"Ride hard to Cranshaw Rigg. There's somebody waits thee there, Wayne the Shameless." It was Nicholas Ratcliffe's voice, hard and thin and high-pitched.
Shameless Wayne snatched a pistol from the bed-head, and flung the casement wide, and saw the Lean Man riding hard up Barguest lane. He took a quick aim and pulled the trigger; but old Nicholas rode on, and the moonlight showed him stark on the hilltop as he turned once for a backward look at Marsh.
"So the hunt is up already," said Shameless Wayne, banging to the casement and getting to bed again. "What has the lean rogue left on the door down yonder?—well, we shall see to-morrow," he muttered presently, turning over on his side. "There's naught gained by losing sleep—if only sleep would come."
But sleep did not come yet awhile, and his thoughts wandered to Janet Ratcliffe—Janet, whom he had met to-day upon the moor—Janet, the daughter of that same Lean Man on whom he had just now turned a pistol-muzzle.
Nanny Witherlee, too, had heard the three taps on the door, and the Lean Man's high-pitched voice. "I know weel enough what he's put on th' door," she said, not stirring from her stool at the bier-foot. "Th' owd feud began i' th' same way, an' I mind to this day how th' Maister, who cars so quiet yonder, looked when he came down i' th' morning an' fund th' token that war left nailed to th' oak." Her eyes lit up on the sudden, and a sombre mirth lengthened the thin line of her mouth. "But one thing Nicholas Ratcliffe didn't know, I warrant—that Barguest war ligged on th' door-stun! He crossed th' Brown Dog as he set nail to door, an' a babby could tell what that spells. Sleep ye quiet, Shameless Wayne, for ye'll turn th' spindle that's to weave th' Lean Man's winding-sheet."
CHAPTER VII
THE LEAN MAN'S TOKEN
At dawn of the next day Shameless Wayne awoke from a troubled sleep, with Nicholas Ratcliffe's visit fresh in his mind and a drear foreboding at his heart. He could rest no longer, but hurried into his clothes and went down to the shadowy hall, where the candles still burned and the Sexton's wife still watched the dead.
"Didst hear Nicholas Ratcliffe's voice yesternight?" he said, coming close to Nanny's elbow.
"For sure I did."