The Squire glared for a moment in speechless fury, and then, gathering breath and saliva, spat with great force in Dick's face. The two servants were now dismounted. Mr. Bullcott, enraged to the point of preferring immediate revenge rather than the slow operation of the law, ordered them to use their whips on Dick. They fell upon him together, at the moment when he was blinded by the handkerchief with which he had instantly begun to cleanse his visage of Bullcott's disgusting marks. Maddened by the blows that rained upon his face, neck, arms, and wrists, Dick struck out wildly at his brawny assailants. At a certain violent rush on his part, they fell back. The Squire seized that moment as an opportune one for riding his horse at Dick, and the latter, leaping aside to avoid the heavy hoofs, tripped on a stone and fell flat in the road, knocking the breath out of his body. Bullcott now, leaning from his horse, wielded his own whip on Dick's head and back, accompanying the castigation with vengeful oaths and vile epithets. Then, ordering his men to bestow each a final kick on the prostrate body, the worthy gentleman rode off about his business, which, it eventually appeared, was to cause the ejection of the strolling players from the barn before which their merry-andrew had already begun to collect a crowd around his wagon. Kicked into insensibility, Dick was at last abandoned by the two servants, and he lay in the road until, fifteen minutes later, there came up from the direction of Wells a post-chaise, from which a hearty-looking young gentleman, having ordered the postilion to stop, got out for the sole purpose of examining the prostrate body in the way. He stooped beside Dick, called his valet to bring some brandy, and gently raised Dick's head. "Who is it?" murmured Dick, summoned out of a wild and painful dream, and resting his blue eyes on the rubicund, cheerful, somewhat impudent face of the young gentleman. "Who is it?" repeated the latter, blithely. "That's a good one! Here's a gentleman who has fallen among thieves and been left half dead, and the first thing he wants of the Good Samaritan is to know who the Good Samaritan is! Swallow this brandy, sir, and the Good Samaritan will introduce himself." "You are certainly the Good Samaritan," moaned Dick, after a reviving gulp from the flask held by the valet; "but I haven't fallen among thieves. I fell in only with the most damned boorish scoundrel that ever disgraced the name of gentleman, and I swear I won't rest till I've paid him back what he and his rascal menials did me here, blow for blow, and kick for kick." "Quite right!" said the other, gaily. "But, in the meantime, what is to be done for you? Can I take you to your house? Do you live hereabouts?" "No, my home is--quite--far--away," replied Dick, relapsing into a dreamy condition. The other gently shook him back to full consciousness. "Then where may I take you? Whither were you bound? Towards Bath?"