no reply, and he cried
again, shouting as loud as he could, but there was still no response.
And, sick at heart with pain and vexation, Ralph once more stumbled
awkwardly along by the river, amongst stone, bramble, and fern, trying
to make out where the deep chasm was down into which he had looked, but
it was completely hidden by the trees; and, reaching the shallows, he
slowly crossed to go homeward on the more open side, which was a far
less difficult task, though it necessitated crossing the river again.

But as the lad disappeared among the trees, Mark Eden rose from where he
had been hidden behind a pile of fallen blocks, to make his way into the
chasm, and then upward to the castle on the Black Tor, frowning very
fiercely, and feeling a good deal dissatisfied with himself, though
brightening up a little as he began thinking of what was to happen the
next time he and Ralph Darley met.

"One couldn't do anything," he said roughly, "till that old business had
been put straight."

CHAPTER TWELVE.

BARING THE WHITE BLADE.

Ralph Darley's disposition led him to determine to say nothing about
what had passed, but his lame legs forced him to confess how it was his
ankles were so bad, and Sir Morton was furious. He was ready to declare
war on a small scale against his neighbour, and carry fire and sword
into his camp. But Ralph's legs were better the next day; and when the
whole history of the two encounters had been gone over, he thought
better of the affair, to the extent of determining to wait till his son
was quite well again; and when he was quite well, there were other
things to dwell upon.

For one, Nick Garth, who had been across to one of the villages beyond
the moor, came back with his head bleeding, and stripped to breeches and
shirt.

His account of his trouble was that he was coming home in the dark,
keeping one eye upon a flickering light some distance away up the
mountain-side. Sometimes it was visible, at others all was black; and
he was wondering whether it had anything to do with the witches' fire of
which he had heard tell, when all at once he found himself surrounded by
seven or eight wild-looking figures, either in long gowns or cloaks, who
seized him; and upon his resisting wildly, they knocked him down, took
the best of his clothes away, emptied his pockets, and departed,
carrying off a large basket he was taking home, a basket containing two
chickens, two ducklings, and a big pat of