And to disagreeable interviews he
felt he had already served his apprenticeship that evening; nor
could he suppose that Miss Vandeleur had left anything unsaid.
Indeed, the young man was sore both in body and mind - the one was
all bruised, the other was full of smarting arrows; and he owned to
himself that Mr. Vandeleur was master of a very deadly tongue.
The thought of his bruises reminded him that he had not only come
without a hat, but that his clothes had considerably suffered in
his descent through the chestnut. At the first magazine he
purchased a cheap wideawake, and had the disorder of his toilet
summarily repaired. The keepsake, still rolled in the
handkerchief, he thrust in the meanwhile into his trousers pocket.
Not many steps beyond the shop he was conscious of a sudden shock,
a hand upon his throat, an infuriated face close to his own, and an
open mouth bawling curses in his ear. The Dictator, having found
no trace of his quarry, was returning by the other way. Francis
was a stalwart young fellow; but he was no match for his adversary
whether in strength or skill; and after a few ineffectual struggles
he resigned himself entirely to his captor.
"What do you want with me?" said he.
"We will talk of that at home," returned the Dictator grimly.
And he continued to march the young man up hill in the direction of
the house with the green blinds.
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