I'll cover thee snugly up, and bring thee meat. I doubt thou need'st it, bairn."
She was passive in his hands, and fell to crooning happily while he drew a great rug of badgerskin across her. "'Tis pleasant to have friends, and to be warm," she murmured.
"Unless I hasten, thou'lt be asleep before I bring thee supper!" he cried. "Rest quiet, and be sure I'll keep the boggarts from the door."
He went quietly down again, feeling his own troubles lighter for this fresh claim upon his sympathies; nor did he doubt the dead man's view of it, since there was scarce man or woman on the moor who did not hold that madness cancelled all back-reckonings.
"I will see what is to be found in the kitchen; haply the half of a moor-cock would tempt her appetite," he thought, as he turned down the passage.
He was met by his four brothers, just returned from hawking. Their faces were flushed and their sturdy bodies panting with the hard run home.
"We've had rare sport, Ned! Rare sport!" cried the eldest, a lad of sixteen. And then, remembering who lay not far away, cold forever to sport of hawk or hound, he dropped his head shamefacedly.
"It has taken you far, I warrant; for the sun has been down this half-hour past."
"Ay, for at the end of all we fell to flying at magpies down the hedgerows toward Heathley, and yond unbacked eyes of mine at which thou jestest trussed seven. Peep in the kitchen, Ned, and see what game we took. We carried the goshawk, too, and she struck a hare up by Wildwater——"