"You are right, and I shall send him off as you suggested."
"And if he won't go?"
"He will go--or else he shall go to jail."
For once Mrs. Vernon spoke firmly and in a manner that admitted of no dispute. It took a long time to arouse her, but once aroused her nature was a thoroughly stubborn one.
In the meantime Frederic Vernon had found his way to one of the ale-houses of the village. As Farmer Parsons had said, he had suffered a severe chastisement and he could scarcely walk. His chin and one eye were much swollen, and his back felt as if it had been pounded into a jelly.
"I'll get even with that man," he muttered. "I'd give a hundred dollars to see him hanged!"
Entering the ale-house he called for a glass of liquor, and then explained that he had suffered a severe fall from the cliff. As he had spent considerable money in the resort the landlord was all attention and led him to a side room, where he was given the chance to brush and wash up. At the same time the landlord's wife sewed up several rents in his coat and gave him a bit of court-plaster for a cut on his hand.
It must be confessed that Frederic Vernon was in a most unsettled state of mind. He hardly knew whether he dared to go to his aunt or not. From the landlord of the ale-house he learned that both Mrs. Vernon and Robert had escaped without serious physical injury, although the report was around that the lady was suffering from severe shock.
"I must put on a bold front," he told himself at last. "After all, my word is as good as that yokel's."
To put on a bold front, as he expressed it, Frederic Vernon drank rather more than was good for him, and then with a swagger he made his way to Mrs. Cabe's house that evening after supper.