Mr. Fortescue was at no loss to divine that the farmer was in earnest. He whirled round the stout ash stick in a most menacing manner. The London gentleman sprang towards the window, which he endeavoured to open, but the farmer was too sharp for him. He caught Fortescue by the collar of his coat, and with herculean strength dragged him from the window, then he belaboured him most unmercifully with his stick, with which he rained a series of terrible blows on his back and shoulders.
Fortescue flew to the fireplace and snatched up the poker. On the instant he received a terrific blow on the wrist, the poker dropped from his hand, which by this time had been rendered powerless, and then another series of blows followed in quick succession.
If any man ever had a sound thrashing, Mr. Fortescue was the man.
“Get out of my house and never darken my doors again,” cried Ashbrook, opening the parlour door, and thrusting his visitor forcibly out. The latter did not want a second bidding. He made his exit without further ado. As he was passing the back kitchen which abutted out from the farmhouse, the girl Kitty, who had been watching for his appearance, flung a paii of dirty water over him.
“Take that, you dirty conceited puppy,” said she.
Dripping with wet and aching in every limb, Mr. Fortescue flew over the fields as if pursued by some wild animal, and was soon lost to sight.
“Joy go with him!” cried Kitty, “the dirty lying blackguard. I dont think it likely we shall be troubled with him agen, master.”
“I hope not,” said Ashbrook. “I fancy he’s had a pretty good dose.”
“And one as ell last him a long time,” observed the servant, retreating into the washhouse.
Patty Ashbrook remained sad and silent upon a seat in her own chamber, her face distorted with terror as she listened to the sound of heavy blows and the cries of the man who but a few moments before had been whispering loving words into her ear. She despised him now, but not more than she despised herself. For now she remembered every little act, every word of kindness her husband had ever bestowed upon her. Now she felt that she was an ungrateful wretch, that she deserved to be driven from her home, even as Mr. Fortescue had been.