"Rest it for a few days, or months."
"Your insolence may cost you dear."
"I shall be at your service whenever you choose to fight."
He gave De Rothan a steady stare, and then climbed into the saddle.
"The fat's in the fire," he thought, as he rode off down the lane, "but—God! it was good crushing that fellow's ribs."
De Rothan's face was a study in malignant cynicism as he brushed his clothes and picked up his hat.
"Very well, very well, Mr. Benham; to-morrow, or the next day, I shall kill you. There shall be no mistake about that."
[XXI]
Grimly elated, Jasper rode back to Rush Heath. The day had given him far more than he had dared to desire. He had thrashed his man and made a second conquest of Nance Durrell's confidence. His jealousy had dispersed like a thunder-cloud, leaving a clear and adventurous sky.
At Rush Heath he found Jeremy Winter and Cousin Rose in the thick of a quarrel. Rose had driven over from Beech Hill, ostensibly to sit at Squire Kit's bedside, and treat him to some of her frank and pious opinions.