Joe Crouch rose from his knees with a joyful exclamation, wiping his hands on his apron. "I should have liked to have had a cut in myself," he afterwards remarked, "but Master Jack he managed it all splendid!"
Whatever Joseph's wishes may have been, he had no opportunity of taking part in the proceedings; for, before the contest could be renewed, Helen rushed across the lawn and caught Jack by the arm.
"Oh, don't fight!" she cried breathlessly. "What is the matter?"
"Ask him!" answered Jack shortly, nodding with his fists still clenched, in the direction of Fosberton, who was in the act of emerging from the depths of the laurel bush. "Ask him, he knows."
"He called me a liar!" answered Fosberton; "and then rushed up and hit me when I was unprepared, the cad!"
This assertion very nearly brought on a renewal of the contest, but the speaker knew that Helen's presence would prevent any more blows being struck. Jack watched his adversary with a look of contempt, as the latter wiped the blood from his cut lip.
"Yes, I said you were a liar and a coward."
"Oh, hush!" said the girl, laying her hand on her cousin's mouth. "Don't quarrel any longer; it's dreadful here, at Brenlands! What would Aunt Mabel say if she knew you'd been fighting? Come away, Jack, and don't say any more."
The boy would have liked to stay behind for another private interview with Raymond, but for Helen's sake he turned on his heel and followed her into the house.
"All right, my boy," muttered Raymond, looking after the retreating figures with a savage scowl on his face, "I'll be even with you some day, if ever I get the chance."