"If ever you come prowling here again, I'll have my men and my dogs
out at you!" bawled William, whose blood was well up. "I live
handily, just behind yon clump of trees. Rosamund has but to lift
up her voice in a good screech, and I'll loose every dog in the
place upon you! You'll not forget the feel of their fangs so soon
as you'll forget the feel of my cudgel!"
That threat was quite enough for the bullies, they almost began to
run; but so soon as they had put the fence between themselves and
their antagonists, they paused and looked back, shaking their fists
in vindictive fury.
They seemed to divine that Tom was in some sort the originator of
this plan, and towards him was their chief malevolence directed.
"We will have our revenge for this, Tom Tufton!" they cried. "It's
your turn today, but it will be ours another. You shall rue the day
you made enemies of us!"
"Do your worst!" cried Tom scornfully. "Do you think I fear any
such ruffians as you?"
"Strike me purple!" raged Bully Bullen, using an oath which had
come into vogue since the terrible days of the Plague, "if I do not
make you bitterly repent this day's work, you insolent young
coxcomb!"
"Get off with you, or I call my dogs!" cried William, who saw that
Rosamund's cheeks were growing pale; and at this hint the bullies
made the best of their way out of sight, never to be seen again in
the neighbourhood where so many perils awaited them.
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